“Dante saw what was happening. He took it upon himself to save me. He started going out with a different actress or model or noblewoman every night of the week. He called the paparazzi himself, telling them where he would be and who he would be with. I transferred to MIT in the States, while my brother put on a circus act to draw the spotlight away from me. For the past four years, he has protected me by feeding the tabloids with his supposed conquests. None of the relationships were real. They were only for the publicity. But he earned himself an undeserved reputation as a heartbreaker and a playboy, just for my benefit.”

Lemon and I’d had a conversation one night where we talked about our pasts. She explained to me that she’d never had a boyfriend who hadn’t cheated on her. I could see now why she’d held back where Dante was concerned. And why it must have destroyed her to see me and Rafe together, if she’d thought he was his brother. It would have been confirmation of her worst fears. He must have told her the truth and she forgave him.

Which I understood, because the truth was having the same kind of effect on me.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “There are no words to say how much I owe my brother. He allowed me to heal. He gave me the privacy and anonymity that I needed. He let me come to terms with what had happened. So when he asked me to do this show, to pretend that we were the same person, I immediately said yes. Dante had never asked me for anything, and after all that he had done for me, I couldn’t say no.”

I would have done the same thing for Aunt Sylvia. Ihaddone the same thing for her. She wanted me to go on the show, and despite my reservations, I did. For her. I couldn’t tell her no, either.

He shifted his position again, turning his body toward me, his voice clear and strong. “Dante had fallen in love with Lemon, and he would have done anything to make her happy. She had a publicity firm that she was trying to get off the ground. Dante convinced our family to hire her. He volunteered to be on the show to help. And he begged me to do whatever I could to make the show a success to benefit her career.”

I pulled my blanket tighter around me. Despite the weather outside, the ice wall enclosing my heart had shattered into a million pieces. And like the Grinch’s, because it was no longer bound, my heart grew three sizes.

“It was just something I had to get through. I didn’t imagine I would meet anyone that I liked. I didn’t want to. I hadn’t had a real relationship since Veronique died. I thought that I might never be happy again. I thought I would never be able to trust a woman again.” His eyes flicked up to mine. “Until I met you.”

My breath caught. If someone had asked me to describe each emotion I felt in that moment, I wouldn’t have been able to. I was moved by what he had said. Excited. Sad for what he had gone through. Angry at him for not telling me sooner. Angry at myself for not letting him tell me. Forgiving. And a million other things. But they were all tangled up, and I couldn’t figure out which ones were the strongest or which ones I should listen to.

“I can’t describe what happened the night we met. There you were tangled up in your evening gown, dangling on that fence, and you were laughing. It made my heart feel light. I didn’t know what to think about you. But from that first moment, as clear as I knew anything else, I knew we were meant to be together. I knew I would fall in love with you. Somehow, I just knew you were the one for me. I didn’t want that to happen. I fought it. But I couldn’t stay away from you.”

He had his arm along the couch cushions, and by pure instinct, I reached out to take his hand. He interlaced our fingers. “I started seeking you out. I thought about you constantly. I kissed you, even when I shouldn’t have. The more I fell for you, the more I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I’d made a promise to Dante, and I always keep my word. But it made me sick that I was lying to you. Especially after Cozumel.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth in the elevator? When I told you everything, why weren’t you just honest with me then?”

His fingers tightened around mine. “Because it wasn’t just my secret. It involved Dante, and I had to talk to him first. When we got back, I talked to him. I talked and talked. And he begged me not to tell you. He was afraid of what you might do, that you would tell the others and ruin the show. And he was worried that if something went wrong, Matthew Burdette, the show’s owner, would ruin Lemon’s business.”

“I wouldn’t have told anyone. I would have kept it between us.”

“I know,” he said, his thumb stroking my hand, setting off little whirlpools of fire. “But Dante doesn’t know you like I do. Now I would choose differently. If I could go back and do it over, I would have told you the first night we met.”

“Since Doctor Who isn’t real, there’s no TARDIS to let you go back and change it.”

“And it is the biggest regret of my life.”

Mine too.

“That night in my room on the show,” he went on, and my skin heated. It was a night I didn’t think I’d ever forget. “I wanted to tell you then. I tried. Three different times. It’s no excuse, but I wanted you to know the truth before things ... progressed.”

And I had told him I didn’t care. I couldn’t exactly accuse him and get angry with him when he had tried to tell me and I hadn’t let him. Should I apologize? Say something?

But I didn’t have a chance to speak. “I know how selfish I’ve been. I probably should have left you alone and let you move on with your life. But I couldn’t. I missed you so much that it was like somebody had torn out my heart and carried it across the ocean. I tried to live my life. But all I wanted was to talk to you. See you. Hold you. And even if you never want to be with me again, I had to at least try to make things up to you. To at least be your friend. Because I don’t want to live the rest of my life without you in it.”

What could you say to something like that? My heart had jumped up into my ears. Despite what I’d thought, he hadn’t come here to manipulate me or force his way into my life. He wasn’t trying to win anyone over or get me into a relationship. He just wanted to be near me.

He tugged on my hand, pulling me even closer. I put my legs on top of his lap. But he didn’t hold me. Because he still wanted to look at me. He reached out, holding my face and tenderly stroking my cheeks.

“I love you.”

What the Spock? “You love me?” I asked in a teeny voice. It probably should have been obvious, but sometimes I was slow on the uptake. And it was one thing to guess at his feelings, but it was totally different to hear him say the words.

A spectacular smile lit up his whole face, the kind that threatened to set the snow surrounding us on fire. There was a smokiness in his voice that had nothing to do with the flue. “I’m not like my brother. I can’t quote poetry. I can only tell you how I feel. And I feel like I have always loved you and have spent my whole life waiting to find you. Even when I didn’t want to love you, because it hurt, I still did. It’s not something I could control. I couldn’t stop loving you any more than I could stop breathing—it’s become so much a part of me.”

He might not have been able to recite poems, but he had a poetic soul. A thousand thoughts screamed inside my head. That I should say it back. Wondering if I did still love him, too. Recognizing the enormity of this moment and what it meant to me that he said he loved me. Finally understanding why he did what he did, and finding that I could forgive him for it.

And knowing that I could trust in myself, and in him, and that we could move past this.

Together.

He ran one of his rough thumbs over my lower lip and my bones liquefied.