Title: Truly, Madly, Deeply, You
Author: Cecilia Robert
Published: March 21st 2012-Inkspell Publishing
Synopsis:
Four days before Valentine’s Day, Liese Hansfeld is determined to shut the door to her house, as well as her heart, for her annual four days of mourning her one true love. Little does she know her best friend Freytag Meier is just as determined to keep her from her ritual. He’s ready to pick the lock to her apartment door and camp in her living room if that’s what it takes.
What Freytag isn’t prepared for is the surge of deep-rooted emotions he feels for Liese, but two things stand in his way: the grief and guilt she still clutches close to her heart, and a man who threatens to snatch Liese from under Frey’s watchful eye. Frey is determined to distract her into forgetting her pain. But is that enough to ease her grief, or help her see he can be more than her best friend?
Author: Cecilia Robert
Published: March 21st 2012-Inkspell Publishing
Synopsis:
Four days before Valentine’s Day, Liese Hansfeld is determined to shut the door to her house, as well as her heart, for her annual four days of mourning her one true love. Little does she know her best friend Freytag Meier is just as determined to keep her from her ritual. He’s ready to pick the lock to her apartment door and camp in her living room if that’s what it takes.
What Freytag isn’t prepared for is the surge of deep-rooted emotions he feels for Liese, but two things stand in his way: the grief and guilt she still clutches close to her heart, and a man who threatens to snatch Liese from under Frey’s watchful eye. Frey is determined to distract her into forgetting her pain. But is that enough to ease her grief, or help her see he can be more than her best friend?
Liese walked out of her bedroom and paused just outside the sitting room door, wondering if Frey was on the other side waiting for her. She tugged on her gown and pulled at the bodice. How were her breasts going to remain hidden in the gown? For the tenth time, she cursed Frey for ordering the silk concoction.
He’d left the house. Her mind had been plunged in doubt, wondering if he would come back. Overwhelmed by both her revelation and exhausted from the effects of her medication, she’d slumped back on the bed hoping to keep an ear open for his return. Three hours later, she had woken up to find the box on top of the duvet at her feet. He had scribbled on the note that none of her ball gowns fit her anymore because of her ‘skeletal’ figure. Apparently, Frey had gone ahead and bought her a gown for the ball. It didn’t surprise her that Frey had done so. No. Growing up, they’d always gone shopping together for these affairs, or leased gowns and tuxedos for the ball season. What surprised her, and made her squirm, was the indecently low-cut bodice of the gown he had chosen for her. The silk, blood-red in colour, and the low neckline, combined to make indecent thoughts flash through her mind. What made it worse were the layers of petticoat beneath the gown. She had already tripped on them numerous times and she wondered how she was going to last the night. What kind of game was he playing at?
There was shuffling of feet from the other side of the door, and then it flew open to reveal Frey. He stood before her in black, long-tailed tuxedo, complemented by a white, single-breasted waistcoat, white shirt, and a sky-blue tie.
Had he always looked the way he now did?
“You clean up well, I must say.” Frey interrupted her curious studying.
She jerked her head up and locked gazes with him, just in time to see his eyes sweep over her head down to her toes. They lingered on her décolletage, and she saw the bobbing movement of his throat.
She cleared her throat noisily, and waited until he focused on her face. She swept a hand across her cleavage. “This? Really, Frey.”
He blinked innocently at her. She swept past him, almost tripping on the petticoats tangling at her legs.
“You don’t like the dress, Li?”
She whirled around and lifted the skirts, displaying an impressive array of crinolines. “How am I supposed to last the night? Unless I draw everyone else to my upper body, I think I’ll make a mess of it all. Why so Goth-Renaissance, anyway?”
Frey strolled to stand in front of her. “Turn around.”
“What?”