Movement catches my attention, and I glance at the doorway.
Alex stands there, his expression unreadable, and slides his tongue over his lips like he's staring at the most decadent dessert on earth.
He's looking at me.
"If you're sure," Lachlan says, "then I'll hold off on flying to America. For now."
"Thank you."
Alex stalks up to my desk, plucks the phone from my hand, and smacks it down into its cradle.
"What do you think you're doing?" I ask, flashing him a scowl. "I was talking to my brother."
He throws an arm around my waist and hauls me into him. I don't get a chance to speak. Alex grasps the back of my head, tips it backward, and crushes his mouth to mine. I stay stiff and unresponsive for a few seconds, while he holds his lips to mine with firm pressure, his arm pinning me to his strong body and his hand ensuring I can't jerk my head away.
Not that I want to. I should. But I don't want to, and I can't move.
"Mm," I moan, as a breath rushes out of me. My every muscle softens, my body warms from the top of my head all the way down to my toes, and a silky, liquid heat blossoms between my thighs. I clutch his shirt, pulling myself closer to him, and open my mouth. He plunges his tongue inside, but instead of devouring me like a ravenous beast, he explores my mouth with slow, sensual strokes, like we have all the time in the world to enjoy each other. I moan again and tug him even closer, my fingers clenched in his shirt so tight they start to ache, but I don't care.
The phone rings, though the sound barely penetrates the haze of desire swirling around me, inside me, blocking out everything else. I don't hear the ringing anymore. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter now. Alex wraps his arms around me, widens his stance, and draws me even closer. My legs are between his, and his erection forms a steel bar against my belly. I want him to take me right here, right now, on my desk with the door open. I want it like I've never wanted anything before. I need it. I need him—inside me, thrusting while he consumes my mouth.
A sensation, hot and sweet and intoxicating, shimmers through me.
He moves away, separating our bodies. Breathing hard, he runs a hand over his jaw.
"What was that?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
"A kiss." He almost growls the words. "What did you think it was? A bloody handshake?"
I can see how aroused he is, thanks to the bulge in his trousers, and I remember how unquenched lust always used to make him testy. And it still does.
"No," I say, "I didn't think that. I meant why did you kiss me like that? And you made me hang up on my brother, which is not polite. Ye cannae walk into my office and kiss me like that without saying a word."
"Why not? I don't recall hearing you tell me to stop."
His voice still sounds rough and edgy.
Maybe I shouldn't chastise him right now. Besides, I loved that kiss.
Alex lets out a long breath, seeming to shed his edgy mood along with the air in his lungs. He gives me that look of amused indifference. "Well, I've got that out of my system. Cheers, Catriona."
He walks out of the room.
If I were American, I'd probably be offended by the way he said "cheers," since my American sisters-in-law didn't understand that one the first time they'd heard Alex say it. But to a Brit, "cheers" is like saying goodbye. I still don't like that he dismissed me that way, and dismissed that kiss, but I no longer believe his offhanded ways.
Oh no, Alex Thorne, you won't get away with that anymore.
Chapter Nine
Alex
I head to the lecture hall at ten to two since I don't like being late. Early is better. It gives me a chance to observe my students and judge their state of mind before I begin my lecture. I'm not a psychologist, but I can tell from the students' expressions and the way they talk whether they'll behave while I speak.
Gus Hooper has given me the big room, the one that's also used by the drama classes. He knows I draw a crowd. More students sign up for my courses than for any other class in the humanities department. Even the acting seminars don't attract an audience as big as mine.
Yes, I'm bloody proud of that fact.
Though I enter the venue, I'm hiding behind the curtains that block off the rear of the stage. They hide the equipment and backdrops used by the theater classes. I enjoy peering through the small gap between the halves of the curtains, observing my students as they begin to trickle into the hall.
All right, I'm also watching for Catriona.
Five minutes after I arrive, I see her.
Students brush past Cat while she hesitates just inside the double doors that lead into the hall.
This lecture space is enormous, with row after row of seats broken into three sections by two aisles. The floor slopes downward in a gentle grade toward the stage, where a lectern awaits the lecturer—which would be me.
Cat used to love sitting in on my classes. And I loved seeing her face in the crowd. Her smiling, attentive face. It had always made me feel…I don't know. Like I'd discovered a previously unknown civilization and cracked the code of its never-before-seen language.
While the students take seats as close to the stage as possible, swiftly filling in the rows, Cat slinks into the shadowed area behind the last row at the back of the hall. Maybe she hopes I won't notice her. No chance of that. Though she loiters in the shadows, I can still see her silhouette. Knowing she's watching me gives me a strange sensation, like I've gulped down half a bottle of vodka.
Catriona MacTaggart has always intoxicated me.
But not in front of my students.
I step back, so I can't see between the curtains anymore. But I know she's out there. Well, I did change my lecture for today because I wanted her to hear it. And see it. And…hear and see me.
None of that means anything. I like the idea of shocking Cat, that's all. She's doing her best to turn my world upside-down, so I'm responding in kind.
This morning, when she'd come to my bedroom and I'd dropped that towel, her expression and body language had evidenced the truth. She wants me, and I want to have her one more time before I send her back to Scotland. End of story.
When all the students have taken their seats and filled up the hall, my teaching assistant, Todd, trots onto the stage and announces, "Dr. Thorne will be here in a few minutes. He has a special surprise for all of you today."
Do I ever. Are you ready for this, Cat? All the dirty things I used to whisper in her ear may pale in comparison to what I'm about to do. I've given a version of this lecture before, but I spent the last hour giving it a little extra spice.
Maybe more than a little.
If I get arrested or fired or both, it will be worth it to see the look on Cat's face.
Todd hurries off the stage.
All the lights go out, and for a moment, everyone—including me—waits in the dark. Then a single spotlight flares on, aimed at the lectern.
Everyone stops talking. The silence seems as deep as an abyssal plain at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.