Logan called her "the sweetest lass you'll ever meet," and I remember when she was that way. Her sweet smile. Her shyness. The way she blushed whenever I brushed hair away from her face or told her how beautiful and sexy she is. She's always been strong and known her own mind, but never before has Cat been so hostile.
Which is my fault.
The version of her staring at me from millimeters away doesn't seem likely to blush or smile shyly.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"You and I had sex, but you still haven't kissed me."
"I did that last night. And this morning."
She shakes her head slowly. "Not kissing me before we have sex is unacceptable."
Maybe I had ravished her body without bothering to kiss her first. Maybe she's right to call me a Limey Louse.
"I'd love to kiss you, Cat. But I'm too knackered."
She straightens and lays a hand on my cheek. "I know the old Alex is in there somewhere, and I'm going to dig him out no matter what it takes."
"You'll only get yourself dirty doing that, and you'll regret it later."
"I'm stronger than you think."
She heads for the door.
An inexplicable impulse seizes me, propelling me to leap out of my chair and hurry to catch her before she walks out the door. I grasp her arms and drag her into me for a kiss of total possession and raw need, spurred by something deep inside me that needs to prove her wrong. I wrap my arms around her waist, delving my tongue deep into her warm, slick mouth, powerless to fight my desire for her any longer. She tastes like everything sweet and good and pure in the world, like things I can never do more than sample for a brief moment.
She holds still at first, stiff and unyielding. Then her body wilts against me, and she responds to every lash of my tongue with a ravenous need that matches my own. We devour each other like we'll starve if we stop kissing, like the entire world might wither away and crumble to dust without our mouths fused.
Her arms come around my neck, and her fingers dive into my hair. She moans softly.
I stop kissing her but can't quite make myself let go of her body. "Was that better?"
"Aye," she says, sounding a bit breathless. "Much better." She gazes into my eyes with a look of wonder, like she's at last discovered my soul in them. "I know you're in there, Alex. It might take a long time to unearth you, but I won't give up until I do."
Catriona hurries out the door, leaving me alone in my office.
Unearth me? I don't like the sound of that. Having her here, in my town and in my home, seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. Now that I've gotten her here, I'm beginning to think I've made a catastrophic mistake. I can't command her to resign from the job I arranged for her, days before she's set to start. She won't do it even if I do command her to. I need to distance myself from her, though, as soon as possible.
If I don't, my past will come crashing down on us both.
Chapter Twelve
Catriona
Alex doesn't speak to me for the rest of the day, or on the drive back to his home. The giant house really does hunker in the woods like a cursed castle haunted by demons and evil spirits. Alex is nothing like that, so I can't understand why he wants to live in this place. I asked him that last night, but he avoided answering. Now I ask him that question again as we're walking through the front doors.
He's just shut the door and pauses with his hand still on the knob. "What?"
"I said why do you live here all alone in this depressingly dark house?"
"Because it suits me."
"No, it doesn't." I remember what Logan and Serena told me and ask, "What happened to your servants?"
"What makes you think I had any?"
I turn toward him, determined to see his face when he tries to not answer another question. "Logan and Serena told me. They also said that a few days later, when they came to your house again, the servants were gone. What happened?"
"Don't you want to tell me the term servants is hopelessly outdated and offensive?"
"Maybe it is, but that's irrelevant. I want to know why you got rid of them. Or did they quit?"
He strides across the foyer while he tells me, "I let them go. They were no longer needed."
I follow him into the main hallway. "Why weren't they needed?"
Alex freezes at the bottom of the staircase but doesn't glance back at me. "That is none of your concern."
"You can't keep sidestepping my questions forever. Eventually, you will have to tell me the truth."
He peeks at me over his shoulder, his lips ticking up at the corners. "You know how I am with the truth. I'm allergic to it."
"Your bum's oot the windae, Alex."
"No, it's quite firmly inside the house." He pats his erse. "See? Still attached and nowhere near a window."
"You know that phrase means you're talking nonsense. I used to say that to you a lot, since you frequently spout nonsense."
"I remember the phrase." He starts to walk up the steps. "Good night, Catriona."
"Aren't you eating dinner?"
"Not hungry."
I shake my head. "Oot the windae again, Alex. Avoiding me won't stop me from wanting answers."
He's halfway up the stairs now, seeming to ignore what I said.
So I try a trick I learned from my sister-in-law Emery and put two fingers in my mouth to whistle. It's so loud and piercing that I wince, and Alex pauses in his flight up the stairs. He doesn't look back, though, not even when he speaks.
"Give it a rest, Cat. You can harangue me more tomorrow."
I decide to do what he asks, this time. I want answers from him. I want the truth from him, about him, but I don't know how to make him cooperate. Maybe in the morning he'll feel more like talking.
Unlikely.
Since there's nothing else I can do tonight, I say, "All right. See you in the morning."
"Make yourself at home and eat whatever you like from the kitchen."
He reaches the second floor and disappears down the hall.
I make myself a light dinner and go to bed, but I can't sleep. I'm lying in Alex's house, in a bed he bought, covered by sheets he chose. Did he make this room for me? The other bedrooms aren't as dark as the rest of the house, but they lack the light and hope conveyed by everything in this room. Maybe I'm ascribing more meaning to the decor than I should. Maybe I want him to have made this room for me, hoping one day we would find each other again.
Aye, maybe I'm a damn eejit. Only an idiot would hope for the man who betrayed her to still love her.
Though I fall asleep sometime after two a.m., I dream of Alex. The old Alex. I remember the good times and the way he used to be, more open and sweet, and the way he used to make me laugh. In my dreams, I don't get arrested because Alex never betrays me.