“You’re aware that I objected—no, let’s be candid—that I fought the business of your becoming engaged to my sister.”

“I’m aware that both you and Loubet expressed doubts.”

“I don’t like my opinion coinciding with Loubet’s,” Alexander muttered, then gave Reeve a quick, completely open smile. “My father considers Loubet’s talents and experience as minister of state compensation for his outdated views on a great number of things.”

“Then there’s the matter of the limp.” At Alexander’s expression, Reeve blew out a stream of smoke. “A great deal of our families’ histories are known to each other, Alex. My father happened to be in the car along with Loubet and the prince when they had the accident some thirty-five years ago. Your father broke his arm, mine suffered a mild concussion. Loubet, unfortunately, had more serious injuries.”

“The accident has nothing to do with Loubet’s position now.”

“No, I’m quite sure it doesn’t. Your father doesn’t handle things that way. But perhaps he’s more tolerant because of it. He was driving. A certain amount of remorse is only human. In any case”—Reeve brushed the subject aside—“it merely serves to show that our families are tied in certain ways. Old friendships, old bonds. My engagement to your sister was easily accepted because of that.”

“Do you easily accept it?”

This time it was Reeve who hesitated. “Alex, do you want a comfortable answer or the truth?”

“The truth.”

“It wasn’t a simple matter for me to agree to a mock engagement to Gabriella. It isn’t a simple matter for me to go through the motions of being her fiancé, or to see my ring on her finger. It isn’t simple,” Reeve said slowly, “because I’m in love with her.”

Alexander didn’t speak, nor did he give any sign of surprise. After a moment, he reached out and ran a fingertip down a silver picture frame. His sister looked back out at him, smiling and lovely. “What do you intend to do about it?”

Reeve lifted a brow. “Isn’t it your father’s place to ask, Alex?”

“It isn’t my father you’ve told.”

“No.” Reeve crushed out his cigarette slowly, deliberately. “I don’t intend to do anything about it. I’m well aware what my responsibilities and my limitations are as concerns your sister.”

“I see.” Alexander picked up a pen and ran it absently through his fingers. It seemed he didn’t know Reeve MacGee as well as he’d thought. “And Brie’s feelings?”

“Are Brie’s feelings. She doesn’t need any more complications at this point. Once she remembers, she’ll no longer need me.”

“Just like that?”

“I’m a realist. Whatever develops between Brie and me now is very likely to change once her memory returns.”

“And yet you want to help her get to that point.”

“She needs to remember,” Reeve said evenly. “She suffers.”

Alex looked at the picture again, was drawn to it. “I know that.”

“Do you? Do you know how guilty she feels that she can’t remember the people who want her love? Do you know how frightened she is when she has one of the dreams that take her to the edge of remembering, then leave her lost?”