Meant to Be Immortal (Argeneau #32) - Lynsay Sands Page 0,87

get her hand up between them at the last minute. Catching his nose and mouth with the palm of her hand, she closed her fingers on his face and forced his head back up, then pulled out of his arms as she said, “There’s just one thing stopping me from doing that.”

She didn’t wait for him to ask what that one thing was, but simply let the word fall from her mouth like the stone it was. The huge honking boulder that had been lodged in her gut for three and a half years. “HIV.”

Mac stiffened, his eyes rounding, and she nodded. “Yeah. I have HIV.” Smiling bitterly, she added, “Bet I’m looking a lot less attractive now, huh?”

“No,” he said solemnly. “I’m sorry you have HIV, but it doesn’t change how I feel. I’m still attracted to you and I still want to know more about you and have you in my life.”

“You mean as a friend,” she suggested quietly.

“As a friend, a lover, a partner,” he countered.

CJ’s heart jumped at his words and her eyes widened. That wasn’t at all what she’d expected and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. She was tempted, but . . .

“You do know what HIV is, right?” she asked with a slight frown.

“I’m a hematologist, CJ. Of course I know.”

“Well, how the hell could you want me after learning that?” she asked with disbelief. She found it hard to imagine anyone would want her knowing that. She herself had felt dirty and tainted since finding out she had it. Counseling had helped a bit, but she still felt like her ex-husband had marked her like a dog pissing on a hydrant, and couldn’t believe Mac didn’t now find her repulsive.

“CJ,” he began soothingly, but she cut him off.

“You’re going to try to sell me that business about safe sex. I mean, yes, I take my antiretroviral treatments, and my viral load is undetectable, and between that and condoms it should be safe,” she said, sure that was where he was heading. “But I don’t have tests every single day—what if the day we had sex was the day it was detectable? Condoms are supposed to protect you, but do you know how many babies are born each year because of faulty or broken condoms?”

“CJ—”

“No,” she said grimly.

“You don’t have to worry about giving me HIV.”

“Of course I do. I hate the person who gave it to me. I don’t want you to hate me! And hell, I’d hate myself if I was responsible for giving it to you.”

“You can’t,” he assured her.

“What?” she asked with disbelief. “Of course I can.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You cannot.”

“How do you figure that?” she asked at once.

Mac opened his mouth, closed it, and then frowned as if unsure he should say what he wanted to.

“Because he already has it.”

CJ turned sharply on Justin Bricker as he stepped out onto the porch after making that announcement from the doorway. She stared at him blankly, then shifted her gaze back to Mac. He was looking back at Bricker, his face turned away. She couldn’t see his expression. Not that she would have probably noticed what it was if she could see it. Her mind was taken up with her own reactions. The shot of shock, followed by quick sympathy and sadness that a man so virile and strong had HIV. But hope and even happiness quickly overwhelmed both of those reactions. If he had HIV it meant she wouldn’t have to worry about giving it to him, and she had a chance of making her dream a reality and having a relationship with him. She might be able to have him as a partner and enjoy a more normal life.

CJ liked Mac. She was attracted to him, and she could have him . . . without guilt or worry. She could have sex, and that was a big one. It had been more than three and a half years since she’d had sex, and she was so damned attracted to the man that she was having wet dreams about him. She’d never even had those about her ex-husband, whom she’d had the hots for something terrible.

But those thoughts were quickly followed by guilt. She was quite sure she shouldn’t be so happy about his misfortune. That was selfish and just kind of disgusting.

Feeling swamped by the combination of emotions, CJ shot past Mac and Justin and hurried into the house. She needed time alone to think over