by Anna Durand
Though his gaze was aimed at me, I had the strangest feeling that he wasn't really looking at me.
Another chill rattled me.
"I'll come back for the rest of my things," I said, "while you're at work. This is the last time you'll see me, Alex."
Please say something, please beg me not to go and tell me what the hell happened today.
"Goodbye, Catriona."
That was all he said, so I walked out. I flew home the next day, giving up the two years of work I'd completed toward getting my PhD, and started over back in Scotland. Transferring to a new university didn't cost me time in terms of earning my degree. But it cost me so much more in ways that left me scarred on the inside.
I never saw Alex again until that day at Dùndubhan.
Chapter Thirteen
Alex
When I venture downstairs, I find Cat in the kitchen making food. It looks like more than she would eat, so I assume she plans to rope me into sharing breakfast with her. Since I've stopped in the hall, at an angle to the kitchen door where she can't see me, I have two choices. Give in and eat with her. Or flee.
Neither one appeals to me.
So I retreat into my study, taking a seat behind the desk in the leather chair that matches the one in my office on campus. If Catriona wants me to have breakfast with her, she'll need to sit across the desk from me. I glance toward the windows and the bench beneath them. She could sit over there, but that will still keep a distance between us. In fact, it might be better than the chairs on the other side of the desk, since I'll be sideways to her.
I grab a folder from a drawer, choosing one at random, and slide the papers out of it so they lie on my desk in slight disarray. There. Now it looks like I'm busy working on…whatever. I can use that as an excuse to ignore Cat if she insists on invading my study.
My tactic does smell suspiciously like desperation.
No, it's a brilliant plan. Clever. Pragmatic. Not desperate.
The Fates decide to demonstrate their disdain for me yet again by inspiring Cat to sashay into my study thirty seconds after I formulate my brilliant plan.
I focus on my papers, though I have no bloody idea what the pages say. "Busy, Cat. No time to entertain you."
Peripherally, I see her carry a tray of food into the room and set it down on one of the chairs, but I don't pay attention to what's on the tray.
"Go away, Cat."
"But I made you breakfast."
The sultry tone of her voice sends a strange excitement crackling through me. I can smell her too, the feminine scent of her, even through the aromas of the food. Breakfast smells so good my stomach grumbles, but the scent of her makes my cock ache.
"Afraid you'll have to eat alone," I tell her. "As I said, I'm busy."
"Doing what?" She perches on the edge of my desk, plants a hand on it, and leans toward me. She peers down at my papers. "You're too busy to eat because you need to review the instructions for your laser printer?"
Christ, I forgot she can read upside down. I also had no clue what papers I'd dropped on my desk.
"Yes, I need the instructions," I say, trying not to sound annoyed but failing in the attempt. "So I can troubleshoot the printer. It's not working the way I want it to."
If my printer could somehow drive Catriona away, that would be bloody brilliant. It can't do that, though, can it? I'm beginning to think nothing short of alien abduction will drive her away. Maybe I can arrange that. I do know a few college students who are obsessed with UFOs.
Now I stink of desperation.
Cat leans in more. "You have to eat, Alex."
"Not if I'm on a fasting diet, I don't."
"You? Dieting?" She laughs. "The man who once ate ten pancakes in one sitting wants me to believe he's given up food."
"Only for a week or so." However long it will take to get rid of her. "Then I might go on a wheat grass and grapefruit juice diet."
She taps my nose. "You're doing it again, Alex. If this, might that. Why is honesty so difficult for you?"
I drop the pen I hadn't realized I picked up and slump in my chair. "What are the odds I can make you leave me alone?"
"Zero." She smiles. "Might as well eat the food I made for you, since you can't get rid of me."
"Fine. I surrender." I spread my hands to indicate the desktop. "Leave the food here, and I'll eat it while I work."
She shakes her head. "No, mo luaidh, we'll have breakfast together. Here or wherever you like, but together."
Ah, she's bringing out the big guns—the Gaelic phrases. Mo luaidh, which she used to call me ages ago, means my darling or my dear or something like that. Does she think she can charm me with her Scots nonsense? To the point I'll spill all my secrets to her?
Dimples form at the corners of her smile, and her eyes seem to sparkle more in the sunshine coming through the windows. "Are ye regretting tricking me into staying in your house? Too late to change your mind."
"No, it's not. I could evict you if I wanted." I stand up and move closer, because my body seems to have a large magnet inside it that draws me toward her. Bending down, I bring our faces to within centimeters of each other. "Didn't I tell you to go home?"
"I don't want to."
Gazing into her blue eyes, I lose track of what I'd meant to say to her. Catriona's irises are as pale as pools of glacial meltwater, their color shimmering like ripples on a pond. I could drown in those eyes and never want to escape.
But I will not tell her that.
I lean in to whisper in her ear, lowering my voice to a husky murmur. "If you stay, I can't promise not to corrupt you."
"Go on, then, do it. I dare you."
Christ, I want to do that. Corrupting her sounds like the start of a fantastic night we could spend in my bed, but in reality, it would mean something much different. I've been corrupted for a long, long time, and I can't undo the consequences of the things I've done. It's nothing I want Cat to experience. She's lovely and sweet and kind, all the good things good people should be. Blackening her soul to match mine… I won't do it.
Which is why she needs to leave.
I straighten and step back. "You can have your breakfast in one of those chairs"—I point to them, then to the window seat—"or on the bench there. Your choice. There won't be any conversation, so if that's what you're hoping for, I suggest you ring one of your sisters or cousins."
"Maybe I'll ring Rory. He'd love to hear what you just suggested doing to me."
Feigning complete disinterest, I settle onto my chair again. "Corrupting you isn't worth my time. You're much too…upstanding. It wouldn't be any fun."
She makes a noise that sounds like "hmf," then sets a plate and a glass of milk on my desk.
"Milk?" I say. "Am I a child?"
"It's good for you, Alex, but I gave you tea too." She takes her tray to the window seat and sits down with her legs stretched out across the bench. "Besides, milk goes with what I made you for breakfast."
At least I have tea, so I don't feel like a child, with her as my governess.
But I do like the idea of Cat playing that role the next time I seduce her.
I lift the lid off my plate. It contains waffles. Three of them. Stacked in the center of the plate with a huge mound of melting butter on top and syrup filling the holes in the topmost waffle and dribbling down the sides to pool on the plate.
"You're wanting me to die of a heart attack, then?" I say, glancing sideways at her. "This is enough butter to serve all your brothers, their wives, and their children."
Cat slides a forkful of waffle into her mouth, smiling while she chews and swallows it. "You need to lighten up, mo luaidh. Indulge yourself once in a while."
"I made you an omelet yesterday. It overflowed with cheese."
She shakes her head, as if she's sad for me and my lack of indulgence. "That's not decadent enough to count."
"Decadence is my middle name, love."
> Catriona laughs. "You're so sweet when you're trying to convince yourself of what a bastard you are. You're not, so it never works. Does it?"
I glare at my stack of waffles, hack off a triple-decker forkful, and shove it into my mouth. At least chewing gives me an excuse to not speak to or look at her. When did Cat become a firebrand? She never used to question me about anything, and she certainly never talked back to me or made fun of me.
Do I have a caber up my arse these days? If so, I must've contracted the disease from Logan or Rory. If I can figure out what Cat is trying to accomplish, I can devise a plan to thwart her. But she keeps surprising me. The cheerily sarcastic woman lounging on my window seat can't be the same girl who adored me in another lifetime.
That's my mistake. I've been treating her like she is the same girl. The Catriona of today is a mature woman.
And she must be trying to torture me. Somehow. With waffles.
We finish our meal in silence, but I find myself glancing at her often—too often. As the sun rises higher and higher in the sky, it paints her skin with shades of gold and rose, and the colors make her eyes seem brighter, her skin smoother, her smile more angelic. I can't stop looking at her, even while I stuff food into my mouth. She's beautiful and unattainable.
I had her yesterday, but sex isn't the same as…whatever it is she thinks she wants with me.
Once we're done eating, Catriona collects our plates and cups and sets them on the tray. She comes around behind my desk.
"What now?" I ask.
She rotates my chair toward her, then sits on my lap. "You've got a storm cloud inside you, but when the fearthainn ends, the world will be solasta again. Saorsa will be yours, Alex, if you accept it."
"If I knew what on earth you're talking about, I might have a response to that." Her warm bottom on my lap is making me uneasy even while I enjoy the sensation, and her words are the single most beautiful thing I've ever heard. But I have no idea what she said. "Speak English, please."
She leans in, her hair brushing my cheek and her breaths whispering over my lips. "When the rain ends, the world will be shining again, and freedom can be yours."
"Afraid you're wasting your time, Catnip. I'm a lost cause."
"No, you're not." She touches her lips to mine. "I'm going to work on my lesson plans for next week, so I can make a good first impression. We can talk more later."
She hops off my lap and walks out the door.
My phone rings. I answer with the usual greeting.
"You sound off, mate. Having a bad time with your woman?"
The sound of that Australian accent makes me jerk upright in my chair, gripping the phone tighter. "Reginald Hewitt, how did you get my phone number?"
Since I'd changed the number after my last encounter with him, I want to know how he got the new one. Only a handful of people have it, including Logan and Serena. I haven't even given the number to Catriona.
"I called you on my mobile phone," Reginald says, his voice even more gravelly than I remember.
"How did you get a mobile phone?" I demand. He isn't supposed to be allowed to call me. The warden assured me of that.
Reginald sniggers. "You'd be surprised what I can get from the prison black market. Mobiles are easy. Getting out, that's a lot more difficult."
Getting out? No, he can't have escaped. The warden would've called me. I'd made a sizable donation to the prison library to ensure I would be informed of any changes regarding Reginald Hewitt. Naturally, dear old Reggie has wormed his way into the prison crime syndicate and found a means of escape.
"Going home to Australia, are you?" I ask.
He sniggers again. "No, Your Highness, I'm not going anywhere. Not until I've made you suffer for turning me in."
"You betrayed me first, Reggie."
I'm snarling the words, but I can't seem to calm myself. This man conspired with a student at Thensmore to steal three Babylonian tablets and sell them to a collector on the black market. Since I had sort of borrowed the tablets from the university museum, I could've gone to prison for theft too, even though I'd planned to return them. Reginald and Falk Mullane had hoped to make a fortune selling those artifacts on the black market and send me to prison as a bonus. "Borrowing" artifacts might not be strictly legal, but I meant to put them back before anyone knew they'd gone. Am I as bad as Reginald and Falk?
A chill whispers over my skin, lifting all the fine hairs. Am I that bad? Do I deserve to be punished for my sins?
"You needed to be betrayed," Reginald says, "and brought down a peg or two—or five. You think you're so bloody high and mighty, the king of your self-made castle. I put up with you for three years, just waiting for a chance to make my move. Falk Mullane gave me that chance. Now I'm going to force-feed you a taste of your own medicine."
"What did I ever do to you? Paying you a ridiculously large salary for being my fucking butler?" I snort. "You disgust me, Reggie. Go rot in the Australian outback. With any luck, dingoes will devour your useless carcass." I disconnect the call and dial another number. When Warden Bill Drummond answers, I say, "How did Reginald Hewitt escape from your facility? And why wasn't I informed?"
Drummond groans. "I was going to call you, but Hewitt escaped only this morning. A few hours ago. We've barely had time to search the grounds and contact the state police. Believe me, I was going to let you know."
I rub my hand over my eyes and sink back in my chair. "I'm sorry, Warden. I know you would've told me. It's just that I heard from Reginald a few minutes ago, and he made what could be classified as a threat against me."
"The state guys will talk to you, I'm sure. Other than that, there's not a hell of a lot I can do."
"Yes, I understand."
"Soon as I hear anything, I'll let you know."
"Thank you. Goodbye, Warden."
I hang up and toss my phone onto my desk.
A taste of my own medicine. What on earth did Reginald mean by that? He wants to punish me. I know that much for certain. Maybe I should force Catriona to go home to Scotland, where she'll be out of the line of fire.
But it's too late, isn't it? Reginald mentioned my "woman." How does he know about Catriona? He must, given his statement. I need to convince her to leave, but she won't go along with that—unless I tell her everything. A segment of everything, not the whole puzzle. A jigsaw with missing pieces is all I dare let her see.
If I have to, I'll drug Cat and dump her on a jet to Scotland.
Chapter Fourteen
Catriona
I decide to visit my office on campus today, so I'm changing into work-appropriate clothes. Planning my lectures for next week seems like something I ought to do in my office. That's what I intend to do, but I'm only half dressed when Alex storms into the bedroom.
"Ever hear of knocking?" I ask. Though I have on nothing but a bra and knickers, I don't bother trying to cover myself up with a dressing gown. Alex has seen me naked before, so I don't feel the need to bother.
"No time for knocking," he says, sounding as somber as he looks. "There's a problem I need to make you aware of."
"All right."
He seems to have finally noticed my state of partial dress, skimming his gaze over my body. He scrubs a hand over his mouth, blinks rapidly, and focuses on my face. "A man who used to work for me, Reginald Hewitt, has escaped from prison. He may be coming here."
"I gather it's not a friendly reunion."
Alex huffs. "He wants to punish me. For what, I don't know. Being here with me is not the safest choice for you under these circumstances."
I grab my blouse, shrugging into it, and start to button it up. "Is this the same Reginald that Logan mentioned?"
"Yes."
"What did this man do? Why was he in prison?"
"He conspired to aid and abet the theft of priceless artifacts from the Thensmore History Museum. He also embezzled from me."
"That doesn't sound like a reason
to panic." I pull on the skirt I've decided to wear, tuck my blouse into it, and tug the side zipper closed. "I'm sure the authorities can handle the situation."
Alex stalks closer, hunched over slightly, and his voice drops to a deep, dark register. "Reginald is dangerous, more so than even I realized. He has a grudge against me. He also made a veiled threat against you. Please leave, Catriona. Get away from here as fast as you can."
I stare at him for a moment, studying his expression and his eyes and the tension in his body. On the day I left him twelve years ago, he'd been calm and seemingly unaffected. Today, he behaves like a man on the edge of panic.
"Tell me what's going on," I say. "All of it, Alex, please. Serena and Logan said Reginald secretly despised you."
Alex shambles to the bed and drops onto it. "I met Reginald three years ago, not long after Logan did that spot of work for me. I needed a right-hand man, someone to take care of the household and anything else that might require an extra set of hands. Reginald and I got on from the start. I thought we were mates."
I sit down beside Alex, but I don't try to touch him, unsure if he will want that. "What happened?"
"When Logan found Falk Mullane, the sniveling idiot who stole those Babylonian tablets, Falk claimed he'd paid Reginald to be his mole. Reggie told Falk when I sent Logan after him."
Alex almost spits the name Reggie.
"I thought we were mates," he says again. "What a ruddy moron I am, eh? Thinking I'm cleverer than anyone on earth, that no one can fool me. Yet I had that bastard living in my house for three years and never realized he hates me."
"Everyone makes mistakes. It doesn't mean you're a fool."
He grunts, and one side of his mouth slants into a half sneer. "Not realizing the truth when it's right in front of you is the definition of being a fool. I've made too many mistakes to say this was a one-off, but it isn't my worst mistake."
"What is?"
For a moment, I think he might actually tell me. After all, he's just shared a large dose of the truth with me. I know he's not lying about anything he told me in the last few minutes. The look in his eyes proves it to me. Will he confess his worst mistake?
