Perfect for You

three weeks to get together a few mockups for Charles's approval."
    "Then it's good that you're taking the dance class too. At least until the right guy comes along to tempt you out of celibacy."
    For some reason, the right guy conjured an image of Cavanaugh. She wrinkled her nose as she physically shook the picture out of her brain. "Right."
    "I should get going. I have an early meeting tomorrow, and if I stay longer I'll eat all the cookies I baked for you and not be able to sleep for the sugar rush." She stood up and took another cookie with a sly grin.
    Freya walked Eve downstairs and then went back to her room to strip out of her dance clothes. She was pulling on pajamas when her door buzzed again.
    Wondering what Eve forgot, she pulled up the pink paisley bottoms and hurried down the stairs again. "What is it this time?" she asked as she threw the door open. "Need to make disparaging comments about my feet?"
    "I've never had the chance to study your feet, and I'd hate to make any kind of judgments without fully inspecting them first." Cavanaugh bent over to stare at her feet.
    She looked down automatically. She'd painted her toes Purple Rain and wore her customary silver anklet.
    "So what do you say?" Cavanaugh asked, looking up as she did.
    "What do I say about what?"
    "Inspecting your feet. I'll be gentle, and if you're good I'll throw in a foot massage."
    Glancing at his hands, she knew instinctively a foot massage given by him would be better than the best orgasm she had ever had. Which wasn't saying much actually. "I'm always good, but I think I'll pass this time."
    "That's a shame. Perhaps another time." He glanced down at her feet again. His gaze felt physical, laser hot across her skin.
    "To what do I owe the, um, pleasure of this visit?" she asked with a sarcastic tilt of her head.
    "May I come in?"
    Before she could say a word either way, he stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind him.
    Curiosity warred with irritation. If she wanted him to leave, he would. But now she wanted to know what his deal was. She harrumphed and led the way upstairs to the living room.
    "Have a seat," she said, gesturing to her couch. She curled into the overstuffed chair facing it.
    He shrugged out of his suit coat and draped it across the arm of the couch before sitting. Tonight his shirt was already unbuttoned, enough so that she could see a faint smattering of dark hair peeking through.
    She was entranced by his chest hair. She shook her head clear. She was losing it.
    As if he knew where her thoughts were focused, he undid another button on his shirt.
    On purpose? She couldn't tell. Just in case, she grabbed one of Eve's cookies and stuffed it in her mouth to distract herself.
    He grinned as if he knew her strategy. "I came over to see if you were busy on Saturday."
    She choked. Patting her chest, she managed to swallow the rest of the cookie so she could croak, "For a date?"
    "Of course not."
    She frowned. Because he had a girlfriend, of course. But why was he asking her out? "Then what for?"
    "For a friendly get together."
    "A friendly get together?" she repeated incredulously.
    "Yes. No kissing, but if you'd like to anticipate please feel free."
    Her lips twitched against her will. "And if I say no?"
    "It'll drive you mad not knowing what I had planned." He sat back and folded his arms behind his head.
    Damn it, he was right. She hated that smug, know-it-all expression on his face. She'd wonder until she was batty with scenarios.
    But he had a girlfriend, and he was a lawyer. "No."
    He arched his brow. "I'm offering you adventure and you're turning it down?"
    Her pulse spiked imagining the kind of adventure he'd take her on. She was positive her increased heart rate was due to the possibility of adventure, not simply because of him. "I'm turning it down."
    "Another time then." Standing up, he picked up his coat.
    Just like that? She gaped at him indignantly. He wasn't going to try harder?
    Apparently not, because he headed downstairs. She followed mutely behind him, totally confused.
    "So how is the ad coming along?" he asked as they reached the front door.
    She blinked in surprise. "Um, okay."
    "Anyone promising?"
    Sure, if you were into freaks. She was still in debate over the transsexual. "I'm hoping something will work out."
    He didn't bother to respond beyond a noncommittal grunt.
    Freya reached for the doorknob when they got to the landing but was unable to open the door because Cavanaugh stood in the