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crossed. “Okay, yes, I reread some of them while I was recovering.”

“Which ones?”

“Starting with when Henri first came to Marguerite’s dressing room backstage.”

“The ones where she let herself believe she was in love with a man, only to learn later that he’d seduced her into marrying him with lies. Just as Peter seduced you into sleeping with him with lies.”

She kept her gaze fixed on the opposite wall but he saw her throat move as she swallowed hard.

“So now you’ve lumped all three of us, Henri, Peter, and me, together in your mind. We’re all liars who seduce women out of selfishness or greed. And any woman fool enough to fall for us is going to suffer dire consequences.”

She finally looked at him, but said nothing.

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “I’m not Henri, and I’m not Peter. I kept my name and my relationship to John LeRoche hidden from you, but that wasn’t to hurt you. I never meant to hurt you.” He searched her face, then sat back suddenly. “Hell, what’s the use? Even without all this, I never had a chance with you. You deserve better.”

“Why do you do that?” She frowned, finally looking at him, looking into his eyes. “You’re always cutting yourself down, saying you’re selfish and cynical, but you’re actually sweet and generous, hardworking and responsible.”

He raised a brow. “Sweet?”

“Kind,” she corrected.

His chest tightened. “You make me want to be the man you think I am, because you made me believe that, for some people, commitment can work. If I can take that leap of faith, why can’t you forgive me and accept me in spite of my parentage?”

“Because I don’t know if what I see is real or an illusion.”

“Or are you just too afraid to believe, to take a chance?”

“I...” He saw the battle of emotions that waged in her eyes before she looked away. “I don’t know.”

“Allison, let go of the past. Have the courage to give us a chance.”

She pressed her fingers to her lips when they started to tremble. An eternity passed as he waited for her verdict. “All right,” she whispered at last. “I’ll try.” He sagged in relief as she turned and gave him a shaky smile. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”

“You won’t regret it.” He gathered her against him and held her close as his heart pounded. “I swear, we can make this work.”

“You have to help me, though.” She pulled back enough to gaze up at him. “Because it’s not just the name. I’ve thought about it a lot since the lawsuit ended, and I think I could get past your relation to John LeRoche. You’re right, it’s not something you can control and you aren’t the one who tried to hurt us. Quite the opposite. I think what really scares me is feeling like I don’t know you. For those three weeks we were together, you rarely talked about yourself, or let me past the surface.”

He shook his head against a sense of deja vu; she sounded just like Marguerite in the diaries. “I couldn’t share very much without risking your finding out I was a LeRoche.”

“I know. But now that the big secret’s out, there’s no reason for you to hold back.” She cupped his jaw as hope kindled to life in her eyes. “If I felt like I knew you, it would be easier for me to trust you.”

He leaned back. “There’s not that much to tell beyond what you already know.”

“I know a few sketchy facts. I have no clear picture, though, of what your life has been like, how you became the man you are.”

A familiar dread crept into his stomach, the same queasiness he felt when anyone wanted to get close to him. “There’s no reason for us to have long, drawn-out conversations about my childhood.”

“Was it that bad? You weren’t abused, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t abused. It’s just that that was then, this is now. I don’t believe in revisiting the past.”

“But”—confusion lined her face-—“the past is part of who we are. If I can’t get to know all of you, I can’t really know any of you.”

“That’s not true.” The last thing she needed to hear was what a rebellious teenager he’d been, or how many times his father’s money and influence had kept him out of juvi-hall. Especially since that would bring up the name John LeRoche more times than he thought wise around her. “Considering the fact that you hate my family, I think talking about them would be a bad idea.”

“It might be awkward at first, but what else can we do? If we’re going to have any chance of working this out and making it last, I’ll have to accept them as part of your life.”

“That part of my life wouldn’t have anything to do with us.”

“Of course it would.” Disbelief shone in her eyes. “Unless we’re back to talking about a short-term affair.”

“I want more than that, and you know it.”

“ ‘More’ as in the possibility of marriage down the road?”

His lungs locked up and he stared at her several seconds before he remembered how to breathe. “You said you didn’t want marriage and kids.”

“I guess I lied, too, then. To both of us.” She managed a weak smile. Her gaze dropped away though when he just kept staring at her, too panicked to respond. “Since that day, when you first asked me to have the courage to risk caring, I’ve thought about it, and I’ve decided that, yes, I want what Chance and Rory have. I want commitment and a family and everything.”

Marriage. Commitment. Total sharing. He blew out a breath as his mind raced. He’d been thinking in terms of reconciliation and building slowly from there, not jumping past the word “relationship” all the way to marriage. “Okay, then. I’ll admit, the idea has crossed my mind a lot since meeting you.” Crossed his mind along with the word “impossible.” But here she was saying

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