A Midsummer Night's Romp (31 page)

“I'm afraid it's more serious than that,” Gunner said, his hands on Lorina's shoulders. Just knowing she had the same sort of warm feelings toward him as he felt for her gave him a sense of peace that was strangely fulfilling. The world felt right, as if it had been off-kilter all this time, and he only just now realized it. “Daria gave him false results simply so he wouldn't get the drugs he needed to keep the disease under control. She didn't want anyone to know he was infected.”

“Did Daria break off the relationship with you, Paul, or were you the one to end things?” Lorina asked.

“I did,” he said, his frown deepening. “But I hardly think Daria would plant the stolen archaeology on me over a long-forgotten failed relationship.”

“Long forgotten by you, but not by her,” Gunner said.

“You think Daria would do that simply because Thompson dumped her?” Alice asked.

“No,” Lorina said slowly, glancing at Gunner. “But she might if she was infected, like Sandy was.”

“Hell hath no fury,” Alice agreed, nodding.

Paul paled. “You mean I really am sick and it's not just work wearing me down?”

“I'm not a doctor, so I can't say for sure, but it's looking very much like you have HIV,” Lorina said solemnly. “I'm sorry, Paul. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, even though there are lots of drugs these days that keep people with HIV living healthy and happy. I should know—I went with Sandy to all her doctor appointments, and got the scoop on the antiretroviral drugs that are working wonders. You really should see your doctor pronto, though.”

“Indeed, he should,” Gunner agreed.

“Does that mean you think Daria is infected, too?” Alice asked, looking worried.

“Not necessarily,” Lorina said. “She told me she dated Paul before she met her husband, so that had to be some time ago.”

“About fifteen years, yes.” Paul sank into a chair, his expression stunned. “I had no idea. . . . I thought it was just back-to-back digs, and then the long hours, and . . . Christ! HIV.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Gunner spoke again.

“If Daria is a particularly vindictive person, and it seems like she is, then I can see her fixing the report so that it made Paul think he wasn't sick when he was. She probably hoped that if the disease ran amok in him, it would do some serious damage, and it would be too late for treatment. Or at least sideline him so she could take
his job. That she could so cold-bloodedly allow other women to become infected speaks a lot to her nature.”

“Psychopath,” Alice said, shaking her head in dismay. “Revenge-driven and intent on doing anything necessary to see Paul suffer.”

Lorina shifted uneasily. “Yes, well, not everyone who seeks revenge is really bad. Anyway, I guess we won't know the truth until we can find Daria and ask her.”

“Where does that leave me?” Paul asked. “Yes, I'll see my doctor immediately, tonight if possible, although I don't hold out much hope for that. But what about these charges against me? Am I going to be arrested? I did nothing wrong! I can't stay to talk to the police when I have to get to a doctor. I could be dying!”

“I don't think you're dying. You seem in pretty good health other than you said you've been tired a lot,” Lorina pointed out.

That seemed to cheer up Paul. “That is true. And they have wonder drugs these days, don't they? But what about the police and the baron's intention to have me arrested?”

“We know you are innocent,” Gunner said before Elliott could respond. “We know you didn't drug us or take the artifacts. Where are they, by the way?”

“Safely locked up in my trailer,” Roger said. He'd been so quiet, Gunner had forgotten he was there with them. “And there they'll stay until I can get them in the hands of the conservator that the Claud-Marie people are sending out.”

“Wise,” Gunner said appreciatively, and pulled Lorina out of the chair. “I believe we've cleared up all the mysteries, other than hearing what Daria has to say, not that there's much doubt about it. But since Lorina's eyes are drooping, and I myself am about ready to drop down and fall asleep on the ground, I believe we're going to
bed. To sleep, I should point out lest some of you think otherwise. Although the other will follow, not that you need to know that. Christ, now my mouth is running away with me.”

“It's the drugs,” Lorina said, giggling, and stood up. “Come on, Mr. No Verbal Barriers. Let's get some sleep so we can be fairly intelligent when people find the missing Daria.”

“Sleep sounds good. Sleep with you, fair lady, sounds like heaven on earth,” he said gallantly. “Sleep with you every night is beyond my wildest dreams of happiness. Marry me, Lorina. Marry me and love me as much as I love you, and end my hedonistic ways.”

Lorina's eyes widened when he took her hand and got on one knee. He winced and, with a muttered apology about his ankle, sat on the couch and pulled her onto his lap, still holding her hand.

“Did you just propose to me? In front of everyone?” she asked, the scent of wildflowers making his head spin. It was a delightful sensation, one that he fully intended to enjoy for the remainder of his life.

“Yes, yes I did. I felt it was necessary to have an actual proposal if Alice is at some point going to all the trouble of planning our wedding.”

“A Roman wedding,” Roger said, looking up from where he was sending a text message. “We talked about that. A nice, authentic Roman wedding with slaves and a captain of the guard. Which reminds me, I really must call costuming to see how many Roman outfits they have.”

“I don't want to press you, love. You don't have to answer me now, but I do feel it necessary to say in front of my family that I want you in my life. Every day. Starting now, and going forward for as many years as we have. Tell me that you'll think about marrying me. Tell me that
the idea of spending your life with me isn't repugnant, and that you will save me from spending my life flitting from woman to woman in a desperate attempt to forget the love that I lost.”

“Poetic,” Lorina told him. “Very poetic, and I like the part where you want me to marry you just to save you from all those other women out there who covet you. Not that I blame them, of course, but they can just keep their hands to themselves, because I have decided that I will consider marrying you.
Consider
, mind you, because in-control women don't rush into things like marriage, and there are some issues still to be worked out, such as where we would live, but yes, I accept your proposal to consider marrying you and your fabulous chest that I want to touch more than anything.”

Gunner laughed at the shocked look that came over her face. She had covered her mouth at what was obviously a slip, and now slid her fingers open to say, “Dammit, you are a bad influence on my mouth. Stop encouraging it to say things like that.”

“But I like it,” he said, nipping at her delectable lower lip. “I like it a lot. I like
you
a lot. I love you, Lorina, and that's not something I say lightly.”

“It's not. I've never heard him say it about any woman who isn't a family member. This is a momentous occasion,” Elliott said.

Gunner nibbled the top of Lorina's lip, and willed her to say the words he suddenly quite desperately wanted to hear. “Tell me you think fondly of me. Tell me you want me over all other men. Tell me you'll take pity on me and save me from hordes of unbridled women. But mostly tell me that someday you could love me.”

Lorina leaned back in order to eye him, sighed, and said with a curl to the corners of her mouth, “Oh, very well. In the interest of saving you from being ogled and
molested and forced to sexually gratify hundreds if not thousands of women, I will admit that you're not half-bad, and I might already be the tiniest bit in love with you.”

“A tiny bit?” he asked, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. “That's good. That's a start. It's a good start. Do you think it might improve? I'm not pressuring you, or hurrying you, mind. It's just that the love part is important. Tantamount, you might say.”

She glanced at the others, and then said slowly, “Joking aside, Gunner, I've never been one to blare my emotions to all and sundry.”

“I know,” he said, swallowing back a sense of despair that she would ever come to feel about him as he felt for her. “And that's fine. I won't ask you to do so now. I just wanted to make it clear to everyone that I was committing myself to you, if you'd have me.”

Her lips twitched. “You're going to make me say it in front of everyone, aren't you? No, no, don't tell me you won't make me do anything—I know you won't. Dammit, it's still such a new feeling that I hate to put it into words, but since I can't resist those big blue eyes . . . fine. I love you more than just a tiny bit. And I suppose I even need you a little, although not as much as you need me to keep you in line so all those women stop bothering you. And, hallelujah, I can finally tell Dr. Anderson to stop worrying about me. There, are you happy?”

“Deliriously so,” he said, kissing her the way he'd wanted to kiss her ever since he'd woken up from the stupor. He smiled when she whispered into his mouth that she loved him more than she ever thought possible.

“All right,” he said, gently pushing her off his lap so he could get up. “The show is over. She's formally accepted the proposal to think about marrying me.”

“So nice to scratch one of your siblings off my
matchmaking list,” Alice said as Gunner wrapped an arm around the woman who he knew truly needed him just as much as he needed her, smiling when Lorina leaned against him as if they were longtime lovers.

How right he had been to listen to Elliott talk about how happy marriage made one. And how smart he had been to pick Lorina as the woman to fill his life. Now if he could just figure out how he was going to keep his mother from making a huge event out of their eventual wedding . . .

To: Alice Ainslie

From: Lorina Liddell

Subject: I can't believe we're doing this!

I know we said we were going to Oregon just so Gunner and Cressy could help me pack up a few things, but the silly man wore me down, and after I finally gave in, he and Cressy made an executive decision while we were still in the air, so instead of going to Portland, we ended up in Anaheim.

Yes, we're getting married. In Disneyland. Don't ask who is officiating—it's one of Gunner's Internet religion buddies—which I guess means you and I have officially started a tradition of Ainslie wives getting married to their husbands twice—once via a ceremony of dubious authenticity, followed later by a legal one.

Please consider this our request to organize a very small civil ceremony for us when we get back.

Thanks for the update on Daria. I'm glad they caught her before she could get out of the country with the remainder of the Roman treasure, although it would be nicer if she admitted what
she'd done rather than denying drugging us, or keeping the truth about Paul's condition from him and any women he's been intimate with. It bothers me that Daria's been released on bail—does anyone else but me think she's going to bolt?

Regardless, it's a shame that her husband got dragged into the whole mess, but good to know that he and their kids don't have HIV, or that he was involved in Daria's scheme to punish Paul. Poor man. I can't imagine what he's feeling, knowing his wife altered documents that seriously endangered all those women (and, of course, Paul), not to mention drugging Gunner and me and stealing valuable artifacts. Shall we take bets as to whether he divorces her and then sues her for almost destroying his livelihood?

I have to say, I feel a lot sorrier for Paul than I expected. It couldn't have been easy to have contacted all those women he's slept with, although thank god he used condoms that worked with them. It doesn't help Sandy, but at least we know there's no one else out there suffering because Daria was trying to destroy him and take his job. Boy, did she have me fooled. What a heartless bitch.

Gunner asked me to thank you and Elliott for taking over the archaeology “expert and an idiot” spots (as I thought of them), although you are by no means an idiot. We both appreciate your doing so, and if the rave reviews are anything to go by, you and the baron are a big hit. We should be back from Disneyland in time to participate in the last few days of the dig, so if you could keep taking a few pictures while you're running
around the cellar and the other trenches, I'd be grateful. Gunner seems to think I can really pull together a book, although I'm not so sure. Still, it'll be a fun project to work on together.

Gunner and Cressy send their love, and Cressy made me promise that I'll send you a picture of her as Gunner's best man. Oh, and she wants to remind Elliott that she will need stable space for a horse next year.

It's going to be a wild ride with the two of them, but you know I'm going to love every minute of it. There's just something about those Ainslie boys, huh?

Must dash. All our best,

Lorina (and Gunner and Cressy)