Page 2 of The Fake Affair

"You've been avoiding me all day."

My spine presses against the nearest bookshelf. A row of spines digs into my back as I manage what I hope is a nonchalant scoff. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" He sets down his glass. "Every time I’ve tried to speak to you, you've disappeared faster than my father's inheritance.”

I snort at that—I can’t help it. “Did you just make a joke about your family drama?”

“Thought it might make you smile.” His face softens, but not in the way that’d make conversation, or any of this, simpler. “You’ve looked like you needed one all evening.”

Oh. That’s... unexpectedly sweet. Heat unfurls in my chest, and I don’t know what to do with it. I want to blame the whiskey, but I know it’s not that. It’s him. It’s always been him. This sudden, unnerving gentleness in a man who usually only exists in sharp edges and shadows.

“Logan...” I start, but I’m not sure how to finish. Warn him away? Encourage him? My brain feels fuzzy from the whiskey and his proximity.

“I’ve always liked how you say my name.” His accent wraps around the words like ribbons of silk. “No pretense. No agenda. It’s just,” he pauses, eyes searching mine, “...real.”

“You don’t know me well enough to make that assessment.” But I don’t move away when he steps closer.

“I know enough.” His hand comes up to my face, thumb brushing my cheek. “I know you’re the only one of Audrey’s friends who never tried to get my attention.”

I roll my eyes. “So, what? Am I supposed to throw flips because you noticed I don’t think you’re the center of the universe?”

He laughs. “I also know that you have a very sharp tongue and you’re not afraid to speak your mind. I admire it too.”

His phone rings. It’s Audrey.

Logan answers. “Aye... what do you mean ‘now’? The storm’s getting worse... right. No, I understand... safe travels.”

He ends the call and looks at me, and the moment his eyes meet mine, a delicious shiver runs up my spine. It’s got to be that classicin my head, I’m doing dirty things to youpromise that lingers in those luminous irises. “They’re leaving for their honeymoon now.”

My throat feels incredibly dry, but I pull my brows together and frown in response. “What? They aren’t supposed to leave until morning.”

Logan shrugs as he pockets his phone, momentarily breaking eye-contact to look at the storm raging just outside the windows of the study. “Something about the storm affecting flights for tomorrow.”

“Oh.” The party’s over then. Just like that, the night’s center shifts. The music, the people, the celebration—it’s all gone. And whatever’s left is this. The two of us in a room filled with things unsaid. “I should probably?—”

“Come home with me.”

I freeze. Not from fear. From recognition. I know this path. I’ve lingered at the edge of it in quiet moments, dared to imagine what it would feel like if the line between us ever snapped. His voice, low and steady and unflinchingly sure, turns imagination into fact.

His eyes find me again. My pulse stirs beneath my skin, a slow throb that deepens with every second he holds my gaze. This is why I kept my distance tonight. One look from Logan Fraser and I come undone.

I should say no. I shoulddefinitelysay no. This is Audrey’s brother. This is?—

I moan a little as he steps toward me and his lips crash into mine, tasting of whiskey. I’ve wanted to taste his kiss for ages, a secret I’ve pushed away repeatedly. My hand flattens over his shirt, the hard planes of his chest muscles a tantalizing temptation. I feel his strong body press me harder against the bookshelf. Books dig into my back, but I couldn’t care less because his tongue is doing things that make my toes curl in my heels.

I let my fingers trail up his neck and into the softness of his hair. I am consumed by him, and with his hands on my hips and his cock growing hard in his pants, I feel a thrill knowing he’s into me too.

Then, there’s cold air where his warm body was. He pulls back just enough for me to feel the loss of him, his breaths coming in deep pants.

“This is a terrible idea,” I gasp.

“Probably.” His Scottish brogue has gone thick and rough, his voice husky. “Say no, lass, and I’ll call you a car right now.”

Nodoesn’t seem to exist in my vocabulary tonight. My entire body is alive for him, craving his touch, needing to feel his naked skin on mine.

I look up at him without hesitation, saying, “Take me home with you.”

His answering smile is downright sinful.

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