LEAD ME ON by Julie Ortolon (find a book to read TXT) 📕

first met him, but his hair hung in loose waves nearly to his shoulders.

“Wow, talk about a stud muffin,” Aunt Viv said. “Although I can’t believe they let him wear solid black and sit on a white sofa. The cameraman must have had a fit with the lighting.”

“Scott always wears black,” Allison muttered absently.

“Scott?” Aunt Viv asked. “As in your Scott?”

Allison didn’t answer as Keshia finished thanking Scott for agreeing to the interview and asked him to talk about the book.

“In Deep is set on an imaginary island off the coast of South America,” Scott said, his voice the same deep rumble that had soothed and seduced her at will. “But I drew heavily on some of the history here in Galveston. Mostly the stories about the sunken ship at Pearl Island.” He gave a short summary of the legend of Pearl Island and how he’d incorporated bits of it into his fictional story.

“I had a chance to read an advance copy,” Keshia said, “and I really like how you wove in the ghosts. They added a touch of romance not always found in your books. Well, tragic romance, since that part doesn’t end happily.”

“Most ghost stories don’t.” A corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile, and Allison’s heart bumped in response.

“True. The book was excellent, by the way, sure to please your many fans.”

“Thank you.”

“On a more personal note, I wanted to ask you about the book’s dedication.” Keshia opened a copy of the book she had in her lap. “ ‘To Allison, for teaching me the true treasures in life have nothing to do with sunken chests of pirate gold.’ ”

Alli covered her mouth as emotions swelled inside her: surprise, hope, fear. And longing. So much longing.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Keshia continued, “isn’t one of the owners of the Pearl Island Inn named Allison?”

“Yes.” Scott shifted his weight, as if trying to sink back into the sofa.

“You stayed there while researching the book, correct?”

“Yes.” Scott cleared his throat, and crossed an ankle over the opposite knee, creating a barrier between him and the camera.

Vivian laughed. “Talkative fellow, isn’t he?”

Allison ached, watching him and feeling his discomfort.

Keshia smiled, but her eyes held impatience. “When we first set up this interview, you said no personal questions, but before we started you changed your mind and said I could ask anything. I suppose my first question would have to be why the change of heart?”

“I, um—” He burrowed down a bit more and propped an elbow on the armrest so he could press a fist to his mouth, creating another barrier to hide behind. “Allison, the woman I dedicated the book to, claims I have a problem being open. So, I thought I’d give it a shot. Sort of a practice run.”

“I take it you two became involved on a personal level then.”

“Oh yeah.” His laugh held no humor. “Until she, um-—” He cleared his throat. “She dumped me.”

Keshia blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly. “For not being open?”

He gave one curt nod.

“Why is that a problem for you?”

The cameraman zoomed in tighter on Scott’s face and Alli could see the lines of strain about his eyes. “A lot of reasons. Mostly because Lawrence hasn’t always been my name. I was born Scott LeRoche.”

“LeRoche? As in LeRoche Enterprises?”

Scott nodded. “John LeRoche is my father, which is one of the reasons I never answer personal questions. The few people who know assume my success is somehow due to family money or connections, especially since I was only twenty-four when I sold my first book. But nothing could be further from the truth. John tried to pressure me into going to work for him. I told him to stuff it and he cut me off, which was fine by me. I was still pretty hostile toward him for the way he treated my mother during the divorce. He had his own reasons for finally wanting to wash his hands of me.”

“And what reasons were those?”

“Look, I...” He sat forward abruptly and scrubbed his face with both hands. The cameraman adjusted the angle, creating a feeling of intimacy. Alli felt as if Scott were sitting right before her, talking straight to her. “I really loved my dad when I was a kid. That might surprise most people, because he can be a dictatorial tyrant, but with me, he was different. I think he really got off on having a son. My sister’s older, and he never had time for her, but with me, he always made time.”

He smiled sadly. “I can remember going with him to his office, a big intimidating place that looks down on New Orleans and the Mississippi River. He’d sit behind his massive desk, giving orders to men who basically groveled before him, and I thought he was God.”

“So, you and your father are close.”

“Were,” Scott stressed. “Past tense.”

“What happened?”

Scott blew out a breath. “As I got older, I realized that while he doted on me, he treated my mother and sister with impatience and neglect. He and my mom fought constantly, and if I got upset on her behalf, he’d tell me women were just whiny and demanding by nature. I bought that at first, because the mighty John LeRoche knew everything. But it bothered me, too, because, well... she was my mom and I hated to see her hurting.”

“What is your relationship with your mother?”

“Strained.” He raised a brow, as if the word were an understatement. “When I was young, she resented me because of my closeness to my dad. Even after that closeness was severed, she still blamed me for everything that wasn’t right with her world, but she started relying on me more and more to fix whatever was making her unhappy. She and my sister still do that, but I don’t blame them. The older I got, the less John was around, so they didn’t have anyone else they could count on.”

“What severed your closeness with your father?”

“The day I realized why my