Chapter Eighteen

Catriona

Alex got flustered. Who knew that could happen? I'd never seen him that way before, and I have to admit I like it. Anything that knocks him off his axis has to be a good thing. I get bloody sick of his "maybe" this and "what if" that. I want him to tell me one true thing, without equivocation, before this day ends.

He wants to have breakfast at a fast-food restaurant via the drive-through. I nix that idea the instant he suggests it. Of course, he tries to change my mind. First, he uses his considerable charm in an attempt to sweet-talk me into agreeing to his idea. I pat his cheek and call him "an adorable lad," which makes him grimace. He switches to explaining that we can both get to work faster if we use the drive-through and eat in the car. I tell him that won't work for me, since I plan to order something decadent that drips with syrup and butter, and those sorts of foods require both hands and silverware.

Alex clenches his teeth.

His last-ditch attempt proves to be the hardest to resist. He slides a hand along my inner thigh, brushing the heel against my groin, and speaks in the deepest, sexiest voice imaginable. The devil himself couldn't sound hotter than Alex Thorne does when he tells me, "If we avail ourselves of the drive-through, I'll feed you every luscious bite of whatever you order. By the time I'm done, you'll beg me to fuck you in this car. While you're driving."

"Ye cannae fuck me while I'm driving. It's physically impossible."

I sound breathless and lustful, which doesn't help me resist him. Oh, he knows every little way to tease me and tempt me and make me give in to his demands. This time, I won't do it. I'm on a mission, and giving him what he wants does not suit my plans.

"Come on," he purrs in that silky, sexy, panty-melting voice, which only sounds better and more enticing because he's British. "You want it as much as I do."

Bod an Donais. I've never thought the British accent was arousing—never except with Alex. American women apparently love any Brit's voice, but I love only his.

He knows that. And he's using it against me, the bastard.

I have only one option to stop myself from giving in. I veer into the parking lot of an IHOP and shut off the engine. "We're eating here, Alex. At a restaurant. With other people all around us."

"But that's not what you really want."

"You expect me to deny that." I shove the door open and swing my feet down onto the asphalt. "Of course I want you. But that doesn't mean I'll give in every time you speak to me in your silky sex voice."

"My what?" He chuckles. "I have a sex voice, do I? You never mentioned that before. And it's a silky one too." He smirks. "Have you just shown me your Achilles heel? You know I'll have to exploit it at every opportunity." He leans toward me. "And I'll do it with my silky sex voice."

He speaks those words in that very voice.

I want to smack him, but I know that will only make him smugger, so I stick my tongue out at him instead.

And he chuckles.

"Breakfast, Alex. We will eat breakfast and go to work." I jump up, almost hitting my head on the car's roof, and duck down to aim a hard stare at him. "No matter how sexy your voice and your body are, I am not having a poke with you until I decide it's time."

I slam the door.

We have our breakfast, and he watches me with an amused expression while I consume the French toast, crepes, waffles, and pancakes I ordered. Not to mention the bacon and sausage. And the large glass of milk. Two large glasses, since I need a refill to finish off my breakfast. I don't actually eat all the food, so I get the rest of it to go.

Alex has no right to feel so smugly entertained by my eating habits. He ordered an enormous omelet with pancakes on the side, and after he finished that, he ordered buttermilk biscuits and gravy. I think he wound up eating more than I did, since he didn't have any leftovers to take home.

I let him drive the rest of the way to the campus, despite the way he'd chuckled when I dribbled syrup on my blouse. He'd laughed even more when I'd daubed water onto the fabric and sucked on it to get the syrup out.

As soon as he pulls into his assigned parking spot in the faculty lot, I jump out of the car and hurry away.

I swear I hear Alex chuckling again.

Oh aye, he knows every way to drive me insane—with lust, with annoyance, with complete frustration. I need a little time away from him to gather my wits and come up with a plan to drive him insane, so he'll finally confess his secrets to me.

After two hours of devising lesson plans, I've had enough. I walk to Alex's office, but his TA tells me Alex is at the museum. Aye, the man is hiding behind locked doors in a secure area he knows I don't have access to, that's how afraid he is of me. I take that as a good sign and do my job for the rest of the day.

I do occasionally call his office to check if he's there. He isn't. The man is still hiding. He even told his TA to handle the one class he has scheduled this afternoon, claiming he has urgent business to handle at the museum. Your bum's oot the windae again, Alex.

He also sends a car for me, to take me home. Alex Thorne, the best liar in the world who never flinches from a confrontation, is so frightened of me that he hired a car and a driver to take me back to Moirai House.

When I get there, his car is already parked in the driveway. I give my driver a tip and then hurry into the house to search for Alex. I don't see him, but I know where he's hiding this time. The door to his study is closed, and light creeps out underneath it.

I skulk up to the door, gently resting my ear on it. I hear nothing except the ticking of the clock that hangs on the wall in there.

"Alex," I say, knocking on the door, "I'm home. I'll make dinner, and I expect you to join me. Avoiding your roommate is rude, and it won't stop me. I'll hound you until your dying day, so you might as well come out and eat something."

The only response I receive is the ticking of the clock.

I get down on my hands and knees to peer under the door.

Ah-ha. I can see his feet under the desk.

Now that I have proof he's in there, I clamber to my feet and knock again. "Ye cannae hide forever, Alex. If you don't open this door in the next thirty seconds, I will come in there anyway."

A noise that might be a grunt is all the response I get.

"You are acting like a bairn, Alex."

The distinctive sound of papers rustling tells me he's doing something. Will he open the door? Or is he trying to distract himself by pretending to read papers on his desk? I count the seconds in my head.

When I've reached thirty, Alex still hasn't emerged.

"Have it your way," I say. "Donnae say I didn't warn you."

I rush upstairs to get my tools and change clothes.