Page 25 of The Texan's Secrets

A shot of guilt kicked in as he moved her way. “I...have a confession.”

She stilled, looking worried. “You’re married? Engaged? Have a girlfriend?”

“No,no,” he quickly answered with a definitive shake of his head. “Nothing like that.”

She blew out a breath. “Scared me there for a second.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You really shouldn’t start a sentence that way, you know.”

“You’re right.” She made a very valid point. “Okay. Here’s the thing. I got you here tonight under false pretenses.”

“You mean you didn’t need my help with an interface a first-year technology student could build?” Even with a smirk, she was beautiful.

He gave her a sheepish grin. “That obvious?”

“I was hoping.”

“Hoping?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

“That it was a ruse because you wanted to see me again.”

“It was a ruse because I wanted to see you again,” he confirmed and moved in a little closer. “And I didn’t want to wait until the k!smet party.”

“Impatient?”

“Yes.” And it was unusual for him. In fact, everything about this situation was unusual for him.

Making love with Emilia had been off the charts fantastic. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. For starters, he was more than curious now about the always-elusive hacker Emilia Scott. What he knew of her from public sources was impressive. And now, what he knew of her in person was amazing.

Her smile widened, a question in her eyes as she lifted the bottle, clearly offering to pour.

“Please do. So, from Boston you said.” He reminded her of one of the few personal information exchanges they’d had while riding. He’d told her then that he grew up in Royal but had moved away for a few years.

She nodded now. “North End mostly.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“None that I know about.” She edged one of the glasses his way and sat down.

“You suspect you might have secret siblings?” It was yet another intriguing element to her.

“I was put into state custody when I was four years old.”

Orphaned himself as a child, his heart went out to her. “Something happened to your parents?”

“Maybe.” The expression on her face said it all as she took a sip.

He fought an urge to draw her into his arms and comfort her.

“What I do know,” she continued, “is I was found in a park. Nobody claimed me, and nobody saw who left me there.”

The story was worse than he’d expected. “So, you don’t know anything about your family?”

“Nothing about them at all.”

“Were you adopted?” He was holding out hope for a happy ending here.

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