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"You're studying archaeology, correct?"
"Aye. I told you that in your office earlier."
"Did you? My brain is a bit muddled, apparently." Because she's so beautiful that I can't think.
Catriona laughs, the sound so delicate and sweet that I want to kiss her. "I asked you for advice."
"Oh. Well, I assumed you picked me at random because we met on that park bench."
"I chose you because—" She bites her lip. "Because you seemed so nice, and you were reading an archaeology textbook."
"Ah, I see." At least now I understand her reasons for insisting on getting to know me. Yes, I can be mates with Catriona MacTaggart. That won't result in a catastrophe.
Probably not.
I listen while Catriona tells me more about her siblings and cousins, and she grows more animated with every passing moment. Her smile is bright, her eyes sparkle, and her voice entrances me. Have I ever been as cheerful as she is? Of course I haven't. I am not the sort who gets a happily ever after ending. My story will conclude in a far darker manner. But the lovely lass beside me never needs to know who I really am or why I'm hiding in America, much less what I've done.
Neither of us order oysters, though we do both choose seafood entrées. Considering everything she shared with me, I feel uneasy about not telling her anything about myself. But I stay away from the issues of family and my background, instead relating humorous stories from my adventures as a PhD candidate and an associate professor. She loves the tale of the only time I participated in a field expedition and wound up falling into a river while trying to rescue what I thought was an artifact. It turned out to be a plastic hair clip.
"At least you didn't drown," Catriona says. "That would've been a right shame."
"Would it? I am an arse of the first order, so perhaps I deserved to drown."
Her smile disintegrates. "Why do you call yourself an arse of the first order?"
Oh, bollocks. I've committed the one error I never make. I let my guard down. "It was a joke, darling, that's all."
Her lips curl up at the corners, dimpling her cheeks. "I like that."
"What? That my jokes are bloody awful?"
"No. That you called me darling."
I can't come up with even one syllable in response. Maybe I call my anonymous lovers that, but I don't mean it in a romantic way. How did I mean it when I referred to Catriona that way? I have no fucking idea. "I'm glad you liked it, but I call every woman 'darling.' It's a British thing."
"Hmm." She eyes me with the most adorably fake expression of disapproval. "I donnae think I believe you, Alex. You're full of rubbish, aren't you?"
"Often and unrepentantly. You'd be better off finding someone else to take as your friend."
"No, I'm happy with you." She spears her fork into the last bite of her fish. "I like being with you. Haven't laughed this much in a long time."
"Neither have I." Maybe I've never enjoyed myself this much before. The thought is…unsettling. "I should take you home. It's getting late, and we both have classes in the morning."
I pay the bill, and we make our way out of the dining room into the entryway with its twilight ambiance. Catriona needs to use the ladies room, so I wait for her in a secluded space, leaning against the wall while I wonder what has happened to me. Dating a grad student? Dating, full stop? I never do that. Can't risk it. But since the moment I first saw Catriona, I've had no willpower to stay away from her.
She emerges from the loo and slips her hand into mine, smiling with what seems for all the world like affection.
I can't make myself shake her hand off. I push away from the wall, meaning to walk out the door, but then I stop and turn toward her. She is so bloody beautiful, and a need to taste her lips just once before I cut her out of my life grips me so hard that I can't breathe.
"What's wrong, Alex?" she asks.
The words she spoke barely penetrate my brain, and I can't stop myself. I back her up to the wall, cover her body with mine, and lift her hands to press them to the wall at either side of her shoulders. Her eyes flare wide, then drift half-closed. The sensual curve of her lips shatters my self-control. I crush my mouth to hers and plunge my tongue between her lips, diving deep to devour the flavor of her. Her breathy moan makes my cock jerk, and the feel of her breasts mounded against my chest makes me groan. I rock my hips to rub my growing erection into her belly even while I consume her mouth as if she is the only nourishment that can sustain me.
When I finally relinquish her lips, I can do nothing except stare at her.
She stares right back at me, but then her mouth curls into a sexy smile.
"Catriona, I—" What can I say? I'd meant to go out to my car and drop her off at her apartment, not molest the woman in the restaurant entryway. "I'm sorry."
