Page 77 of The Texan's Secrets

“I need to get going.”

He drew back in what looked like surprise and disappointment. “Where?”

“To Maggie’s. I’m staying there until the wedding.”

“I know.”

“You know? How can you know?”

Discomfort flickered in his expression. “Misha mentioned it.”

“You talked to Misha...again?” Emilia felt a ripple of jealousy.

“About the investment,” he said, but something in his voice didn’t ring true.

Emilia rolled her chair back and stood, unease building in her chest. “Is there something I should know?”

“About what?” His voice was even, but there was a look of guilt in his eyes.

“About you and Misha. Is something happening between the two of you?”

“No.No!That’s ridiculous. Misha is with Trey Winters.”

“That’s a lot of protesting you’re doing, Nick.” Emilia knew Misha was dating Trey. She also thought Misha was trustworthy. But something was going on here, and she’d be foolish to ignore the signs.

“I’m not protesting.” He paused and seemed to regroup. “Okay, I am protesting. But I’m protesting because you’ve got it all wrong.”

“Okay,” she challenged. “So, tell me what’s right.”

“I’m an investor,” he said. “I’m a big investor, and she wants to keep in touch.”

The explanation made sense on its face. But if the rising share price was anything to go by, Misha had a lot of big investors. Was she keeping in such close touch with all of them? And why did Nick look so guilty?

“You’re lying about something,” Emilia said with conviction, hoping to bluff him into telling her what was really going on.

“Not about that,” he said.

She was surprised he’d as much as admitted his dishonesty.

“About what then?”

His expression softened. “I’m not lying. Sure, I’m not sharing every single thing about myself just yet. But are you?”

His question hit home.

There was still the matter of her hacking the algorithm to get matched with him in the first place. She hadn’t told him that yet.

Should she?

Would she?

After all, what were the minor details of his investment life compared to that big of an omission?

“What?” he prompted. “I can see the wheels turning inside your head.”

“They’re not turning.”

He rose and moved closer, gazing softly into her eyes. Then he brushed her chin with a featherlight touch. “Seriously?”

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