Perfect for You

conspiratorial wink, knowing any man would like hearing that the object of his desire was telling her friends about him. "As her friend, I'd usually feel inclined to warn you not to toy with her. You know, the usual godfather, Ôwhat are your intentions' kind of talk. But I can see that you're different."
    "Thank you. You're obviously a young woman of great intellect," Connor joked.
    Please don't make me like you. "I need to get going, but it was good meeting you. We'll hopefully see each other again."
    Connor grasped her hand firmly. "Likewise."
    As she turned to leave, she looked back over her shoulder, as if she suddenly remembered something. "By the way, Freya loves flowers. Especially roses. Red ones with baby's breath. She's very fond of white wines. She likes anything Spanish, especially movies. And chocolate ," she added in a spurt of pure inspiration. "She absolutely loves chocolate. But what girl doesn't, right?"
    Connor nodded with a smile. "Thanks for the tips."
    "Anytime." Anna hesitated. "But don't tell her I mentioned any of that to you. In fact, you'd better not tell her that we met. I wouldn't want her to think I gave you the third degree. Or that I meddled in her love life."
    "Of course. I won't say a word."
    "Great. Well, see you around!" She fluttered her fingers at headed to the Victorian.
    Foundation laid.
    Step two came to her as she strode up the Victorian's porch steps. She pulled out her phone and texted Greg:
     
         Buy her flowers ASAP. Exotic ones.
     
    His reply was instant:
     
    Remind me never to play chess with you.
     
    Grinning, she put her phone away. That was done—now to take care of her own love life. She pressed the buzzer to Max's flat.
    He opened the door. His hair was pulled back in a stubby ponytail, and his shirt was open a button more than usual, showing off the tan smooth skin of his chest. He was barefoot, and for some reason that seemed so risquŽ.
    His brow furrowed when he saw her.
    Before he could say anything, she grabbed him by the shirt and pulled his mouth down to hers.
    His lips were warm and smooth—and unresponsive.
    Of course he was—she'd surprised him. But she refused to back off, teasing him with her lips.
    She felt when he gave in to her, a delicious yielding that felt like winning the greatest prize in the world. She savored it, melting into him.
    And then she pulled back.
    She smiled at him and then turned on her heels and walked off. She didn't look back until she reached her car.
    He still stood in the doorway, watching after her. She couldn't see his expression, but she imagined he still had that sexy half-lidded look she'd left him with.
    Turning the car on, she drove away. When she was no longer in sight, she pumped her fist in the air. " Yes ."

 
Chapter Fifteen
     
     
    Freya knew she should have been working. Her meeting with Charles was on Monday, and she needed one more design to complete her first offering.
    But it was Saturday, and more than that it was a rare warm March day. What better to do than to do some gardening?
    She snorted and yanked another weed from the ground. Okay, anything was better than weeding roses, but Connor had had to cancel their afternoon date, Eve was at yoga, and who knew where Anna was hiding. Weeding was better than hanging out alone inside, especially when it was sunny and warm out.
    Connor had a family emergency—something about a sister's kid's arm being broken. Freya didn't mind, actually. It spoke well of him that he was so close to his family. And, frankly, he'd wanted to go to a Spanish movie. She didn't have anything against Spain, but why see something with subtitles when there was a new Bruce Willis movie out? She loved the big explosions.
    Questionable taste in movies aside, she liked Connor. He was funny and considerate. Not pushy. He kissed well, even if he didn't make her blood sizzle with a mere touch like Greg did.
    She froze as she reached for a dandelion. Where had that thought come from?
    She shouldn't be thinking about Greg. She hadn't heard from him all week, not that she expected to. It didn't matter, and she had Connor now. Tall, blond Connor, with cloudless blue eyes.
    No . She whacked her gloved hand against her forehead. Connor had brown eyes. Warm, brown eyes like melting chocolate.
    She made a face and tried to think of something brown that was more appealing than chocolate.
    "You have dirt smeared across your cheek."
    She knew that voice, and when she looked up to see