“My wife lied to me,” he said in a low, hard voice. “She cheated behind my back, and fed me a host of lies. I swore I’d never again be taken in by another woman.”
“I didn’t start out to fool you or anyone. You mistook me for Lily. And I thought it so fantastic, I just played along for a little while. Then time went on and still I pretended. When I realized that—”
Emma stopped. She dare not mention falling in love, he would scoff at her tender emotion.
“I tried to tell you last night in the car. Twice. But both times you said not to talk. I had no idea Lily would be home so soon. I was going to explain today.”
“You should have said something before things got out of hand. I’ve thought I was losing my mind. I don’t condone your sister’s lifestyle. She’s too much of a reminder of Crystal. But there was something different when I got back from Italy.”
He ran a hand through his hair.
Emma wanted to brush down his hair, push back the lock that fell over his forehead. Had she ruined everything by her masquerade?
“I’m sorry, Logan. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
His look caused her to step back. Blazing anger met her gaze.
“I’m nothurt, Emma Carter. Mad as heck that I fell for another woman’s lies, but nothurt. You have to care about somebody before they can hurt you.”
He strode away without another look. In seconds all she heard was the soft sound of the sea drifted up from the beach. Other than that, the day was silent
Emma was shocked at the turn of events. Words crowded her mind. She had to explain. Slowly she followed. When she reached the heavy wooden door of his Spanish-style house, she still hadn’t decided exactly what to say, but somehow she had to make him see she was not like Crystal, that she hadn’t meant to deliberately lie, only been caught up in the masquerade. The fantasy. He dealt in fantasy. Surely he’d understand.
Yet she had, maybe not with any malicious intent, but she’d lied nonetheless. Pretense, while fantasy, was also a form of untruth.
She knocked.
Waited.
Nothing.
There was silence behind the door.
“Logan, please, give me a couple of minutes.”
She rapped again. Her knuckles hurt. She opened her hand and pounded her palm against the unforgiving door. Only silence met her efforts.
Slowly she turned and walked away. Tears threatened and she blinked rapidly. She couldn’t give way to tears. She had to think.
Would he ever listen to her, understand?
Or was this to be the end of what might have grown into a lifetime commitment?
Her heart ached and the guilt built until she thought she’d go crazy. It had started out as a harmless gesture. She had so much wanted to pretend she led a carefree, exciting life. The clotheshad made the difference. Wearing her sister’s clothes made her feel free and interesting and gorgeous.
It was as if a spell had broken. Today the magic had ended. Logan wanted nothing to do with her.
Chapter Eighteen
“What was that all about?” Lily asked a few minutes later when Emma closed the kitchen door behind her. She was still at the kitchen table nursing her cup of coffee.
“He’s furious.”
“That, I could tell. Why?”
Emma wandered listlessly over to the table and picked up her cup of cold coffee. She hesitated near the microwave, then turned and tossed the contents down the sink. Maybe she could have warmed it up, but she didn’t. Pouring the last bit from the pot, she switched off the machine.
She pulled out a chair and flopped down. She stared at her cup for a long moment, then raised her gaze to her sister.
