A Midsummer Night's Romp

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A Midsummer Night's Romp Page 23

by Katie MacAlister


  Gunner took mental notes while she ranted, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself. Ten minutes later they emerged from the stairs back into the main cellar. He could hear the sounds of digging and voices coming from the northern end, but didn’t stop to investigate whether anything of interest had been discovered. He escorted a still muttering Lorina up the stairs and to the kitchen, where he knew the family would be. But rather than stopping there and accepting the cups of tea that Salma held out to them, he shook his head and said, “We’ll be down shortly,” and gently pushed Lorina out the door and into the hall, up another flight of stairs, and finally into the small suite of rooms that had been his since his father had died, and he had inherited Elliott’s former digs.

  “The shower is in there,” he said, pointing to the attached bathroom. “If you’ve got dirt in the same places I do, you’ll want to get it out before facing the family.”

  “They’re your family, not mine,” Lorina said huffily, but immediately started removing her clothes. “I don’t have to face them about anything. I’m no one to them, nothing, more than nothing. Just some chickie you got it on with in the bolt-hole. Although I do feel bad about Cressy seeing us.”

  “Don’t,” he said resignedly. “I’m sure she’s going to manage to turn the event into a horse of her own.”

  He would have liked to join Lorina in the shower, since he could think of nothing more pleasurable at that moment than soaping her up while standing under a stream of hot water, but when he peeled off his clothes and entered the bathroom, the glare she gave him through the shower door warned that his presence was not going to be welcome. He sighed and, wrapping a towel around his waist, left his rooms.

  Lorina was out of the shower when he returned. He held out a handful of clothing. “These belong to one of my sisters. She’s about your size, and I thought you might like some clean things to change into. At least until I can have your own things brought here.”

  “And why, pray tell, would you have my things brought to your room? Do you think that just because we slept together means I’m moving in?”

  “No, I think you’re moving in because that’s how married people live.”

  Lorina took a deep breath, then two more before finally managing to get words out. “I see you are confused about several points. First of all, we aren’t married. Second, and this is the most important, so I suppose it should really be the first point, I am not some mousy little woman who wants and needs a man to make decisions for her. Third, and this is almost as important as the new first point, so I suppose it should be second—hell, now I’m confusing myself—third, no man tells me what to do. I make my own decisions about what I do with my life.”

  “I think that your third point and the first one are basically the same,” he explained gently, wanting to wrap his arms around her. More than that, he wanted to take the hurt from her, the same hurt that showed in her eyes . . . in between the flashes of ire, that is. “And I apologize.”

  She had opened her mouth to dispute what he said, but paused, a little frown pulling her brows together. “You . . . you do?”

  “Yes. What I said was thoughtless and high-handed. You have every right to be annoyed with me, although in my defense, I’d like to say that I said what I did with your best interests uppermost in my mind.”

  She crossed her arms. “And how exactly does announcing our upcoming nuptials without even bothering to ask me represent my best interest?”

  “You need me,” he said simply, deciding honesty was definitely the best policy with her.

  “Me?” She looked aghast. “I don’t need anyone!”

  “Of course you do. We all need people—I need my family, and Cressy, and now you. And you need me because . . . well, because.”

  “Because why?”

  He considered her stance—it reminded him of a deer about to bolt. Carefully, mindful of her feelings, he answered, “You said earlier I was the only man you were comfortable with. I assume that means some men in your life have not been as considerate of you as they ought to have been. I will never be inconsiderate of you.”

  One of her eyebrows rose in a mute statement.

  He made a little conciliatory gesture. “Other than announcing our engagement without first asking you, that is.”

  She shook her head. “You really do take the cake—do you know that?”

  “Possibly, but you have to admit that a marriage between us would solve a lot of problems.”

  “Oh, really?” She stood before him with a towel tucked around her torso, unfortunately hiding those lovely breasts from his view. “Such as?”

  “It’s generally viewed as the right thing to be done when one is discovered in such a situation,” he said, trying to think of valid reasons why she should marry him. He knew why he wanted her, but finding reasons for her to accept him was more difficult.

  “If you’re in a Georgette Heyer novel, possibly. But I have news for you—no one does that sort of thing these days.”

  “It would allow you to stay in England longer than a normal tourist.”

  “What makes you think I want to stay here?”

  He didn’t answer that. Searching his mind, he offered, “We wouldn’t have to sneak around in order to make love. It wouldn’t shock Cressy to know we were sleeping together if we were married. And it would make Salma happy. She’s long wanted to see me happily settled.”

  Lorina hesitated. “Much as I like Salma, I’m not prepared to get married just to please her.”

  “You have to admit that we get on well together. Very well together,” he said with a little smile. “Think of how well things would go if we weren’t on a dirt floor, hmm?”

  She gave a ladylike snort. “There is more to life than mind-blowingly wonderful sex.”

  “And,” he said, presenting his coup de grâce, “if we were married, I could teach you how to be a proper photographer, so you wouldn’t have to go around pretending anymore.”

  The color faded out of her cheeks, and her gaze dropped. Instantly, he felt consumed with guilt and, without thinking, took her in his arms, kissing her hair. “I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have said that. I really am an oaf, aren’t I?”

  “No,” she said, her voice muffled as she snuggled her head into his neck. Her arms were tight around his waist. “It’s not you, Gunner. It’s me. I’m the one who is an oaf. And more. I’ve lied to you and Cressy and Salma and Roger, and, oh, everyone. And if you knew the truth about me, you’d never in a million years even joke about getting married. I’m not who you think I am. I have . . . dark secrets.”

  “You are a warm, loving woman,” he told her, wondering if she was going to trust him enough to tell him those secrets. “I’m sure you had a good reason for lying to us all.”

  “I do,” she said, making a suspiciously wet sniffling sound. He pulled back and tipped her head up. Her lashes were damp. “Oh, god, Gunner, you’re going to make me tell you, and then you’re going to hate me, and you’ll tell everyone about me and then they will hate me, too, and I just don’t think I could take that!”

  He brushed away a tear that had welled over her lower lashes. “I think it’s safe to say that there’s little you could do to make me hate you, and even if you did harbor some secret so heinous that it made me think twice about you—not that I think anything could—then I can promise you I won’t tell anyone else about it.”

  She swallowed hard and slid her hands up his chest, her fingers sending little tingles of electricity along his flesh. “I’ll tell you, but if you hate me because of it, I’ll never forgive you.”

  He kissed her, and led her over to the bed, where he pulled her down onto his lap. “Fair enough. No, to the right, those are my balls. Thank you. Comfortable? All right, begin.”

  Lorina leaned into him, tracing random patterns on his left pectoral. “It all started with my friend Sandy. S
he’s Alice’s foster sister, or one of them. I gather Alice lived with a few foster families.”

  “She did. She’s remarkably well-adjusted despite it, although I think she gave Elliott a few bad moments before she settled down.”

  “Well, anyway, she lived with Sandy’s family for several years, and since they were nearly the same age, they hung out together. Then Sandy went to college, and Alice turned eighteen and left the foster system, but they stayed in contact. Sandy and I met when we were roommates our freshman year. When we left college, we got an apartment together. She went into child welfare work, and I got a job teaching French to community college students. During summers, Sandy took time off to pursue her lifelong passion by volunteering at archaeological digs all over the world.”

  “Ah,” Gunner said. “I wondered when we’d get to Thompson. I take it she met him at one of the digs?”

  Lorina nodded. “And fell for him hook, line, and sinker. Came back from a dig and told me she was in love, and couldn’t wait to quit her job so she could join him, and live happily ever after, et cetera.”

  “Let me guess—Thompson had no serious intentions toward her?”

  “Not only that, but he left her an unwanted present.”

  “Oh dear. A baby?”

  “No, thank heavens.” Lorina’s jaw tightened. “Although I don’t know why I say that—Sandy would have been better off with a baby than HIV.”

  “Ouch,” Gunner said, starting to have an idea of where her tale was going.

  “Worse than ouch—it’s not the death knell that it was ten years ago, but it’s still ruined her life and any hope she had of having a normal family. She’s gone to live with some nursing nuns in Nepal who have a good rate of patient recovery, so we’re hoping they can get her healthy again, and able to live a life without infection.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, holding her tight. “If there’s anything I can do—”

  She kissed his jaw. “Thank you. She’s out of contact from her family and me for two months, so perhaps there will be good news at that time. Until then . . .” She stopped.

  “Until then, we have to make Thompson pay.”

  “No. Well, yes, it would be nice if he was held responsible for her situation, financially speaking, but so far, he’s refused to believe anything that Sandy told him. He claimed she was simply being a spurned lover and making up lies about him to scare off other women, and that he’d sue her if she spread rumors about him. She tried to give him her doctor’s statement, but he said that her illicit past had nothing to do with him, other than making him grateful he used condoms with her.”

  “If he wore a condom, then how—”

  “They aren’t infallible,” she said with a knowing look. “And Sandy distinctly remembers one time when he forgot. She told him that even if what he said was true, then he should have himself checked, but he refused, saying he was fine and had no symptoms, et cetera. He simply refuses to listen to her. But, Gunner, he has to be stopped. I don’t want another woman to go through what Sandy’s had to go through.”

  “And that’s why you’ve been playing up to him?” Gunner tried to work out a way that made sense, but failed. “I’m not quite sure I see—”

  “I was trying to get him into a position where he was alone with me, so I could slip him a roofie and take a sample of his blood.” Lorina ducked her head, peering up at him through her lashes. “I know, it’s wrong. It’s heinous. It’s barbaric and immoral, and illegal to boot, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.”

  “Hmm. I agree that he needs to face the fact that he is infected and could be infecting others. In addition, he must alert any other lovers whom he has infected.”

  “And not be allowed to harm anyone else,” Lorina added.

  “Agreed. What can I do to help you?”

  She stared at him for a few seconds, then said, “You want to help me?”

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t need to consider his answer before giving it. “Because it’s important to you.”

  “I . . . I . . . Gunner, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  His heart seemed to give a little squeeze at that idea. “I suggest we confront him together. Yes, I know you’ve already chatted with him, but if we present a united front, perhaps we can get further.”

  She took a deep, shaking breath. “That sounds wonderful. And thank you for caring so much about Sandy that you’d be willing to do this.”

  He let her think his altruism was for her friend.

  “So you don’t think I’m a horrible person?” The look in her eyes was so stark, it left him seriously thinking about marching out of the castle and putting his fist in Thompson’s face just because he upset Lorina.

  “I do not think you are a horrible person. I think you’re rather wonderful, to be honest. There’s not many women I know who would put themselves to both the trouble and expense to fly to the other side of the world just to avenge a friend, not to mention save the lives of women she’s not even met. My youngest sister might. Alice probably would, but she’d do it on a whim without any preplanning, and then she’d get herself in a predicament that would be both funny and alarming.”

  To his joy, Lorina smiled at that. “I don’t know Alice well, but I do think when I get to know her better, I’m going to like her a lot.”

  “You will. She’s a delight, although not nearly so charming as you.”

  “Silly man. You have to say that due to your weird, antiquated idea of chivalry that kicked in when people saw us in the passageway.” Her smile faded, and she looked worried again. “You’re not going to tell your family about me, are you?”

  “That you have breasts that make my mouth water, and an ass that’s almost divine, and legs that make me hard just thinking about them wrapped around my waist? No, I won’t tell them those things. I will tell them that you’re fabulous in all other regards, but I won’t mention a thing about the way your muscles tighten around me until I think I might just die of happiness.”

  “Silly man,” she repeated, and got off his lap, collecting the clothes and returning to the bathroom. “We’re not getting married.”

  “I think we are,” he called after her, and idly wondered if he should be concerned why something that had started as a joke was now becoming vitally important to him.

  Chapter 17

  “We got one!”

  It wasn’t so much the volume of the shout that had me looking up from where I was sitting on my air mattress tying the laces of my boots, but the excitement rife in the words. I couldn’t tell who had shouted the statement, but I thought it was one of the grad student diggers.

  “Really? Where?”

  That sounded a lot like Daria.

  “Castle cellar. Paul’s cleaning it now so we can read it. Of course he’s claiming that it was all him finding it, but Simon said it was in a trench on the northeast, not the one Paul was on. Exciting stuff, huh?”

  “Very.”

  I poked my head out of my tent and had my guess confirmed. “Another mouse stone?” I asked Daria, who stood with an especially sour look on her face, watching the retreating back of the digger.

  “So I gather. I wouldn’t know, since Paul won’t let me near the cellar trenches.” She shifted the look to me before giving me a twisted smile. “Welcome back, by the way. I heard through the grapevine that you and the hunky Gunner were trapped together overnight.”

  “It was a lot less fun than you’re imagining,” I told her, gathering up my camera bag and emerging from the tent. “No toilet, no food, no water, and after a couple of hours, no light.”

  “Mmhmm. But evidently you found a way to keep yourselves busy.”

  “OK, that is a knowing look if I ever saw one,” I said, pointing to her face. We both turned and started toward the pastu
re where Daria’s trench was. “And it’s totally unnecessary. I’m too traumatized by the way everyone burst in on us to put up with that. What’s been going on while we were incommunicado?”

  She gave a short burst of laughter. “That’s one way of putting it, eh? Well, let’s see. . . . There was a search for you and Gunner when you didn’t show up for supper.”

  “It’s nice to know that the second I disappear, people think I’m having sexy fun time.”

  “Well, you were,” Daria pointed out.

  “I know I was, but everyone else doesn’t have to think that way about me!” I pulled my dignity together. “At least people noticed we were missing.”

  “This morning the baron and his wife came back, and when he found out that no one had seen you or Gunner since yesterday, he started a proper search in the castle.”

  My cheeks warmed at the thought of what they had found, but I pushed it away. “Thank heavens for the baron.”

  “Yes, well, thanks to him and Gunner’s daughter. The baron grilled her about what you talked about yesterday morning, and she said that Gunner had been talking about how his dad had taken them down to the cellar, and then the baron said, ‘I wonder if he went to look in the bolt-hole,’ and then I gather they tried the door, but it wouldn’t open, so he got an ax and hacked it down.” She made a moue. “I have to say, I wish I’d been there to see that. Roger said he filmed the whole thing, and it was going to get a lot of press.”

 

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