The Earl Who Loved Me by Bethany Sefchick

Now, the ground was dusted in a fine white
power that sparkled like so many diamonds or crystals strewn about.
    "You are a good friend,
David," Amelia said finally, the words coming easier now as the brandy
loosed her tongue a bit.   "Any man
would be lucky to count himself among yours."
    He turned to her, raising an
eyebrow before grinning at her, relishing the idea of teasing her a bit
more.   "And women?"
    "Women and men are not often
friends."   She replied so softly
that he barely heard her.
    "But we are."   There was a undercurrent to his words, one
she could not decipher.   "Or am I
wrong?"
    Slowly, she took another sip of
brandy, feeling the slide of the liquid down her throat and the answering slide
of languid heat along her limbs.   "You are not.   In fact, I
would count you as my closest friend, odd as that sounds."   She had no idea why she was admitting
this.   Though she was always honest with
David, she did not speak of such things.   Ever.   It was not ladylike or
proper.   So perhaps it was the late hour
or the brandy or the new gown that gave her the confidence, but whatever the
reason, she felt her tongue loosening all the more.
    "That is excellent news
then," he said, placing his glass on the desk, the amber liquid glinting
in the firelight.   "For I count you
as my closest friend as well."   He
turned to her and there was a heat in his eyes that she had not seen there
before.   One of passion and desire.   Or perhaps she was only imagining it.
    Suddenly, the dress felt too
confining.   Diana was not as well
endowed as Amelia and the gown had been a tight fit anyway, but now she felt as
if it was not just a bit too small but a great deal too small.   Her skin burned where his gaze raked her and
she wanted to flee.   Yet a part of her,
the part that over the last few hours had grown remarkably stronger, forced her
to say.   She did, however, take one last
sip of her brandy before placing her glass beside his on the desk.   Her hand shook slightly as she did so, and
she was surprised when David reached out to steady her hand with his.
    Courage, Diana had said.   Amelia must show courage if she was to
seduce David.   But this game was new to
her and she did not know the rules.   Proper ladies did not proposition men, not unless they wanted to be
thought lightskirts or doxies.
    "We could be more than
friends, Amelia."    David turned to
her and slowly pulled her towards him, his touch on her arm burning her.   What would she do if he touched her without
the protection of a glove or two between them?
    "I do not take your
meaning."   Except that she did and
it terrified her.   This was what she
wanted, what she had dreamed of.   David
desiring her as she desired him.   And it
frightened her out of her very wits.
    He moved ever so closer to her
until she was fully tucked within the circle of his arms.   "I think you do, Amelia."   He stroked a hand down her arm and she
shivered, whether in delight or fear she did not know.   "Did you honestly believe that story I
fed you tonight in the conservatory about the enjoyment of the house party
guests?"
    "Yes?"   But she said it as a question and not a
statement, and he knew that she had seen through his ruse.   It had been foolish to think she would be
that stupid.   She was very clever, his
Amelia.
    "No."   Another stroke of his hand, this time his
thumb on the inside of her elbow where there was no glove to protect her
suddenly overheated skin.   "Neither
one of us believed it, yet I could think of no other way to prevent you from
scurrying off again and hiding in your room.   I do not want you to hide from me, Amelia.   From other men perhaps, but not me."
    Each touch from him sent flashes of
desire skittering up her spine and again, she was certain that she might faint
if they ever touched skin to skin.   "But we are friends and nothing more."   This could not be happening.   Men like David did not notice women like
Amelia.