Tell Me a Secret (The Story Series Book 4) by Tamara Lush Page A

intruder in my own home.
    “Why are you here?” I blurted.
    He studied me. Something about his appraisal, calculated and sharp, sent a pang of anxious need through me. It baffled me how I was suddenly, magnetically attracted to him. Was I so starved for attention?
    “I wanted to see how you were doing. And apologize for getting so drunk. I feel like I’ve been drinking more since…since everything happened—”
    I interrupted. “I understand.”
    We both nodded, uneasily, and looked at our hands. It made me feel a little better he was as uncomfortable as I was.
    “I’m…still hungover.” I laughed genuinely, breaking the tension.
    He chuckled and nodded, then moved a little closer, his cologne surrounding me and scattering my thoughts. He lightly swept hair away from my face, and his fingertips grazed my cheek in the process. I was shocked by how light his touch was compared to the veritable clumsiness of our time in bed. It made me stop breathing and lean back a few inches, away from him.
    It was dangerous, just the two of us on the sofa. I was too lonely, he was too handsome, and there was a spark of attraction between us, if the tattoo of my heart was any indication. I didn’t want to give in to my biological response to him, didn’t want to succumb to attraction. Intellectually, I knew what was happening. My body, though, wanted something purely carnal.
    “I also wanted to take you out to dinner some time this week. Somewhere nice and expensive. How’s Saturday?”
    “Oh! You mean, me and Charlotte?”
    He shook his head. “Just you. I was thinking Charlotte could go to Laura and Sarah’s. For the night.”
    I swallowed. “Um…”
    What? My sober brain couldn’t process the idea of planning to spend the entire night with a man. With my brother-in-law. I’d been susceptible to the idea when I was drunk and in Miami. Now, in my Orlando living room, my defenses had almost returned. I was semi-sane again, and the idea of spending the night with Colin probably wasn’t a solid one.
    “Why don’t you think about it and call me tomorrow?” He mentioned an expensive restaurant downtown, then leaned in and kissed me, seized my lips with a familiar insistence.
    I didn’t inhale him like I had the other night, but I did return his kiss. Tonight I was tentative and shy, and he groaned softly, the noise tugging at something deep inside me.
    Now that I was sober, I recognized he kissed differently than my husband. Not in a bad way, just different. Colin’s kisses, like his eyes, were more distant than his brother’s.
    At least when he was sober. When he was drunk, he was more sensual. Or maybe those had been my intoxicated perceptions. I was an unreliable narrator of my own story, apparently.
    “I’m going to go now so you can get some sleep. I want you rested for Saturday,” he murmured, then planted a single, soft kiss on my mouth. He devoured me slowly, carefully, as if he knew exactly how to erase my hesitations.
    Now that was a kiss to take my breath away. Why did his parting gesture have to be such an excellent kiss?
    He grabbed his phone, then paused to study me, his eyes flickering to my mouth. Twirling one of my curls in his finger, he looked amused. “Stunning, even when hungover.”
    Open-mouthed and mute, I gaped at him as he rose and walked to the elevator and pushed the button. The doors slid open.
    “Wait.”
    He turned, a half-smile on his face. I rose from the sofa and stood in front of him. My lips still tingled from the kiss and my heart crashed around my ribcage. I knew what I had to do. Knew what I had to say.
    “Do you want me to stay?” Colin said this in a hopeful whisper, and my stomach tightened with lust. I’d always been a sucker for a man with a deep voice. But tonight, my rational mind overruled my libido.
    “No,” I replied. “I don’t.”
    Colin lifted an eyebrow. “Then why did you ask me to wait?”
    I summoned my courage with an inhale. “I won’t be having