Page 52 of The Texan's Secrets

“And I still want to kiss you.” He desperately wanted to draw her into his arms, apologize for being a boor and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

She didn’t turn into his arms. Instead she rubbed her bare shoulders as she gazed off into the lighted, manicured grounds.

He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around her.

“So,” he said.

“So,” she returned.

“I think that means I like you.” He caught what looked like her reluctant smile.

“Well, I’m a likable person.”

“I mean I like you a lot, Emilia.” He gently turned to face her, touching his hand to her shoulder.

When she didn’t resist, he ducked to catch her gaze.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said, but she didn’t look away.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?” He thought he knew, but he wanted to hear her say it out loud.

“I did it on a lark, for a free date. Paris really wanted—” She shook her head, looking regretful. “This...liking you...being attracted to you... It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Joy rose within him as he lightly brushed her cheek with his thumb. He could hardly keep the delight out of his voice. “But it did.”

She seemed to search his eyes while he stared thoughtfully into hers. He didn’t know what he was going to tell Misha. But he sure as heck wasn’t using the Surprise Me! function to make another match tomorrow. He wasn’t dating another woman while he was with Emilia.

He kissed her.

She kissed him back, and he engulfed her in his arms.

He’d have to tell her the truth about himself, sometime, someday. But not now. Now, he simply wanted to hold her tight and pretend this could last forever.

Seven

As the sun pushed the darkness from her bedroom, Emilia awoke. She was in her own bed but cozily spooned in Nick’s arms.

She lay still for a moment, reflecting on the fact that she’d never spent an entire night with a man and wondering if she should feel awkward. She didn’t feel awkward. She only felt happy.

“Awake?” his low voice sounded in her ear.

“Yes.”

He stretched out his legs. “Good. I can safely move. There’s not a lot of room in here, but I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”

He was right about that. The bed alcove in her loft was narrow, only fitting a standard double bed. Since she’d never had company, there’d always been plenty of room.

She stretched out while he sat up.

“What are the options for coffee around here?”

“There’s a coffee maker downstairs in the kitchen. But Paris might be home.”

“Do you not want Paris to know I stayed?” He frowned at that.

Emilia sat. “Oh, no. It’s not me. I thought that you might—” She shrugged.

“Be self-conscious about spending the night?”

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