Moon Shadows by Nora Roberts Page B

him. “If the cells thought they were being attacked by one thing, and reacted—or tried to react—then a secondary antidote could be administered. Sort of like catching them in the cross fire.”
    â€œThat’s the idea. We need to find two, not one.”
    â€œIt’s a good idea.” She liked the way his hand ran casually over her butt when she stood. “I’ve tried something similar before, mixing a mild sedative in with antibiotics. Valerian and skullcap, wolfsbane—”
    â€œNo wolfsbane,” he interrupted. “No poisons.”
    Scowling, she gulped down tea. “I know what I’m doing with herbs.”
    â€œNo question about it.” To keep her off balance, he yanked her onto his lap. “God, you smell good. You always do, then there’s that skin. Relax a minute. What herbs do you take to relax?”
    She struggled not to sigh. “Chamomile’s good. Lavender.”
    â€œHow about for an aphrodisiac?”
    â€œFenugreek.”
    He laughed so hard he nearly dumped her on the floor. “You’re making that up.”
    â€œWhat do you think I’ve been putting in your coffee every morning?”
    With another laugh, he squeezed his arms around her. “Well, keep it up. That way we’ll never be a bored old married couple.”
    She jumped away as if he’d jabbed her with a poker. “Married? What are you talking about?”
    He stayed where he was, that same easy smile on his face. “Didn’t I ask you yet? Where’s my to-do list?” He patted his pockets.
    â€œI can’t get married, Gabe. It’s not possible for me.”
    â€œSure it is. We fly to Vegas, find a tacky chapel—a personal fantasy of mine—and do it while an Elvis impersonator sings “Love Me Tender” off-key.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAll right, scratch the Elvis impersonator, but I insist on the tacky chapel. A boy can’t give up all his dreams.”
    â€œI can’t marry you, anyone. I can’t even consider it as long as I’m like this.”
    â€œTry a little optimism, Simone. We’re going to find the cure. Whether it takes a month, a year, ten years. While we’re looking, I want a life with you. I want to live here with you, and say things like, oh yeah, my wife has that great shop a couple blocks from here.”
    Her heart stuttered in her chest. “It could take ten years. It could take twenty.”
    â€œAnd if it does, we’ll have our lives, we’ll live them and for three nights a month, we’ll adjust them.”
    â€œI can’t have children. Well, I don’t know if I can’t ,” she said before he could respond. “But I couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk passing on what’s in me to a child. Blood to blood.”
    He sat back, and she could see he hadn’t thought of it, not yet. “Okay, you’re right. There’s adoption.”
    â€œOh, think , Gabriel! How do you explain to a child that Mom’s got to go lock herself in a cage now, so she doesn’t kill anyone. How could you chance the possibility that something could go wrong, some slip, and I’d hurt an innocent child?”
    â€œI think there might be ways to manage all that, but I understand what you’re saying. There are a lot of happy couples, Simone, who can’t have children, or choose not to.”
    â€œGabe.” Her voice, her heart, her eyes softened as she moved to him, touched his cheek. “You’ve got kids and white picket fence all over you. I can’t give you that, and I won’t put you in a position where you’re unable to have them.”
    â€œThere’s something you’re not factoring in, and it’sstarting to piss me off.” He shoved to his feet, took her arms under the elbows and brought her up sharply to her toes. “I love you. Love means you stick when things are hard, when they’re