Page 93 of The Texan's Secrets

“She knows you lied about being Nick instead of Nico Law. I gave that away a few minutes ago.”

“She already knew.” He gestured to the crowded ballroom. “We just talked about it. We broke up over it.”

Misha shook her head. “She didn’t.”

Nico thought back over the conversation.

Emilia hadn’t said much, but he could tell by her expression that she was upset with him.

“Thing is, she doesn’t know why,” Misha said. “You have to tell her why so she can understand.”

Nico wasn’t buying that logic. “You think telling her I’m a criminal will makes thingsbetter?” The conversation was becoming absurd.

Misha put her hands on her hips. “Do you love her?”

Nico drew back at the frank question.

“Do you?” she demanded.

“I...” He did. Heaven help him, he did love her.

Misha gave him a little shove toward the ballroom. “Go. For goodness’ sake, tell her the whole truth. Don’t be a coward about it.”

Nico squared his shoulders. “I’m not a coward.”

He had flaws, plenty of them. But cowardice? No way.

“Well, you’re acting like one. Fight, Nico. Fight for the woman you love.”

He started to refuse but then clamped his mouth shut.

A flash of triumph came up in Misha’s eyes.

He recognized the expression.

She knew she’d won. She knew that taunt would get through to him. It had worked his entire life.

“Fine,” he said, accepting the challenge his sister had thrown out. “I’ll tell her. And when she walks away, you’ll know you were wrong.”

“If she walks away, I’ll admit I was wrong.”

Nico was satisfied with the bargain. He walked back into the crowd, searching for Emilia. He knew he’d been manipulated by Misha. But she did have a point.

It was bolder and braver to put all his cards on the table. Plus, a tiny part of him held out hope it would work. He tried to squelch the flare of optimism, since he was most likely going to get his chest ripped open even further.

Emilia was on the dance floor, in the arms of some man Nico didn’t recognize.

Jealousy ricocheted through him as he stared at her beauty, her grace, her smile as she chatted with the stranger. Nico imagined what she was saying, something inconsequential or something weighty, maybe something outrageous or funny.

There was nothing he liked better than a conversational parry with Emilia. It entertained him, kept him on his toes and enlightened him all at the same time. He absolutely hated the thought of giving it up.

Finally, the song ended.

He was quick to approach her, worried someone else would ask her to dance.

He came up beside her. “Emilia?”

She turned, and the smile on her face dimmed as she saw him.