Epilogue

Four days later.

The loud, rotary noise of the electric saw died away and silence returned to the workshop. Ian McPherson set the tool aside and slid the protective goggles up on the top of his head. Picking up the piece he had just cut, he eyed it critically and added it to the pile of material to be painted. Ian had always enjoyed working with his hands and was more than willing to apply his considerable talents to the small repairs that needed to be done around the estate.

His thoughts returned to Lara, as they had so many times in the last few days. He had never in a million years dreamed of dating a Lara Croft, much less having a permanent relationship with someone like her. His first wife, a lovely young woman named Rebecca, had been pregnant with their first child when she was killed in a car crash many years ago. It had taken him a long time to get over her death. He had immersed himself in his career and as his responsibilities increased his search for someone to replace her had become increasingly difficult.

And in truth, his expectations for a mate were impossibly high. So high, in fact, that he could not believe he had found what he was looking for.

Ian's face softened at the memory of their encounter the other day. It was like holding a wild bird in his arms and her kiss had stirred him to the very depths of his soul. They had stood together for quite a long time, her head against his shoulder. Neither spoke, but he could feel her softness against him and the rapid beating of her heart.

Ian sighed and shook his head. They had gone out later for a quiet dinner, but the evening had ended with their new relationship in jeopardy. For in spite of her abilities, Ian had serious reservations about her adventures overseas. His attempts to discuss it had created friction between them, for Lara had made it clear she was not ready to give up her travels. They could not agree and when he had taken her home the issue had still not been resolved.

He had left the next morning to take care to several business items and to attend a reunion of the Coldstream Guards. A former sergeant-major of the regiment, he had been the senior enlisted man and still retained a great interest in its activities. The annual event was something he always looked forward to, but this time his feelings about attending were mixed.

It had been good to see his friends again, and when he returned home the following day, he had hoped to resolve his differences with Lara. But he was disappointed to find that she was gone. The museum had asked her to make a trip to Paris to examine several archeological items. She had only returned late last night and on the phone she had sounded very tired.

He had hoped to see her this morning, too, but again he was disappointed. He and Jeeves had spent quite a while discussing several household issues, but she had not come down. Hopefully she would…

"Good morning," said the feminine voice behind him.

Ian turned, a broad smile on his face. She was standing in the doorway, holding two steaming mugs of tea. She was dressed in a sweatshirt and pants and looked very tired.

"Good morning. How was your trip?"

She grimaced as she walked into the workshop. "Long. And a waste of time, too. They made me wait over 24 hours. And then the stuff was worthless."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Not as sorry as I am." She handed him a mug. "Ian, we need to talk."

He nodded glumly. "Yeah. I know." He led her to a small table and chairs out on the patio, thinking it was great while it lasted, even if only for the memory of her kiss. Finding another job would be easy, but he would sure miss seeing her.

"I'm still thinking about the other day," she said after they were seated. "We both said a number of things at dinner. I've given it a lot of thought since then."

"So have I."

"I'm a big girl, Ian. I've been taking care of myself for almost decade. My 'adventures,' as a lot of people like to call them, are a part of me. And frankly, my travels are what I live for. I was brought up to be some rich lord's wife, but I turned away from that lifestyle. My professional life has brought me a measure of recognition and the esteem of my colleagues. I have a Ph.D. and a title and a big house in the country."

And well deserved, too, thought Ian as he sipped the hot liquid.

"I want you to know that I appreciate your concern for my safety, Ian. But I'm still young enough to be a good explorer and I want to continue it, at least for a few more years."

"You are certainly good at it," he admitted.

To his surprise, she reached across and took his hand. "But at the same time, I don't want to lose you, Ian. Over the last ten months you have become an important part of my life."

"I'm sorry, Lara, but it won't work. I can't stay here. It would be torture enough for me to be around you all the time, but to have you gone and not know if you're coming home…." He shook his head sadly. "It's best if I leave quickly. In fact, I received several job offers while I was at the reunion. I won't have any trouble."

She gripped his hand tightly. "You're not going anywhere, Ian McPherson," she said fiercely. "You already have a job."

"But I just said…"

"Hush, you big oaf, and let me finish, will you?"

"All right. But I can't keep being your major-domo any more, Lara. I just can't."

"I don't want you to be my major-domo, Ian. I want you to be my husband."

"But it won't…what did you say?"

"You heard me. I want to marry you."

"But I thought you want to continue with your travels."

She grinned. "I do, Ian. And I want you to come with me."

He blinked. "You can't be serious. I'm honored, Lara, but I'd just slow you down."

"Who cares? I'm not in that much of a hurry."

He stared at her in confusion. "I don't understand. The other night you…"

She held up her hand. "I've had time to think about it, Ian. Including a long, lonely time in Paris. I want you to be a part of my life and I want to be a part of yours. I want us to do life together." She grinned suddenly. "And maybe I am starting to slow down a bit. It wouldn't hurt to have a good man at my back."

He pulled away from her in mock anger. "So you're just trading a major-domo for a body guard, is that it?"

She nodded. "I have a Ph.D., Ian. And that makes me smart to know a good man when I find one. If I have to marry him to keep him from getting away, then so be it."

"But, Lara…"

She shoved back her chair and jumped to her feet. "Now you listen to me, Ian McPherson. We are getting married and that's final! You might as well get used to the idea."

He stared at her, unable to believe that this beautiful young woman really wanted to marry him. She would be a handful. Better make that about three.

She stuck out her chin. "Do I have to go get my guns and drag you to the preacher, mister? Is it going to be a shotgun-wedding?"

He sighed. "No, Miss Lara. I'll come along quietly." Then he grinned. "That is, after I spank your bottom. No skinny, little Ph.D. girl is gonna threaten me and get away with it."

She smiled. Then she walked over to him and turned, so that her back was to him. "Spank away, Mister Ian."

Her rear end was within easy striking distance. But instead of smacking her, he reached up with both hands and dragged her into his lap.

"Hey! What kind of a spanking is this?"

He grabbed the back of her head and forced it down, and shortly his mouth covered hers. For the second time in four days, Ian McPherson forgot where he was. Eventually their lips parted, but Ian kept his eyes closed, just enjoying the sensation of her kiss.

A soft hand touched his cheek. "There's more where that came from, mister."

He opened his eyes to see a beautiful smile a foot from his face. "I might grow to like it, I suppose, given enough practice."

She jumped out of his lap. "You'll have more practice than you can handle, Ian. And that's a promise!"

He looked up. "I'll look forward to it."

"And speaking of promises, mister, you promised me a shooting contest the other day. You never gave me a chance to beat you."

"Beat you?" he retorted with a grin. "Anytime, my girl. Any time at all."

She turned for the door. "I'll be ready in forty-five minutes."

* * * * *

Three quarters of an hour later, Ian walked into the shooting range. Lara hadn't arrived yet, so he went about setting up the most difficult computer sequence he could think of. Then he made a copy of that sequence for himself, lengthening the time for each target by a full second.

He grinned as he clicked on the 'save' button. It was how he'd been beating her for quite some time. Lara was a great marksman, but cheating on her a little was a great way to keep her motivated. Without the edge the altered computer program gave him, she would probably have defeated him three times out of four.

Someday he would tell her about it. Maybe.

He stepped away from the computer and felt her watching him. Turning, he saw her in the doorway, wearing the same black outfit she'd had on the other day. Her hair was down, too. The fatigue had vanished with her shower and she looked wonderful.

She stepped into the room. "Well, how about it, sergeant-major? Do I pass inspection?"

"Inspection?" he replied, a soldier again in an instant. "All right, Miss Croft. Stand at attention! Wipe that smile off your face. Heels together. Stand up straight."

Lara stifled a grin as she tried to do as he asked. He crossed to her and looked her up and down, a stern expression on his face, as if he was inspecting a company of troops. It was something he had done hundreds of times before.

He moved around to the side, examining every detail of her tanned figure. He had just moved behind her, when he heard a snicker.

Instantly, he was in her face. "Did I say something funny, Trooper Croft?"

She tried to keep from laughing. "Uh, no, sergeant-major."

"Then wipe that grin off your face."

"Yes, sir."

He took his time with it, enjoying the luxury of being able to look without feeling guilty. Eventually, he ended up in front of her.

"Pistols," he said.

She drew her twin automatics and handed them over. The weapons were spotless, as he knew they would be. Lara was a fanatic about keeping her guns clean, because she knew her life often depended on them. After a quick look, he gave them back.

"Hands."

With some degree of surprise, she lifted her hands and held them out. Her fingers were long and slender and her nails had a pale polish that accented her hands rather than screaming for attention.

He frowned. "You are out of uniform, trooper."

She blinked and glanced at him. "I am?"

"Don't you eyeball me, trooper!" he roared. "Eyes front."

Her upper lip quivering in her effort to keep from laughing, Lara looked over his shoulder.

"Like I said, Trooper Croft, you are out of uniform. We need to fix that right now." So saying, he reached in his pocket. Then, taking her left hand in his, he slid the ring on the fourth finger.

Lara looked down, and drew in a sharp breath. The diamond solitaire shone like a tiny star in the sunlight coming through the window. "Oh, Ian! It's beautiful!" She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Chuckling with amusement, he returned her embrace.

"Do I pass inspection?" she asked a moment later, her voice soft in his ear.

"I haven't finished yet," he murmured, a wicked grin curling his lips.

She shoved herself away from him. "Not finished?" She jammed her fists on her hips and stuck out her chin, glaring at him. "Just what else do you have to inspect, Mr. McPherson?"

"Your mouth, Trooper Croft."

"What about my mouth?" she shot back. "Are you going to count my teeth?"

He tilted his head. "Well, I already know how big your mouth is, Trooper Croft. But now I need to see how soft your lips are." He shrugged. "It's part of the inspection."

She smiled and backed away. "I don't let anyone test my lips."

"Yeah?" He took a step toward her. "I really must insist, Trooper Croft."

She backed away again and her hands dropped to her pistols. "Don't even think about it."

"I'm not afraid of your little popguns. In fact, I think I'll just take them, so you won't hurt yourself."

She took another step backward and promptly ran into the wall. "Nobody takes my guns, mister. Least of all you."

"That's where you're wrong, trooper Croft." Reaching out, he grasped her wrists and pulled them away from the pistols. It was easy because she made no effort to prevent him from doing so.

"Now what happens, mister?" she asked after he had placed her guns on a nearby table.

"Now I test your lips. Resistance is futile."

She laughed. "A Star Trek fan, too, Ian?" She took a deep breath and sighed. Then she slipped her arms around his neck. "Oh, very well, then. Test to your heart's content."

He grinned. "Better not say that, Lara. We might be here a long time."

He kissed her then, gently at first, but with increasing passion as she responded to him. Her mouth was perfect, just like the rest of her, and it was some minutes before he could get himself back under control.

She leaned back in his arms. "Now do I pass?"

He nodded. "You do. But your lips will have to re-inspected periodically."

"Can I have my guns back?"

"No. You'll have to wait 'till after we're married. No bride of mine is getting married wearing guns."

Quick as a flash she shoved him backward and ran to the table to retrieve her weapons. "You're wrong about that, Mr. McPherson. Why do you think I bought a white gunbelt?"

The End