Forbidden (11 page)

With a wince, Kat rubbed her legs together, trying to soothe the stinging spot on her right shin.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said, his British accent smooth as music. Just like Tristan’s.
Damn
, she had to stop thinking about him or she’d go crazy.

“I’m having a celebration in two weeks for the end of exams. Magdalene College students only. If you’re interested, here’s the address.” He slid two silver cards along their reading table with a finger.

“We’re not really the party—” Kat began but was cut off when a sharp elbow jabbed her ribs. She coughed violently.

“Thank you. We’ll be there.” Lacy smiled up at the man. “What’s your name?”

“Carter Martin.” The man smiled, his expression filled with promise as he winked and turned away.

“Lacy, what the hell? I’m not going to that party.” Kat kept one palm flat on her side where her ribs ached from Lacy’s elbow.

With a delicate flourish, Lacy held up the silver card. “Did you see the address? The party’s at one of those expensive houses on the hill. Beautiful and built with old money. You’ll love it. Trust me, we can go for half an hour, then leave if you want.”

Kat glanced at the silver card. The date was a week from Friday. Final exams would be over. Nibbling her lip, she debated. What could it hurt? She loved older houses, especially around Cambridge.

“Fine. But if it’s not fun, I’m leaving.”

“Deal.” Lacy claimed the second silver card for herself. “This will be fun.”

T
ristan hummed as he walked to Kat’s dorm. It was eight o’clock, and she’d be expecting him for dinner.

Tonight…he was going to take everything further, show Kat she could trust him enough to sleep with him, because he couldn’t last another night in bed beside her without making love to her. He’d spent the entire day thinking about her, about how they’d spent the night, how it had felt to hold her and talk about things he’d never shared with anyone. He wanted more of that, more of Kat.

When he reached her room he knocked, grinning. There was a lightness and a fluttering excitement inside him. It had been years since chasing a woman had been this invigorating. She played with him, teased him back, made him enjoy this courtship dance.

Kat didn’t come to the door. Frowning, he pounded on the wood again with a balled fist.

Still silence.

“Kat? It’s me. I have dinner,” he called out. She had to hear him. He smacked a fist on her door and growled. Bloody idiot that he was, he didn’t have her mobile number.

“Kat!”

Still that awful, heavy silence.

Then the door at the end of the hall opened, and a young woman peered out of her door. She looked vaguely familiar, and he wondered where he might have seen her before.

“She’s not here,” the girl said. Blonde hair spilled around her shoulders, and she wore warm-looking pajamas. Another undergraduate studying hard for exams. Judging by the firm line of her lips and her hands resting on her hips, he’d clearly disturbed her.

Tristan set the food down by the door. “Do you know where Kat is?”

“You’re Tristan Kingsley, aren’t you?” the girl said, completely ignoring his question.

Something twisted in his stomach, making him feel ill. It never went well when someone recognized him. He’d managed to keep a fairly low profile since his return to Cambridge for the Master’s program, and he’d hate for that to change and have the paps hounding him on school grounds.

“And if I am?”

The girl opened the door wider so she faced him head on, arms crossed.

“Then I’ll tell you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you anymore.” The finality of the girl’s tone hit him hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

“Wh—what?”

“She saw a photo of you in the paper with another woman. She won’t date someone like you. So you might as well leave.” The girl’s scowl could’ve frozen the surface of the sun.

“The paper?”
Fucking hell.
That damned photo from last week was going to haunt him forever.

“I’ll explain that photo to her, but I’m not leaving. I’ll wait here all night if I have to.” He leaned against the wall by Kat’s door, making a show of settling in.

The girl’s frown only deepened. “Suit yourself, but she’s moved on from you.” Then she slipped back into her room and closed the door, leaving him to brood and ponder on his own.

Moved on from me?

No woman had ever walked away from him.
No one
. He’d always been the one to end to things. He’d be damned if he’d let Kat just leave him like this over a damned photo taken weeks before he’d met her. It wasn’t just his pride…There was so much more he’d wanted to do with her…not just physically. He’d loved talking to her, being around her, making her laugh…It had felt so bloody good just being with her. And now she was trying to reject that? Reject him?

I’ll be damned if I let that happen.

The minutes ticked by. Tristan ended up sitting on the floor against her door, resting his arms on one raised knee. The food had long since gone cold, and his mood had soured as well, but he’d wait all night to talk to her.

The main dormitory door clicked as it opened and people began coming down the hall, just out of sight. Tristan scrambled to his feet, dusting his coat and pants off. Kat and a man came around the corner, but she skidded to a halt when she saw him. The man behind her bumped into her back and steadied himself by gripping her waist with his hands.

A veil of red descended over Tristan’s vision, and he lunged for the other man, shoving him hard enough that he stumbled back, hitting the wall.

“Tristan! What are you doing? Stop it!” Kat turned her back on Tristan to speak to the other man. “Are you okay, Mark?”

Mark blinked, apparently stunned, then shook his head, straightened, and raised his fists.

“You want to fight? I’d be happy to oblige, you bleeding sod,” he growled.

“Bring it on, I was a boxing champ during university.” Tristan grabbed Kat. She didn’t fight him when he moved her behind him. Then he lifted his fists.

“Sounds good to me.” Mark stepped closer and the pair of them squared off.

Kat darted out and wedged herself between them, a hand on each of their chests, forcing them back.

“Cut it out! Both of you!” she snapped.

“Kat, who is he?” Tristan demanded, breathing hard. Blood roared in his ears as he fought to calm down. There was no way she was seeing this man, not after what they’d shared the night before. The thought of her with someone else after he’d exposed his soul to her made him sick to his stomach. He was not about to lose her to this fool, whoever he was.

“Mark is a friend.” Her hand on his chest rubbed him slightly. He doubted she was even aware that she was doing it. It soothed him, but only just.

“I’ve been waiting here for two hours.” Tristan’s voice had a cold edge to it, which reminded him of his father. He kept his eyes on Mark.

The man still had his fists half-raised. “I can take him, Kat, just give me the go-ahead.”

Kat made a small growl. “No! No more fighting. Mark, go to Lacy’s room. I’ll be fine. Tristan and I have to talk.”

Mark hesitated. “Are you sure? I’d be happy to summon the porter and have him throw this sod out.”

“You’ll behave, won’t you?” Kat asked Tristan, but it sounded more like a command.

He frowned at her, not liking that she was giving him orders, but for her, he’d agree. Her brows were drawn together and her lips pursed in a tight line. He wanted her smiling, or laughing breathlessly, not this anxious, pale-faced woman who stared at him now. Something about seeing her distressed made his pulse race and his muscles tense.

“I’ll behave,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

“Okay.” Kat exhaled, her shoulders dropping. She gave a gentle shove to Mark’s chest. “Go to Lacy.”

Mark finally walked down the hall, knocked on the door there, and the blonde woman re-appeared in the doorway. So that was Lacy?

Lacy’s eyes widened when she saw Tristan and Kat.

“Kat, are you okay?” Even though the question was directed at Kat, Lacy’s eyes settled on him, and a look he knew all too well was shot his way. One that said, “You hurt my friend, I’ll castrate you.” At any other time it would have delighted him to know that Kat had such loyal and protective friends, but not when said friends were attempting to keep him away from his woman.

Mark leaned in to Lacy, whispering something in her ear as his hands settled on her waist. Tristan watched him, strangely jealous of their open intimacy. He wanted to hold Kat the same way, have that same familiarity and right to touch her like a man in a relationship could.

Kat unlocked her door and turned to face him. Distrust and anger shadowed her lovely eyes.

Seeing that made him want to punch a wall. Hard.

He gathered the bag of cold French cuisine from the floor and followed her inside, closing the door with one foot. For a moment he struggled, words unable to form as he fought the urge to drag her into his arms and kiss all protests off her lips.

When her gaze dropped to the bag of food in his arms, he almost sighed in relief.
Dinner
, that was a word he could get out. Much safer than to admit his pride was wounded at her standing him up. Well, fucking hell, it was more than just his hurt pride, but he wouldn’t dare admit that particular weakness.

“Kat, I told you I’d be here for dinner tonight.”

She blew out a breath and faced him. A sinking feeling swept through him as he saw a decisive look carved into her delicate features.

“Tristan, we can’t do this. I’m sorry,” she said, maintaining a distance between them.

It seemed as if an ocean separated them. If he could just grasp her, draw her close and remind her of the electricity that sparked every time they touched, she wouldn’t be able to push him away, but her words rooted his feet to the ground.

“No. We haven’t even begun. You cannot shut me out.”

She lifted her chin. “Lacy warned me about what kind of man you were, but I didn’t want to believe her. I gave you a chance, but she was right. I was stupid to think you’d be different with me.”

“So you judge me without explanation?” He didn’t recognize his own voice. His words were dragged out of him, low and rough.

The food bag dropped to the ground with a thunderous smack. He stepped forward, leaning in close.

She stumbled in retreat, falling flat on her delectable ass when the backs of her knees hit the bed. Her eyes, wide with fright and inner pain, shined up at him, making him feel every inch the villain as he towered over to her.

“Kat, let me explain.” He eased down on one knee in front of her, putting them eye-to-eye. When he reached for her hands, she tugged them away, and the action burned him to the core.

A heavy silence settled between them and was only broken when she finally moved and pulled out a newspaper from beneath a pillow on her bed. She slapped it against his chest and crossed her arms.

Tristan stared at the picture of him and Brianna.

“This isn’t okay. Not for me. I won’t be with a guy, let alone sleep with him, when he’s doing this with another woman.”

The pages crinkled as his hands clenched.

Have to calm down
. He let go of the newspaper. He could explain this and she’d forgive him because he hadn’t been with anyone since meeting her. More importantly, he didn’t
want
anyone but her.

“That was taken two weeks ago, before I met you. Her name is Brianna. She and I have— had an understanding. Until I met you…”

Kat scoffed, but he didn’t miss the pain in her voice, and it sliced him deep with an invisible blade.

“An understanding? What does that even mean?”

Tristan raked a hand through his hair, facing her.

“She and I have seen each other on and off for years. She’s never wanted a relationship, and neither have I. It’s been more to scratch an itch than anything.” For the first time in his life he wished he had never slept with Brianna.

“You mean like friends with benefits?” Kat asked, staring at the picture, her eyes still glimmering with tears. He got up from his knee and sat on the bed beside her.

“That’s a very American way to put it, but yes. I haven’t seen her since that photo was taken two weeks ago. And since I met you two days ago, there hasn’t been anyone else.” He reached for one of her hands again, but she shrank away. His empty palm dropped to the bed between them.

He tried to breathe, but it felt like a boulder was crushing his chest.

“So you’ll judge me for something I did before I met you? I never professed to be a bloody saint!” Anger prickled beneath his skin, and he struggled to keep the dangerous edge out of his voice.

She blinked. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “We haven’t even known each other a week.”

“Then give this a chance, Kat!” His voice rose, and he got to his feet, but he forced his hands to stay at his sides. If he didn’t, he’d touch her, and he couldn’t promise not to kiss her, to remind her that what they felt for each other couldn’t be denied.

“No! I can’t date a man who will likely cheat on me as soon as he gets bored. I have more respect for myself than that.” She got off her bed and walked to her desk, slapping her palms down on her textbooks. Her head bowed slightly.

“I’d never cheat on you. Bloody hell, woman, I swear on my life,
on my title
, I would not.” How could she accuse him of something like that? She’d never given him a chance to prove he wouldn’t.

Her head lifted, and she looked at him, those gray eyes burning through him.

“You think I’ll agree to sleep with you because you’re going to be an earl? I don’t give a damn about that. You seem to think it matters that you’re going to be powerful someday. You can have any woman you want, but not me. I don’t need to get my heart broken by you. I’m not willing to take that chance.”

The finality in her tone broke him in two.

Nothing
had ever done that. Why the bloody hell did she matter so much? He had never felt the compulsion to become obsessed with a woman, so why did he feel like he couldn’t let her walk out of his life?

He wanted to shake her, grasp her shoulders and rattle her until she got her senses back. When he raised his hands, she lifted her chin. That defiance made him furious and desperate to kiss her. But she wouldn’t let him.

Tristan stared at the floor for a long moment. Inside, everything was spinning. Outside, he remained cool and calm as he’d always done when life seemed determined to crush him. Echoes from his past, his father’s cruelty, his mother’s hurt rumbled from deep inside, where he’d buried them.

I cannot let those old wounds reopen
.

Somehow he found the strength to stand, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he collected himself.

“There is something between us, something deep and powerful, and you’re going to let it go?” How could she not feel this intense pull? Sure, it was bloody well terrifying to admit he felt it, but he did. He didn’t want to ignore it, not when everything about being with her felt so right. The thought that he’d never see her again choked him.

“It’s not worth the risk.” Her voice was hollow. But tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was hurting as much as he was.

So be it
.

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you really want.” He slowly rose from her bed, grabbed his bag of food from the floor, and walked to the door.

“Have a nice life, Katherine.” He meant it, even though there was a bitter taste in his mouth and an odd ache in his chest.