Emily: Sex and Sensibility (The Wilde Sisters 1)

Marco had said they’d go out or perhaps order in. Either way would be fine. He could always get an excellent table at any of the best restaurants in the city, even when he didn’t have reservations, and those restaurants would gladly deliver to their door.

It was the same for her brothers.

Emily stood still, tossed the pillow on the sofa and took a deep breath. Slowly, deliberately, she let it out.

She was turning herself into a nervous wreck.

Meeting his friends was scary enough. Knowing that her charade was about to come to an end was worse.

What was she going to say? Marco, I have something to tell you. My father isn’t just a soldier; he’s a general. And I’m not really from Dallas; I’m from a half-million-acre ranch called El Sueño. I grew up pampered and rich and I never stood on my own two feet until I got to New York. Or maybe she should simply say Here’s the thing, Marco. There is no Emily Madison.

Her cell phone rang. Emily jumped at the sound, then dug for the device in the depths of her shoulder bag.

“Hello?”

“Cara.”

Edgy as she was, just hearing his voice made her smile. “Hi.”

“I’m on my way home.”

“Good. That’s good. I’ll be showered and dressed by the time you get here.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Shower and dress.” His voice was low and husky. “Wait for me.”

“But your friends…”

“Wait for me,” he said. “Just another few minutes.”

She heard the sound of his phone disconnecting. Disconsolate, she stared at hers until the screen went dark.

She remembered all the times she, Jaimie and Lissa had talked about men. Agreeing that guys were a good thing to have around had been easy. For sex and heavy lifting, Jaimie or maybe Lissa had said, and they’d all laughed.

They’d never mentioned love.

The truth was, she hadn’t thought about love. It had always been something way, way out there in the future, kind of like death and taxes and whether or not you’d ever use Botox.

And now here she was, not just in love but desperately in love. With the only man she woul

d ever want, the only man she hoped to spend her life with. And everything he knew about her was untrue.

Wrong.

The details were untrue.

She wasn’t.

She was the woman he’d fallen in love with. She was Emily no matter what her last name was.

He would see that, understand it, accept it.

The sun dropped lower. The sky began to darken. And just when she knew she was going to weep, she heard the elevator give its soft sigh as it rose toward the penthouse.

She swung around. Never mind that guests were coming. Never mind anything but the truth. She would confess right now…