“I’m a married woman, Christian. I can’t do this.”

“It didn’t matter fifteen minutes ago,” he says. “Or seventeen years.”

So he does remember how long it’s been.

My resolve might’ve weakened then, if I did not also remind myself of all the times his sweet nothings turned to sourness and naught.

I shrug, backing up. “It’s late. It’s been great catching up, but I really do need to get home.”

“You … damn it, Jewelann.” He tugs his wilting erection and sits up straight. “Cocktease.”

I shrug again and turn away. Not rushing. I give him a full, long view of the sway of my ass beneath the soft and clinging fabric of this dress I did, in fact, pick out specifically so he could not take it off of me.

Is that a shout following me as I close the door? Something that sounds like my name? Maybe, but it doesn’t matter, because for once I’m the one leaving Christian Campbell behind.

I make it to the car. My stomach roils and twists as I grip the steering wheel, taking in deep breaths, in through my nose and out my mouth. I’m nauseous. I’m giddy. I’m alternately hot and cold, armpits damp but teeth chattering. In the rearview mirror my eyes look wild.

Trying to calm myself enough to drive home, I sit in the parking lot for a good ten minutes with the air blasting against me. My head falls against the steering wheel while I take in deep, slow breaths that sometimes mutate into semi-hysterical giggles when I remember the look on Christian’s face.

Revenge is sweet.

It’s not until I’m pulling into my driveway that guilt slides its knife between my ribs. If Ken finds out I went upstairs to another man’s hotel room, that I let him kiss me and touch me, that I’d ordered him to strip and saw him naked … it won’t really matter that ultimately I didn’t have sex with him. Any of that would be reason enough for my husband to pull the lever dropping the floor out from underneath me, leaving me to hang.

I get out of the car and stare at the dark windows, no lights left on to welcome me home. My husband will never find out, I reassure myself. After all, it’s not the first secret I’ve kept from him.

What’s one more?

CHAPTER
5

SUN STREAMS THROUGH my window when I open my eyes. It’s been a long time since I slept past eight, even on a Sunday, but I didn’t get home until close to four this morning. I don’t know if Eli noticed. When I got back, his room was dark and quiet, but that could have meant he was asleep or playing on his computer with his headphones on. He’s not likely to be out of bed before me, anyway, so I take a few minutes to relax while I stare at the ceiling.

Remembering the feeling of Christian’s hands and lips on me, his tongue in my mouth, I can’t stop the small giggle that forces its way out of my mouth. I have to roll to bury my face in the pillow for a minute to get myself under control. Things had gone farther than I’d wanted, but it had felt so good to put Christian in his place, no matter how briefly, that I can’t stop thinking about it. I’d never rejected him before. Few women probably did. I hope it stung him, hard.