Free All the Possibilities by Nora Roberts Page A

some popcorn.
    "I was going to make a confession. Then I remembered I don't make them very well. We still need to see the monkeys."
    "You don't really think I'm going to let a provocative statement like that slip by, do you?"
    "Well
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    some place like this, which I thought would bore you to distraction then be as
    —
    obnoxious as possible."
    "Have you been obnoxious?" His tone was mild and entirely too serious. "I thought you've been behaving very naturally."
    "Ouch." Shelby rubbed at the figurative wound under her heart. "In any case, I get the distinct impression that I haven't discouraged you at all."
    "Really?" Reaching for more popcorn, he leaned close and spoke gently in her ear.
    "How did you come by that?"
    "Oh
    " She cleared her throat. "Just a hunch."
    —
    He found that tiny show of nerves very rewarding. Yes, the puzzle was coming together, piece by careful piece. It was the way he'd always structured his life. "Odd. And not once since we've been here have I mentioned that I'd like to find a small, dim room and make love to you, over and over."
    Warily Shelby slid her eyes to his. "I'd just as soon you didn't."
    "All right." Alan slipped an arm around her waist. "I won't mention it while we're here." A smile tugged at her mouth, but she shook her head. "It's not going to come to that, Alan. It can't."
    "We have a fundamental disagreement." He paused on a bridge. Beneath them, swans floated haughtily. "Because to my way of thinking it has to."
    "You don't understand me." Shelby turned away to watch the birds on the water because his eyes were tripping some tiny little release she hadn't even been aware was inside her.
    "Once I've made up my mind, I'm rock hard."
    "We've more than ancestry in common." He watched the sunlight add more heat to the flames of her hair. Touching it, lightly, fingertips only, Alan wondered how it would look after they'd made love. Wild strands of fire. "I wanted you from the minute I saw you, Shelby. I want you more with every minute that passes." She turned her head at that, surprised and unwillingly excited. It hadn't been an empty phrase or clich

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    something that immediately and that badly," he murmured while his fingertips strayed to her jawline, "I don't walk away from it."
    Her lips parted as his thumb brushed over them. She couldn't prevent it, or the lightningflash thrill of desire. "So
    " Striving to be casual, Shelby dug out some more popcorn
    —
    before she set the bucket on a bench. "You put your energies into convincing me that I want you."
    He smiled. Slowly, irresistibly, he circled her neck with his fingers. "I don't have to convince you of that. What I have to convince you of," he began as he drew her closer,
    "is that the stand you're taking is unproductive, self-defeating, and hopeless." She found herself weakening, wanting to be convinced. His lips hovered just above hers. Yet he was careful; even focused on her own vulnerabilities. She understood that. He'd always been circumspect in public. She'd always be careless. It annoyed her. It intrigued her too.
    His eyes, so serious, so calm, seemed to cut through every logical defense she could
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    or would
    have thrown between them. Before she could make a move toward or away,
    —
    something tugged impatiently at her T-shirt.
    Confused, Shelby glanced down and saw a small Oriental boy of around eight staring up at her. He began a rapid, musical spiel, complete with gestures and eye-rolling. Shelby understood the frustration if not the content.
    "Slow down," she ordered, grinning as she slipped from Alan's hold to crouch in front of him. Her first thought