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

dinner with you. I don’t want to see how it goes. I think I know how it would go.”
    He grinned. “It would be sublime, I think.”
    I shook my head.
    “You seemed to be interested the other night in Miami.” His magnetic gaze bored into me, and I reminded myself to stay strong. I didn’t want mindless lust, expensive restaurants, men who wore watches worth more than I’d ever make in a lifetime.
    “No. Well, yes. I was into it the other night. But not now.”
    “No?” He scowled, probably because he wasn’t used to women declining his charm. “Why?”
    “Because…because a thousand reasons,” I stammered.
    “Like?”
    “Because I’m your sister-in-law, for one. Because I’m in love with my husband, your brother. Because I’m married and what we did the other night was wrong.”
    He shrugged and despite the flippant gesture, I saw sharp pain in his eyes. “You’re single now, as far as I’m concerned. Caleb’s not coming back. You and I both know that. It’s been nine months. I’ve accepted it, and you haven’t.”
    “I might never accept it.”
    He cupped my chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilted my face to meet his. I felt the flame of attraction we’d shared in Miami, and my resolve fell away in little chunks. My breathing turned shallow.
    “None of us want to accept the situation, Emma. It’s a fucking tragedy all the way around. But would he want us to stop living?”
    I swallowed and closed my eyes. “No. He wouldn’t. I’m not sure if he’d want me with you, though. Maybe he would. I don’t know. But you and I—it won’t work…” My voice trailed off.
    “Why? Why wouldn’t it work?”
    I opened my eyes and found him smiling, which ignited smoldering embers in my core. God, he was alluring.
    “Because women are sport to you.”
    He sighed and took his hand away from my face, shooting me an adorably apologetic shrug. “I’m no saint, Emma. I’m a well-heeled rake, to use one of your romance novel terms. But not a bad guy. Maybe give me a go?”
    I rolled my eyes, but inside I hesitated. Maybe I could tame the rake. Wasn’t that how it happened in books? The quirky, adorable woman always tamed the rake. She always became the princess.
    I’d been Caleb’s princess for three glorious years. Maybe with Colin, who was so similar to my husband…
    But no. This—as Colin had pointed out in the moments before our Miami kiss—was real life, not a fairytale. Real life was complicated and tragic. Maybe I would have gambled on him five years before, when I was single. Not now, when I was older and wiser.
    And a mother. And still hopelessly in love with Caleb.
    I shook my head. Colin edged closer, smiling softly. His cologne, once so overpowering, wrapped me in a seductive embrace. Slowly, he swept a lock of hair from my face, turning on the full force of his appeal.
    His smile, his clear blue eyes, positively radiated sex. The trouble was, they radiated toward me and toward a thousand other women, women that had come before me. And even if Colin gave me part of his heart, bestowed some sort of commitment on me—possibly out of pity or duty or even genuine affection—there would still be women after me.
    Make no mistake. He had just said he was no saint. In my experience, when a man told you exactly what he was, you should believe him.
    “No, Colin. No.” I backed away as if he was poison incarnate.
    His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
    “You’re all wrong for me. I’m wrong for you. You’d never make me the center of your life like Caleb did,” I babbled, now pacing the room. “Sure, we’d have hot sex. Amazing sex, maybe. And then?”
    He grinned. “Yeah? And then? We’d have a lot of fun. And maybe it would work. Maybe it would make us forget everything, for a while.”
    “No. I don’t want to forget. And I’d be like all the other women in your life and I can’t risk that. I’d cease to be special. If I ever was special. I want us to be friends.”
    “You’re