But a larger thrill, one that sizzles on my skin, overtook me when I realized that any moment I'd be seeing him in action again for the first time in twelve years. I used to be mesmerized whenever he delivered a lesson. I never took one of his courses, but after we became involved, I would sneak into his classroom just to watch him. After class, I'd beg him to take me to a private place, anyplace as long as it was nearby, and make love to me. Sometimes, we went to not-so-private places. But always, experiencing his lectures drove me wild with lust for him.
That will not happen today. I'm older, more mature, and not enthralled by him anymore.
A memory of this morning flares in my mind. Alex naked and gripping a towel in one hand to keep himself covered. Until he dropped the towel.
Stop thinking about that.
I still can't believe he wore the pink kilt. I made it for my brother Rory as a joke, knowing the Steely Solicitor would never wear such a thing, and Rory passed it on to Gavin, my sister Jamie's American husband. Jamie told me she loves seeing Gavin wear silly things, because his audacity and lack of shame make her "as randy as a wild mare in heat."
Honestly, I didn't need to know that about my sister.
I had reclaimed the pink kilt a few months ago when I arrived at the MacTaggart Highland games to find Alex there. Since he was Logan's guest, I couldn't tell my brothers to drag Alex off the property and dump him in the nearest rubbish heap. So instead, I took my revenge by asking Rory to get the pink kilt. If Alex insisted on participating in the games, he needed to dress the part. But why should he have a manly kilt created with the MacTaggart clan tartan? No, he deserved an embarrassing pink one.
But Alex hadn't been embarrassed. He'd worn the kilt proudly.
Seeing him like that, I'd felt…something. I don't know what it was.
When he lost his grip on his caber, and the tree trunk had crashed down on him, pinning him to the ground…
My throat constricts at the memory of that moment. Aye, in my own thoughts I can admit to the truth. I'd been terrified Alex was seriously injured.
Until he ruined the moment by asking if I would be his physical therapist.
Now, he stands at the edge of the stage, lit by a solitary spotlight, once again proudly wearing the pink, glittery kilt. He holds his chin up, surveying his students with a confident smile, his entire demeanor infused with that indefinable essence of Alex, while he continues his lecture.
I clutch my hands to my belly, though not from nausea this time. My tummy flutters like a thousand tiny butterflies swarm inside me. All the hairs on my arms and at my nape tingle and stiffen. I can't deny it. Alex is magnificent. I want to run onto that stage and kiss him, then rip off that kilt and—
No. Oh God, no. I am not still infatuated with Alex Thorne. He's gorgeous and sexy, and I'm not immune to that aspect of his charms. He's also a liar and the most secretive, conniving person I've ever met. I do not like that part of him.
I will never have sex with him. Solving the mystery of Alex, I can do that. But no sex. None.
My body voices its opinion about my "no sex with Alex" decree when he resumes his slideshow by revealing his favorite image, one I've seen before because he loved to show me this bit of ancient erotica—and he even convinced me to try reenacting the image with him. Aye, that had been an interesting night.
The image shows a temple carving of a couple enjoying a poke. The woman is bent over and grasping her ankles while the man takes her from behind. It isn't the most bizarre of the Kama Sutra statuary, but it's always been Alex's favorite. Seeing the image now, I can't stop my mind from conjuring memories of that night with him, the most erotic and intense night we'd ever shared. We re-created more than one Kama Sutra position before we fell asleep in each other's arms.
I let the memories pour through me like warm, spiced rum, intoxicating me with a mental reenactment of everything Alex did to me that night and the incredible pleasure we gave each other.
Suddenly, I realize the students are filing out of the lecture hall. All but a handful of them have left already.
Alex leaps off the stage and saunters up the aisle toward me, passing a group of students who are having an animated conversation. Everyone else has gone, but that one small group lingers halfway down the aisle.
I move out of the dark spot at the back of the hall, standing at the wall beside the doors.
He stops in front of me, his gaze traveling over my body from head to toe and back again, his lips forming a hungry smirk. "Have I told you how much I love those trousers and that blouse? You look good enough to ravish."
And his tone of voice suggests he wants to do exactly that. Right now.
"Your lecture was very good," I say. "I'm impressed."
His smirk slides into a suggestive smile as he moves closer, standing near enough I can smell his spicy aftershave. "But did it make you randy?"
Aye, it has done that. He has done that. He's still doing it.
Why can't I get over this lust for him? I convinced myself I had gotten over it for all those years when I didn't see him. Maybe I've been in denial about how often I made myself come while fantasizing about him. That denial was shattered the first time I laid eyes on him again, at Dùndubhan.
Today, my willpower is strained to the brink of snapping.
Even in a pink kilt, Alex Thorne is the hottest man on earth.
The few students who linger in the hall shuffle past us. One lad, the same boy who heckled Alex about being a princess, pauses to glance at his kilt.
"Whoa, dude," the boy says in a snarky tone, "you've got some cojones wearing a sparkly My Little Pony skirt. My baby sister would love it."
Alex ignores the lad, his gaze still locked on me.
The boy notices me, his focus veering to my breasts. "Who are you? And when can I get it on with you?"
"She is Dr. Catriona MacTaggart," Alex says in a cool tone. "And she doesn't take pity on children who can't get a leg over with the bearded cafeteria woman."
A girl who's standing beside the bod ceann tugs on his sleeve. "Cut it out, Darren. Don't harass the hot professor."
Darren rolls his eyes. "All you girls are so totally hypnotized by this dweeb in a skirt. When do the guys get a hot woman professor to drool over?"
Alex tips his head down, staring hard at the bod ceann. "You're looking at a hot woman professor right now."
He nods toward me.
Darren grins.
"Not that a twat like you has a chance in hell of seducing a woman like her," Alex says. "Move along, boy."
The laddie and his friends exit the hall, snickering and muttering to each other.
And I'm alone with Alex.
He backs me up to the wall, caging me with his hands at either side of my head. "You never answered my question."
"Why should I? Ye donnae answer any of mine."
"Have it your way." He sets a hand on my hip, sliding his fingers inside the waistband of my trousers. "I'll find out the answer for myself."
I know what he's about. I know, and I don't care. His lecture has gotten me randy, not because of the imagery he offered, but because of him. Alex in his full glory, lecturing to an enthralled class, is the single most arousing thing I've ever seen.