Page 88 of The Texan's Secrets

“That’s wonderful,” Misha said on a whisper. “Jericho will be overwhelmed.”

Maggie nodded. Then she sniffed. “I can’t cry. I’ll ruin my makeup.”

“Don’t you dare cry,” Misha warned. “You’ll get us all going. And none of us are allowed to shed a tear before the pictures.”

“Maggie, honey?” Gail called from the bottom of the stairs. “The flowers are here.”

“The final piece,” Natalie said to Maggie. “You are a stunning bride.”

Maggie touched the necklace again. “I feel like I need a security guard.”

“In another hour, you’ll have Jericho,” Misha said, linking her arm with Maggie’s. “Let’s get you to the church.”

Eleven

Nico kept a low profile during the wedding ceremony, sitting in a pew at the back of the big church. The congregation was abuzz with news that Maggie was wearing the Del Rio heirloom necklace, but he couldn’t see that level of detail from where he sat.

The ceremony was touching, and a lump formed in his chest when he listened to the vows. It was clear Maggie and Jericho were meant for each other and would have a long, happy life together. He knew now he wanted that with Emilia. He also knew it would likely never happen.

Once the church had cleared, he took his time traveling to the Cattleman’s Club for the reception. It would hurt like hell to see anger and distance in Emilia’s eyes. And though he still held out a faint hope that there was another explanation for her silence, he knew deep down it was over for them.

At dinner, he sat with a friendly group of strangers far away from the bridal party. Then he listened to the toasts, which were engaging, if a bit long.

When the guests began to circulate, he made his way to the nearest bar to order a cocktail. It was tempting to slip out a side door and call it a night. But Emilia was tantalizingly close, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop hoping for a miracle just yet. So, he stayed.

“Thereyou are.” Sounding harried, Misha grasped his arm and pulled him from the short lineup.

“Shouldn’t you be with the bride?” he asked as he fell into step with her.

She steered him to the edge of the big hall. “Why didn’t youtellme?”

He was baffled by the anxious question. “Tell you what?”

Exasperation came through in Misha’s tone. “About Emilia.”

Nico stilled, bracing himself for the worst. “What about her?”

“That you told her who you were.”

There was a simple answer to that, a tragically simple answer. “Because I didn’t.”

Misha looked confused. “You took her to your place.”

“I did. But I didn’t—” He drew a bracing breath. “It was late, and we didn’t talk much.”

“You made love.”

“It wasn’t the first time.”

A beat went by.

“I didn’t know things had gone that far.”

“Well, they did.”

Misha moved in close. “She knows who you are, Nico. She told me she knew.”

Nico nodded grimly. It was exactly as he’d feared. Emilia had seen something that morning that had given him away. She’d learned the truth and now she was ghosting him. He didn’t blame her.

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