"Goodbye," I say, about to pull the phone away from my ear and hang up.
"Don't you dare hang up on me, Al—"
"Stop that this instant. I can tell by your tone of voice that you're about to say my full name. You know I hate it, especially the last bit. And that part isn't even accurate anymore."
The daft woman will give away everything one day, since she seems incapable of biting her tongue.
Imogen sighs. "We miss you, Alex. Please let us visit you. We've never been to your home, not any of them. No matter how many times you move, you will never escape from your past. It's time to stop running and settle down."
"Maybe I will. Sometime."
Never in a million lifetimes. I can't stay in one place for too long. It isn't in my nature, and a man can't change his essential nature no matter how hard he tries.
Not that I have tried.
The fact I've lived in this place for five years has no bearing on the issue.
"All right," she says. "But ring us more often. Next time, we'll both get on the phone. Henry's at the hardware store right now, getting advice on how to install a dishwasher."
"Dishwasher? And you're letting him do it? The nutter will electrocute himself for sure."
"Unless you want to come and help him…"
"I can't. Sorry. Goodbye."
And I hang up on her. She is the only woman, the only person, who can make me feel guilty about anything.
Catriona walks through the open door into my office, halting at the desk. She raises her brows, her chin lifted.
Well, maybe one other woman can inspire a twinge of guilt in me.
But only a twinge. Hardly one at all, in fact. A tiny pinch is more like it.
"Yes?" I say, leaning back in my chair, elbows on the arms and hands linked. "Did you want something else? I'd thought a good, hard poke would do you for a while, but if you need another one—"
"A poke? You said that during your lecture too."
"Isn't that the Scottish term for it? You say it all the time. Serena thinks the term poke is the 'cutest word on earth' for sex. Interestingly, she started out thinking it was crude and—"
"Shut up, Alex." Catriona bends over to stare at me, resting her palms on the desktop. "I know why you ran away like a flaming ersehole, and why you're trying to distract me by havering about the term 'have a poke.' You're not fooling me."
"Aren't I? Guess I'll need to try harder."
"Nothing you say is what it's bummed up to be, which is why I'm ignoring three-fourths of the words that come out of your mouth." She leans against the desk, her lovely arse perched on its edge. "I know you've never been afraid of much, but I know two things that terrify you—intimacy and honesty. That's why you ran off."
"I honestly wanted to fuck you, and having my cock inside you is as intimate as it gets."
"Bollocks. Intimacy involves more than sex." She slants toward me, planting a hand on the desk. "Honesty terrifies you most of all, but you can't have real intimacy without it."
"Well then, it's a bloody good thing I don't want that."
She shakes her head, clucking her tongue. "Alex Thorne, you naughty laddie. Every word that comes out of your mouth is a con, a half-truth, or an evasion. But sooner or later, you'll have to be honest. Don't wait too long to do it."
"Or what?" Why have I asked? I don't care.
Cat stretches her hand out to touch my lips with one finger. "You know what's at stake."
She hops off the desk, squares her shoulders, and marches out the door.
What the bloody hell?
I grab my mobile phone and ring Logan's number.
"What do you want, Alex?" he demands. "I was seconds away from convincing my wife to have a poke in the backyard."
Ah yes, the lovely Serena. Logan is one lucky bastard.
"Serena having sex outdoors?" I say. "She really has adapted to being married to you."
"Aye. Now what did you want?"
I scratch my neck, just inside the collar of my shirt. "Your cousin has lost the plot. Please retrieve her immediately and rush her to the best psychiatric clinic in Scotland."
"My cousin?" Logan falls silent for a moment, then chuckles. "Catriona's getting to you, isn't she?"
"She will drive me insane if you don't do something about it."
"Afraid Cat's your problem now. You lured her to your corner of America, so you have to figure out how to deal with her."
"Maybe Evan will help."
Logan chuckles again. "No MacTaggart will interfere. If Catriona wants to torment you, better learn how to handle it. A bit of the old hochmagandy ought to do the trick."
"Hochmagandy? Catriona told me no one says that anymore."
"When did she say that?"
I squirm in my seat, though I have no idea why. Possibly because I don't know which MacTaggart to believe. "She told me that at Aidan's birthday party, when you forced me to dress like a Scottish stripper, so I decided to act like one. When I suggested hochmagandy, she informed me nobody uses that term anymore. Then she threatened to slap me and called me a bleeding ersehole."
Logan laughs rather loudly this time. "You really do bring out the beast in her. Cat's normally the sweetest lass you'll ever meet."
Maybe she used to be that way, back when I knew her as a naive grad student who adored me. Today, she's determined to grab me by the balls and strangle me with them.
"She must've suffered a complete personality reversal," I tell Logan. "The woman is a menace."
To my sanity. To my libido. To everything I've worked so hard to conceal.
"Forget I called," I say. "Next time, I'll ring the psychic advice line."
"Oh, you donnae need to spend money on that. Call Kirsty instead."
"Wonderful. I can get advice from one of your barmy sisters. What is it everyone calls them? The Witches of Ballachulish?"
"Aye, that's right. They might be barmy, but they've got woman's intuition on their side." He pauses. "Maybe I should tell Cat to talk to them. She's the one who needs to crack you open and rummage around in there."
"Sounds lovely. Thank you for the pep talk, Logan. Next time, I'll just ring your cousin Rory and invite him to come thrash me with a caber."
"No, if you're wanting a thrashing, call me. I know how to batter you without breaking any bones."
"Yes, I'm sure you do. Goodbye, Logan."
I disconnect the call and slump in my chair.
Catriona walks into my office, again.
Before my brain has time to process what's happening, she races up to me, bends over, and kisses me. Her lips linger on mine for several seconds, then she pulls away. Her blue eyes hover so close I can see the faint lines of darker color in them.