“Aaron, please…”

  “Annette.” He licked his dry lips and looked around the room before bringing his tired and heartbroken gaze back to me. “Listen, I understand your innocence. You're young and naïve… inexperienced, and I by no means say that in derogatory terms, just frank honesty. I think your inexperience might leave you unaware just how heartbroken you left me. I brought you to France, to meet my family, to propose, and you ran off. You literally ran off and left the country without a single word to me.”

  I cast my gaze to the floor, ashamed of my behavior, but loathed to be reminded once again how ineptly I’d acted.

  “Please, this isn’t an attack on your character, but my need to let you know about mine. I’m a bit more worldly than you. I’ve been around a time or two. I’ve known women who are calculating, manipulative, and cunning. They can take a man’s heart and trample it with their elegant heels, all while keeping their immaculately manicured claws firmly around his wallet. I know how to keep my heart under wraps, keep it safe. I’ve travelled the world and have seen it all… but you. Nothing in my life prepared me for you, for how I would come to feel about you. You can’t begin to imagine what it was for me when I found Rupert’s ring on my dresser.”

  He held my gaze with an intensity that shook me.

  “In my heart… in my gut, I knew right away what it meant, but I didn’t want to believe it. And when Mother told me you’d left, I didn’t want to believe that either. I searched everywhere for you, desperate to find you and prove my mother wrong. I wanted to believe you’d gone off to roam the grounds, after all, a marriage proposal was a lot to think about. My search for you led me to the very place Kristine had plotted to have Rupert killed.”

  “Aaron,” I said softly, hurting for all the pain I’d caused him. “You don’t have to tell me all this. I know I was wrong and…”

  “No, I need to tell you this. I stood there, in that very deadly spot and looked out over the Aragon property, very much as Rupert must have done that day. I stood there, Annette, and saw it all. I saw just how vile and ugly a woman’s heart could be. I saw Kristine’s love for Eric and her desire to get Rupert out of the way; to take only what she wanted from him, and to take his life in order to attain it.” He swallowed the ball of pain that’d accumulated in his throat and looked thoughtfully at me. “Throughout all that, I saw Rupert’s love for Kristine. Undying, unending, undeniable. She needn’t have plotted to kill him for he would have gladly died for her, so deep was the love he had for her. For all the pain, for the constant betrayal, he still loved her and still wanted her. Had she come to him to ask for his forgiveness, he would not have hesitated… anything to get her back… anything to have her in his life.”

  He pulled me into his arms, but refrained from pulling me too close. “I understand the love Rupert had for Kristine. I understand that intensity, that depth of emotion. It’s the same love and devotion I have for you. It’s irrational, more so when you realize how rational a man I am. I’ve tried to fight it, but I can’t help how I feel. I can’t help what I feel for you. While you might see a man of the world, an Aragon, the owner of the Opera House, but the simple truth is that I’m just a man… a man who is in love with you.”

  “Aaron,” I whispered, touched by all he’d said. Cupping his cheek in my hand, I wished I had the ability to sooth all his pain, but knew there was little I could do.

  He pressed his cheek heavily into my hand and closed his eyes.

  “All right,” I murmured. He’d done so much for me, had been there every time I’d felt blue or insecure or inadequate. “I won’t let you down, Aaron. From the very first moment I met you, you’ve been there for me. I want you to know you can count on me as well.”

  Turning his lips into my palm, he kissed me, then pulled me into his arms. “Good,” he whispered into my hair, his voice filled with relief, with restrained joy. Bringing his lips to my temple, he muttered words of hope for our future, of time and space that would allow our love to grow, of the blessing of my part in his life.

  It all sounded so perfect, so promising.

  As he brought his lips to my cheeks and slowly kissed his way to my lips, my own longing and desire for him grew. I forgot about the proposal, about everything and sought only to erase the pain I had caused him, only wanting to put aside the memories of the proposal, and reassure him of the affection I held for him. I did not want to marry him, yet I did care for him.

  Was it simply the lack of pressure that left me feeling so willing to succumb? Had the weight of that diamond on my finger been so suffocating?

  With ardor and passion, his lips took possession of mine. Indeed, he’d been around, he’d known women and he’d gained experience; the experience to play his lips against mine in a way that left me weak, to run his fingers along my tender skin and leave it begging for more and to hush words of love and desire in my ear.

  He cupped my cheeks, reluctantly pulled his lips away from mine and looked into my eyes, his gaze brighter than it’d been just minutes earlier.

  I couldn’t help but admire his ability to be so candid, to show himself so vulnerable.

  “Come,” he said softly as he reached for my hand to lead me out of my apartment.

  In silence that was bathed in a new sense of serenity, a new sense of comfort in each other’s presence, we rode down the elevator and headed out to his waiting car and driver.

  “Where to, sir?” the driver asked.

  Aaron put his hand reassuringly to my knee. “Home, Wilfred. Take us home.” His playful glance played in the air a moment before he brought his eyes to me with a teasing wink. “I have something I want to show you.”

  Chapter 3

  The city was alive and exciting. People walked the streets, shopping, talking, eating. Cabs honked their horn at the slightest hesitation cars showed at green lights. Buses elbowed their way through it all, squeezing their large bulk between the tiniest space by surrounding cars.

  Through the havoc that was New York’s streets on any given night, the driver easily maneuvered Aaron’s car, bringing us to Aaron’s building.

  I glimpsed Aaron’s sly grin as we rode up in his personal elevator.

  “What are you up to?” I asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  The elevator opened directly into his spacious and luxurious apartment… filled with red roses.

  “Aaron!” I couldn’t help but smile. “These are all so beautiful.”

  He beamed. “I know you returned the engagement ring, and I understand you don’t want to get married…” He turned away and scanned the room then muttered softly, “For now.”

  Plowing through the dozens of roses he reached for a briefcase on the dining room table and flipped it open. “Realizing you didn’t want to marry me was difficult, and on the long flight back to New York I managed to bring myself to a place where I could accept it… understand it. However, as we made our approach, as I scanned the New York skyline, as I realized I was coming home, not only here…” he spread his arms out and gestured at the lavish apartment, “but also the Opera House. And then it suddenly struck me. You ran away without saying anything. You didn’t even want to see me.”

  With an old thick binder in his hand he turned to me. “I almost panicked at the thought. I mean, leaving me behind was one thing, but I would hate to think that my foolish need to push you into a marriage you weren’t ready for could actually push you away from the opera.”

  Stepping to him, my lips parted, I was eager to set the record straight, but he continued.

  “I don’t want whatever has happened between us to affect your role at the Opera House. I depend on you. The whole cast and crew depends on you. I would hate to see you leave because of me. Please tell me you’ll stay on.”

  “Aaron, my role at…”

  “I’ll do whatever you want in order to keep you with us. Give you a bigger dressing room, get you a private driver, arrange to have the finest caterer fix meals just the way you like them.”

  Charmed by his effort, I chuckled. “You don’t have to do any of that, Aaron.”

  He set the binder down and came to me. “I want to do all that. I want to do what you want.” His eyes pierced into mine and held me. “I want to make you happy, Annette. I mean that.”

  Still chuckling, I reached for his hand, eager to cut through the tension that had so quickly grown. “Of course I’ll stay Aaron. I love the Opera House. I love everyone there and have no intention of going anywhere.”

  With a blend of enthusiasm and relief, I leaned into him. “Thank you,” he murmured as he kissed my brow.

  “I also like the idea of remaining friends. I don’t see why we can’t work together, enjoy each other’s company, and have fun.”

  “Speaking of fun…” He turned around, a streak of boyish excitement in his every movement, and reached for the binder on the table. “This is what I wanted to show you.”

  I gave the binder an unimpressed glance. “And what is that?”

  “The next runaway hit. The next marvel of the Opera House.” He held the binder up. “This is to be my next project… our next project.”

  His enthusiasm was contagious. Without even seeing a word or a note, I was excited at the prospect of starting something new.

  “Come take a look.” He led the way to the sofa, cleared the vases of roses from the coffee table and opened the binder.

  Right away I was faced with sketches for new costumes. “What are these?” I picked up a sheet, grinning as I looked at the elegant gowns and impoverished rags.

  “Just a few ideas I had for what you should wear.”

  I glanced at him with a small smile tickling my lips. “You draw?”

  “The flight here was long and getting you off my mind wasn’t easy. I needed something to occupy my time. I’ve already faxed a few of these along to the costume department and, if we’re lucky, we’ll have something for you to try on tomorrow.”

  “And this is the music?” I said as I reached for the sheet of music.

  He nodded. “One of the most hauntingly beautiful melodies I’ve ever heard. The notes alone are heart wrenching… and when you add the woeful lyrics… The crowds will love it. I dare any patron to leave the hall with a dry eye. I’ve been envisioning this opera on my stage since I’ve found it.”

  “Find it. Where did you find this?”

  “In Paris. My search… for so much truth led me to rummage through a lot of old documents. I found letters and journals and too many other uninteresting papers, but this… This was a completely unexpected surprise. A complete and well written opera. And it’s perfect for you.”

  “The Traitor,” I said as I read the cover sheet. “Interesting title.” Flipping through the pages I sought the author and composer, and finally saw Rupert Aragon’s name on the last page. “Rupert wrote this?”

  “So it seems.”

  “But why didn’t he produce it. Why did he hide it?”

  “A man of his standing, in his time… writing and composing simply wasn’t something one was supposed to do. From what little I read of his notes and entries in his journal, he could sing as well. He even imagined himself in this opera. I guess for him the Aragon name was a curse in more ways than one. It kept him from his dream. And look here…” Reaching for the sheets in my hand, he turned to the second page and pointed to a scribbling in the margin. “He’d intended to have Kristine play this part. He intentionally wrote it in a way that would showcase, in every way possible, Kristine’s talent. I mean, look at these notes. Look at the range needed to sing such notes.”

  I cocked a brow at the impressive range. “Have you read it through? Do you know what it’s about? And what kind of role would I have?” I rattled off the questions with increased enthusiasm and he was obviously pleased by my reaction.

  “The very role intended for Kristine; that of a murderess.”

  I guffawed and took a seat back as though physically attached by the notion. “Aaron, I can’t play a murderess. I can’t take on such a role.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s so far removed from who I am. I’d never be able to deliver even a note with any conviction.”

  He pulled me into his arms. “First off, I think you’re underestimating yourself. You have the ability to dig deep and pull out the most magnificent performance, regardless of the character’s immoral ways. And you’ve lived as Kristine before when she possessed you. You know how she felt, know how she walk, talk, thought… the role is based on her. Secondly, I think New York would go wild to see the sweet and innocent Annette sink her teeth into such a rich and interesting role.”

  “I don’t know, Aaron. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I really don’t think I have it in me.”

  “Look, I know this isn’t at all who you are. I know it’s not you. You’re not Kristine. You’re just playing her in this opera.” Aaron looked around. “Kristine is no longer, although to many whom she had come across…she still haunts them in memory. Perhaps this is a way to deal with that memory, to put it in a way that we can handle…to finally put closure to her.”

  “This isn’t just about producing a long lost opera, is it? She’s haunted you. Kristine is still around and she’s getting to you.” I bought my hand to his cheek and gazed into his eyes. “She has, hasn’t she?”

  He looked lost and didn’t answer.

  “But why would she come after you? What does she want now?” I stood and paced amidst the forest of red roses. “I’m so sorry, Aaron. There’s no reason you should get caught up in all this. None of this is your fault. I can’t believe it’s come to this. I can’t believe she’s bringing you into all this. You're innocent and don’t deserve this.”

  Consumed with rage and growing frustration, I pounded my heel to the floor and clenched my fingers around the pages of music. How far would Kristine go? Would she drive him insane?

  Aaron hurried to my side and stopped my frantic pacing with a firm grip of my elbows. “Annette, I can take care of myself. Don’t let this upset you.”

  “No, you don’t understand. You don’t know what she can do. But I know what she’s doing, what she’s trying to do, and I won’t let her, Aaron. I swear I won’t let her play with your head the way she did with mine and Eric’s. She’s going too far.”

  Feeling so protective of him, I pulled him close and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t want her to do anything that could hurt you.” Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him, a kiss filled with fear and guilt.

  He responded with warm reassurance and when he pulled away, he seemed confident and invincible, but the strange little smile on his lips left me wondering how he truly felt.

  Chapter 4

  The sun splintered in through the heavy drapes and pierced through my sleep. For a few moments I was lost and disoriented as I tried to figure out where I was. Nothing was familiar. Then I saw the glare of rosy red and knew I’d fallen asleep on Aaron’s couch.

  “Hi, sleepy head.” Chipper and more wide awake than anyone should be at this time of morning, Aaron set a massive mug of coffee on the table beside me. “It’s time you get ready to go to the Opera House.”

  I sat up, but hugged the thick and warm comforter around me. “What time is it?”

  “Later than you think. Jet lag doesn’t affect everyone in the same way. I seem to thrive on it, whereas you…”

  “Yeah, I get it,” I groaned through a yawn as I reached for the coffee and took an invigorating gulp. “Jet lag doesn’t sit well with me. Then again, you did keep me up pretty late.”

  He chuckled and sat beside me, his gaze on the music, notes and journals on the table. “As I recall, you're the one who absolutely had to read through everything. I believe when I headed off to go to bed, you were humming the opening.”

  “Okay, I admit it. You hooked me with this melody, this melody you call so haunting.” I took another big gulp of coffee. “And the lyrics… Rupert had a rare talent. It’s really too bad he wasn’t permitted to explore it further. Who knows what masterpieces he could have produced.”

  Aaron nodded. “I’m happy to see you're as enamored with this production as I am. The costume department has worked through the night and they have two gowns for you to try… corset and all.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing what they’ve already come up with. Let’s go.” I downed the rest of my coffee and stood. Giving myself a quick once over, I was pleased to see the clothes I’d slept in didn’t give away that fact.

  “Don’t worry,” Aaron said with a knowing grin. “You look great… as always.”

  We headed out to his waiting car and were at the Opera House within minutes.

  “It feels so great to be back. I know we weren’t gone long, but I was already beginning to miss this place.”

  “It pleases me greatly to hear you say that.” He led me to my dressing room. At the door, he stopped and turned to me. “I’ll go see the music director with these notes and come back to see how you're doing later.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He leaned in to kiss me. “Bye, sweetie.”

  My body instantly tensed and stiffened.

  “Sorry,” he said with a boyish grin. “It’s a pleasant habit that’s going to be hard to break. I’ll do my best to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

  With a wink and a noble bow, he left me to rediscover my dressing room.

  Three dresses in various states of completion were laid out on the sofa. Atop them all was a rather tiny corset. Anxious to see how these new costumes would fit, I slipped out of my day-old clothes and pulled the corset on. With a notion I found rather industrious, I put it on backwards, laced it up as far as I could then swung it around to the back. Feeling clumsy and awkward I did my best to pull the laces up tight, but only managed a barely adequate fit.