Free Dreams of Seduction by N. J. Walters

you’d like them to be.”
    A lump formed in Maggie’s throat. She envied her friend. “I’m happy for you.”
    “Me too.” Walking to the counter, Rhiannon grabbed a paper cup and filled it with coffee before snapping a lid on top. “Here take this. You look as if you could use it.”
    Maggie took the coffee, her fingers clinging tightly to the warm cup. “Thanks.”
    “Remember, if you need anything just call.”
    “I will.” She walked to the door in a daze. Rhiannon’s life had changed drastically in the past few days. Maggie didn’t expect to find a lasting relationship, but maybe that was okay. Her last relationship hadn’t worked out so well.
    This time she’d just enjoy herself. She was a grown woman. If she wanted to have a purely sexual affair with a single, handsome man, that was her business.
    Butterflies beat at her stomach. That was fine in theory, but she still had to figure out what to make for dinner. And she had no idea what she was going to wear.

    Hours later, Maggie was still wondering what the heck she’d gotten herself into. A garden salad sat in the refrigerator waiting to be served. Fresh multigrain rolls were wrapped in foil waiting to be heated and a pot of homemade vegetable beef stew sat on the stovetop. Dinner was ready, but she wasn’t.
    Staring at her closet for the tenth time, she debated what to wear. A dress was too dressy. She didn’t want to come across as too needy. Jeans too casual. Slacks made her feel like she was going to work. She pulled out a calf-length linen skirt in a deep chocolate brown. Sighing, she shoved it back in the closet.
    She glanced at the clock. She had about twenty minutes until Jed arrived. Thankfully, she’d already had a bath, shaved her legs and rubbed cream all over her body. Not that she planned on anything happening between them. It was just dinner after all. But she wanted to be prepared. Just in case.
    That was the reason she’d vacuumed the bedroom and changed the sheets on the bed. Fresh cut lavender sat in a crystal vase on the bedside table, perfuming the air, and several beeswax pillar candles had been strategically placed around the room.
    Slumping on the bed, she buried her face in her hands. Who was she trying to kid? She’d cleaned and primped and buffed just in case things got physical. Her core began to ache, a sharp reminder of what her body really wanted.
    “Don’t think about it.” Easier said than done. Her cream-colored panties were already damp and the matching bra felt confining. At this rate, she’d be answering the door in her underwear.
    “This is stupid,” she muttered. Angry with herself for caring so much, she grabbed a pair of jeans.
    They were new and stylish. She tugged them on and then reached for a silk blouse. The green matched her eyes and soft material felt good against her skin. She buttoned it and stared at herself in the antique mirror that stood in the corner of the room.
    “Not bad. Not bad at all.” She turned one way and then another. The material draped nicely over her breasts and the neckline dipped into a deep vee, showing a hint of cleavage.
    She added a pair of emerald studs to her ears, liking the way they picked up the light. They were a gift from her grandmother and she only wore them on special occasions.
    Not bothering with socks or stockings, she slid her feet into a pair of leather flats. Casual, yet dressy at the same time.
    Her hair was the largest problem. She’d debated leaving it down, but in the end had put it in the usual braid. A touch of mascara, eyeliner and lipstick finished off her look. She looked natural but polished, and not like a woman who’d spent the better part of an afternoon getting ready for a simple dinner date.
    The doorbell rang. Her heart jumped and her palms began to sweat. “You can do this. It’s just dinner.”
    Rubbing her hands over her jean-clad thighs, she gave herself one final look in the mirror before turning away. She shoved the closet