Free Werewolf in Denver by Vicki Lewis Thompson Page B

she sat down to unlace her boots.
    “Need some help with that?”
    “Thanks. I’ve got it.” She paid attention to the damp laces this time so she didn’t knot them again. “You’ve completely abandoned the idea of taking the high road, haven’t you?”
    “Completely.” He sounded unrepentant about it, too. “You’re free to battle your conscience if you want to, but mine is clear. We didn’t choose to be marooned here together in a cozy cabin with a mirrored bed, and the whole setup has a sense of inevitability to it.”
    “That’s one way to look at it.” She pulled off the first boot. And she’d been guilty of having that same view minutes ago.
    “Here’s another way. I also see this night as a chance to find a meeting place, a middle ground, perhaps, between our two warring factions.”
    “Now, that’s delusional.” She pulled off the second boot and glanced over at him. He stood with his back to the fire, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks and his powerful shoulders caressed by the flickering light of the flames. He reminded her of a Celtic god who had touched down on earth to bestow his magnificent gifts on a mere mortal.
    “Why is it delusional?” His brogue might be the sexiest thing about him, but it topped a long list.
    She took off her socks and draped them over the back of the chair, too. “Because there is no middle ground. You’re either in favor of Weres mating with humans or you’re not.”
    He regarded her quietly for a moment. “Or to state itanother way, you’re either moving forward into the future or you’re stuck in the past.”
    “Or, to state it another way, you’re either recklessly endangering your species or you’re protecting it from harm and potential extinction.” She stood. “Where’s your middle ground now, Duncan?”
    “Good question.” Amazingly, he didn’t seem angry at all. “It might be located on that king-sized mattress in there.”
    “Does it all come down to sex, then?”
    He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he nodded. “It might, at that. It’s a concept to be considered. But I’d rather expand on it and include love. The sexual urge is as old as humans and werewolves. So is the urge to connect on a deeper level that goes beyond physical desire. Weres have always wanted a connection with humans. And humans connect with Weres all the time in business, friendship, and sex. They just don’t know it.” He chuckled. “Damn, I should write this blather down. It’s somewhat brilliant.”
    She couldn’t help laughing. They were poles apart in their philosophy, but he was the most entertaining Were she’d encountered in a long time. An unwelcome thought came to her. Would he be half as interesting if they agreed on everything?
    Surely that couldn’t be part of his appeal. When she finally found her soul mate, he would share her beliefs, and that would be one of the many bonds connecting them. Yet in cruising through the profiles on Furthebest.com, she’d found dozens of Weres who shared her beliefs.
    She’d told herself that time constraints had prevented her from contacting any of them. But if she’d been motivated to connect with a like-minded Were, she wouldhave found the time. Could it be that if they agreed with her, she was bored? She hoped not.
    “Are you coming over to sit by the fire, then?” Anticipation glowed in his eyes.
    She fought the pull of his sexuality. Instinct told her that once she joined him on that sofa, the battle to keep him at arm’s length would be over. A warm fire, a glass of wine, soft upholstery, and a hard Were—difficult to resist a combination like that.
    “Maybe we should post on Sniffer again, first.” She turned back to the kitchen table, picked up her phone, and hit the power button.
    “Aye, perhaps we should.” His tone was indulgent, as if he knew she was only delaying the inevitable. “Would you mind bringing my phone over?”
    “Sure.” As she reached for his phone,