Irresistible in a Kilt (Hot Scots Book 8)

by Anna Durand

  The fact I will enjoy seducing him has no bearing on my scheme. It's a bonus, not the reason for my tactic. Bod an Donais, I want that man.

  Alex stays at the museum for the rest of the afternoon. I know this because I go to the museum three times to make sure he's there. The security guard on duty tells me so.

  "Dr. Thorne is holed up in the office," the guard says, "and he said not to let anyone in, not even nosy little Scots." The man winces. "His words, not mine. I'm sorry, Dr. MacTaggart."

  "Call me Catriona, please. And I know it's not your fault Alex is an erse."

  "He's really a nice guy."

  Yes, Alex can charm the trousers off anyone. With women, he charms the knickers off them even when he doesn't mean to or want to do it. That bonnie little freshman is a prime example. Alex could have taken what she offered, had his fun, and never thought about her again. He didn't. And I believe him when he says he's never slept with a student.

  However much he havers about being a bastard, I know the truth. Deep down, underneath all those layers of subterfuge and evasion, lies a good man.

  After work, I wait by his car in the faculty parking lot.

  The impossible man walks up to me, punches the button on his key fob to unlock the car, and says, "I'll be playing Bach today, at the loudest possible volume. You'll want earplugs."

  He hands me an unopened package of foam earplugs.

  I hold up my hand to tell him I don't want them. "I'll be fine. I can handle loud noises." I lay my hand on his chest. "I like making loud noises too. But you know all about that, don't you?"

  He grunts and climbs into the driver's side.

  On the trip home, he doesn't blast classical music. He keeps the radio off, leaving us in silence for the entire ride. I decide not to say anything and give him this time to get used to the idea I won't give up. I want the truth, once and for all, and I will do whatever it takes to get it.

  The second we get inside Alex's house, he announces, "Good night, Catriona. I'll see you in the morning."

  He turns to walk away.

  I grab his arm. "It's seven o'clock, Alex. You're not going to bed, so where are you planning to hide this evening?"

  He smirks a wee bit. "If I tell you, it won't be hiding."

  "Wherever you go, I'll find you."

  A strange expression flickers over his face, something reminiscent of…regret.

  "Good night," he says again, and he heads upstairs.

  "You have to eat, Alex."

  He waves a hand in a dismissive manner without glancing back at me.

  I want to growl and snarl at him, but I don't. He wants to annoy, confuse, and hurt me so I might go away and let him wallow in whatever he's trying to wallow in. Guilt? Fear? Self-loathing? Maybe it's all three, and more.

  Making dinner for both of us distracts me for a while, though my mind keeps working on the Alex problem in the background of my thoughts. I've made a meal for two. Alex is going to eat, even if I have to stand there holding a sgian-dubh to his throat to make him do it. Only a dagger might make an impression on him.

  Half an hour after he dismissed me, I knock on his bedroom door.

  No response.

  I try the knob. It's unlocked, so I swing the door open.

  The room is empty. I check the attached bathroom, but he's not there either. I hurry down the hall, checking every bedroom including mine, but I can't find Alex. Downstairs, I search room by room, beginning with his study. No Alex in the study. Or in the living room. Or in the room that looks sort of like a solarium. It has many large windows that must let the sun pour in during the day, but right now it's dark.

  When I reach the door at the end of the long hallway, I twist the knob. It's locked.

  Eureka. The Sassenach has been found.

  I knock lightly. "Alex? Are you in there?"

  Silence follows.

  "Come on, Alex, I made you dinner. You need to eat, or you'll never have the energy to keep running away from me."

  Footsteps. Coming closer.

  The door pivots inward.

  Alex stands there, his clothes in disarray and his hair mussed. It looks like he's been shoving his fingers into that hair and whisking them around like, well, a whisk. His shirt is untucked and rumpled as well as half unbuttoned. He's also gripping the doorknob tightly.

  "What do you want?" he asks, his voice rough.

  "To feed you." I grasp his hand, prying it away from the knob. "Donnae be an ogre about it. I've made you a good meal. Please come and eat it."

  He stares down at our hands.

  I rub my thumb in circles on his skin.

  Alex swallows visibly, then lets out a sigh that deflates his shoulders.

  He nods once.

  I lead him into the kitchen, and I let him get away with sitting on the opposite side of the island from me. He looks exhausted. After we eat, he'll feel better. I hope. Interrogating him when he's in a weakened condition won't help anything.

  "Sorry there's no dessert," I say when we're both done eating. "Didnae want to spend time making something when I knew you were somewhere starving."

  "Not starving." He pushes his empty plate toward the island's center. "I was resting."

  "You do look tired, more than when we first got home."

  "Home?" He squints at me. "Why are you referring to my house as 'home'? You are a guest."

  Alex is right. I called this gloomy house "home." Why did I do that? I could dismiss it as a common way of referring to a house, but deep down, I know there's more to it. So I tell Alex the truth.

  "I called it home," I say, "because being with you feels like it did when we used to live together. It feels comfortable and…right."

  He stares at me without expression, for so long that my pulse accelerates while I wonder if I've said too much. Will he run away again? Will he get angry and toss me out the door?

  Alex does neither of those. He bows his head, resting his arms on the island. "You think you want the truth, but trust me, you don't. If you leave tonight, at least you can hold on to your fantasy that I'm a decent man somewhere deep inside. If you stay, if you keep trying to get the truth out of me, you will regret it."

  The words don't strike me as a threat. Given his fear this morning, I think he's terrified I won't like what I see when he finally shows me everything.

  I stretch my arms out to close my hands around his. "Don't worry, Alex. I won't leave you."

  He studies my hands, where they lie atop his. His brows draw together, and he swallows again, so hard I can see it.

  Then he gets up and walks out the door.

  I'll give him tonight to get used to the idea I'm not leaving him and he can't get rid of me. But tomorrow…

  Get ready, Alex, I'm coming for you.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alex

  I hide in my bedroom. Yes, I'm hiding from a woman. Catriona wants to fuck me until I lose my mind and spill my guts again like I did this morning, but this time she'll get every last bit of them. If she tries to seduce me, I know she'll succeed. My guts will be all over the Persian rug that surrounds my bed.

  No, I have willpower. She's not so sexy that I can't say no to her. Cat isn't the sort who will go to any lengths to have her way.

  The old Cat wasn't. The new Cat… Christ, I might be in trouble.

  I've just finished undressing when someone knocks on the door. Someone? I know bloody well who it is and what she's after—my intestines, all over the rug. Either she'll murder me, or I'll tell her everything. I'm still debating which of those options is the least dangerous when I open the door.

  Catriona stands there wearing nothing but her underwear. Her knickers are made of lace, which lets her skin and pubic hair show through the flimsy fabric. Her bra is lace too, and her stiff nipples push against the cups. That bra is also strapless, giving me a fantastic view of her creamy shoulders.

  "What do you want?" I ask, trying
to snarl but managing only to sound like I have a scratchy throat.

  She sweeps her gaze over me from head to toe. "Do you still sleep in the nude?"

  "Yes." That should be obvious since I'm naked. "Now that I've answered your question, leave me alone."

  I move to shut the door, but she thrusts out a hand to stop me. "Not yet. I need your help."

  The tone of her voice, sultry and soft, awakens the hungry beast in me. She really has no idea what effect she has on me when she talks that way. If she knew, she wouldn't tempt me like this.

  "Help with what?" I ask.

  She turns around, looking at me over her shoulder while she bends an arm behind her to point at her bra. "I cannae get this unhooked. Would you mind?"

  Catriona wants me to remove her bra.

  Do I seem stupid enough to fall for this ploy? She seems to think I am, or maybe she knows full well I realize what she's about when she asks me to unhook those tiny clasps for her. Either way, I'm in no condition to play these games. I still don't feel quite like myself again after this morning's ridiculous confessions.

  I sprint into the bathroom and grab a pair of hair-trimming shears. When I return to her, I offer up the scissors. "Cut your way out of it, darling. I'm sure you can manage that on your own."

  The condescension dripping from my words has no effect on her.

  Cat smiles at me over her shoulder. "You wouldn't want me to hurt myself, would you? I can barely reach back there."

  Dammit, she's right. She really could injure herself trying to cut the bra off. I also realize she knows how to unhook her own bra. I've seen how she does it when she's having trouble with the task.

  "If you don't want the scissors," I say, "then slide the bra around until you can unhook it in front."

  There. That should end the discussion.

  Until she speaks again, in that sexy voice. "Tried that already. It won't slide. Please, Alex, I need you."

  I'm not sure whether to believe a word she's saying, but the only way to get rid of her is to do what she wants. I don't have to do it the way she clearly wants me to do it, though. With my fingers. On her skin.

  "Have it your way," I tell her.

  Then I slip the scissors under her bra and cut it free.

  Before I can congratulate myself on sidestepping the problem, she raises her arms, letting the bra fall to the floor. Cat turns around to face me, now naked except for her flimsy lace knickers.

  The blasted woman shimmies out of those too.

  We're both naked. In my bedroom. Close enough to the bed that I could toss her onto it.

  I've seen her nude body before, but this time feels different. I can't stop myself from admiring every inch of her, from those perfect lips to her flat stomach and the curly hairs between her thighs that I know will be silky if I run my fingers through them. Her breasts may not be quite as perky as they were a decade ago, but they still make my mouth water. I want to consume her in every way imaginable. No other woman has ever stoked my lust the way Catriona does, or made me feel the uncomfortable things she always forces me to experience.

  Right now, all I can think about is tossing her onto the bed and making love to her until we're both too weak to do it anymore.

  She comes closer and splays her palms on my chest. "Why are you fighting this, Alex? You want me, and I want you. The only reason I can see for you to keep saying no is because you're afraid you might show me the real you again."

  "No one sees the real me."

  "I do." She skates her palms up to my throat. "You don't scare me. I want to know all of you, every little thing you think you need to hide. Show it all to me, Alex. I'm ready."

  She has no idea what she's asking me to do. The truth about me will either send her scurrying back to Scotland on the next flight out or corrupt her in ways she can't even imagine.

  My cock is ready to give her what she wants, but my brain knows what I have to do.

  I pick her up, carry her to the bedroom where she's taken up residence, and dump her on the bed. "Good night, Catriona."

  On my way out, I slam the door. Both doors. The one to her room and the one to mine. The bangs echo through the house.

  Nighttime is not my friend. I can't sleep and wind up doing the most clichéd thing in the world—tossing and turning, so much that I get the sheets tangled around my legs. When I finally fall asleep, I dream of Cat. Naked. Purring that she wants me.

  When I wake in the morning, it takes me five minutes to untangle myself from the sheets. I need another ten minutes to relieve my lust in the shower. Maybe I should just shag Cat again and get it over with, instead of torturing myself this way.

  But that's what she wants. The woman has a plan, and though I don't know what it is, I'm sure it's more nefarious than any plot I've ever devised. I had no idea how devious she can be until she moved into my house. Yes, I'd brought this on myself, hadn't I?

  You think you're so bloody clever, don't you? Catriona is laughing at you now.

  No, she wouldn't laugh at me. She might smile and tease and torment me with her body, but she won't ridicule me. I wish she would. Her derision might make it easier for me to get rid of her.

  Why haven't I done that already? I can kick her out of my house anytime. Change the locks. Hide inside until she gives up.

  Bloody hell. What kind of spineless moron have I become?

  If I could punch myself, I would. Only a violent shock seems likely to snap me out of this bizarre condition Cat has inflicted on me.

  When I head downstairs, I don't see her anywhere. Maybe she's still in her room. I sigh with relief, literally, and decide I'll eat breakfast on campus. That will show Catriona how much I don't want to live with her.

  I walk out of the kitchen.

  And Catriona stumbles into me.

  "Oh!" she gasps. "Alex, you gave me a fright."

  "If you move out of my house, I won't be able to frighten you ever again."

  Her body is millimeters away from mine, and she smells so good I want to inhale a deep breath of that scent. I don't, because that would be ridiculous.

  "No, you don't want me to go," she says with a teasing smile. "You wanted me here, and now you have me. I'm not leaving until I get what I want."

  "I won't have sex with you again."

  "That's not what I want the most." She presses her soft, warm body against me. "The truth will set you free."

  My chuckle has a dark edge to it. "That's bollocks. The truth locks you up even more securely. Steel bars, no windows, no hope of escape." I catch her wrists and pin them behind her back. "Would you want to live with me then? Inside a dark, impenetrable cell?"

  "You won't know unless you trust me and tell the truth."

  I hold on to her wrists with one hand, lifting the other to grasp her face. "Careful what you wish for. Hasn't anyone told you it might backfire?"

  "You're trying to scare me, but it won't work." She turns her face into my hand and licks my palm with slow, sensuous strokes of her hot tongue. "Ahmno a naive lass anymore. Ahm stronger than ye think, and more stubborn too."

  "My dark side is much blacker than you think."

  "Not scaring me off, Alex." She draws my thumb into her mouth and sucks on it. "There's only one way I can make you crack, and I plan to exploit that method until I get what I want."

  I have no capacity to think, not with every iota of blood flooding into my groin. Suddenly, I'm having trouble breathing, like there's a massive weight strapped to my chest.

  "Just to be clear," she says, suckling my thumb again, "the way I'll break you is with sex."

  She knows my weaknesses. She understands me more than anyone else on earth, but she has no idea what darkness lurks deep inside me. I can't let her do this. If I crumble for her, if she digs out every last one of my secrets, it will destroy us both.

  But I want her. With Cat's body plastered to mine, with the heat of her penetrating me and the scent of her de
sire tormenting me, I have no willpower at all.

  I shove my hand into her hair and drag her closer, taking her mouth in a brutal kiss. I consume her like she's the only sustenance in the entire world, the only thing that can save me from starvation. Every time I plow my tongue into her mouth, she responds with the same raw hunger, consuming me the way I'm doing to her, not at all like the sweet, innocent girl I'd known years ago. The Catriona of today rubs her body against mine in a blatant expression of lust and throws her arms around my neck, plunging her fingers into my hair and refusing to let me pull away. I don't want to pull away. She tastes like sin and heaven, sex and innocence, like everything I've ever wanted but that I can never have.

  She severs the kiss, though she keeps her body crushed to mine. With a wicked little smile, she slides her tongue across her kiss-swollen lips. "Mm, you taste better than ever today."

  I try to speak, but nothing comes out of my mouth.

  Catriona wriggles free of me, turns away, and sashays down the hall toward the main doors. Over her shoulder, she calls, "Are you coming? I want to have breakfast at a restaurant today."

  "Sorry," I say. Though I've finally regained my voice, my brain hasn't caught up to it yet. "Can't do that. I have, ah…things to do. Alone."

  Cat wags a finger at me. "No, Alex, that won't work. I'm driving, which means you have no choice in the matter."

  "You are not driving my car."

  She reaches into the pocket of her trousers and produces a set of keys, jingling them at me.

  My keys. The woman stole them? Cat doesn't do things like that.

  "You're commandeering my car?" I ask. "Do you even know how to drive on the right side of the road?"

  Her laughter tickles my senses. "Of course I do. I have American sisters-in-law and an American brother-in-law." She skips up to me—I swear she actually skips—and dangles the keys in front of my face. "Besides, I lived in America before. Have you forgotten?"

  Not likely. How could I forget living with her for almost two years? I have no idea why I suggested she doesn't know how to drive the American way.