"Mary Janice Davidson - Wyndham Werewolves 01 - Love's Prisoner" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

saving my life, and then you could have gone your way and I'd have gone mine. Instead you dothis ," She
gestured to the RV bedroom. "I loathe rooms on wheels," she hissed.

"There was the small matter of my enemies finding you," he reminded her calmly.

"Very small—you knew my name and itstill took you three weeks to find me."

"Even if there was only a chance in a thousand you were in danger, do you think I'd risk you for an
instant?" he asked sharply. "You're angry with me now, but what if I had never come back in your life . . .
but my enemies had? You would have died cursing my name. I couldn't have borne that."

"Oh, please." She turned her back on him. "You don't give two shits for me. I was a piece of ass you
couldn't resist. That's—aaah!"

He had come up behind her with that liquid, silent speed she had seen before, startling her badly. His
hand fell on her shoulder and he turned her toward him. His eyes, locked on hers, were gold and blazing.
"Do not say that again," he said with an icy calm that terrified her, even as it fascinated her. "It's
disrespectful of me, as well as yourself. I'm not in the habit of forcing unwilling females, despite what you
must think."

"Sorry," she said quickly, through numb lips. Then, despising her fear, she added coldly, "Remove the
hand."

His hand fell away. "And now I've frightened you," he said with real regret. "Forgive me, Jeannie."

"It's just that, since you don't even know me, I don't see how you can claim to feel anything for me," she
said carefully.

His hand came up slowly, carefully, and when she didn't flinch, settled on her cheek like a dove's touch.
"I do know you," he murmured. "There is much more to you than beauty."

She flushed; against her hot skin, his hand felt cool. "I'm not beautiful."
He laughed. "With all that curly blonde hair?"

"It's frizzy," she corrected him.

"And all those adorable freckles?"

"Ugh."

"And that pale skin, like the richest cream?"

"When I go to the beach I look like a fucking vampire, thanks very much, and could we get off my
looks, please?"

"Then we'll just have to talk about your intelligence and courage and razor wit," he said with faux regret.
"What a bore."

She laughed; she couldn't help it. And immediately bit off the sound.