"Ann Durand - Flight of the Gryphon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Durand Ann)

"Oh," she said.

Dear God. She looks so…vulnerable. He fought an urge to wrap his arms around her…to promise that
no harm would come to her. Instead, he turned back toward the kettle, feigning interest in the broth and
hoping the impulse would pass. For the first time since he'd donned an ulli, he wished he were not
wearing one. They were too revealing. He felt stirrings in his lower body and, in a moment of dread,
realized that his own form was changing inside his ulli. As soon as he could manage it, he'd escape the
room and slip on a pair of regular pants.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, trying to concentrate on the broth.

"Mm. Smells wonderful," she said, wiggling her nose. "Is that kiddik stew?" She moved next to him and
peered into the pot. "Ah, tarola root, yummy."

Her arm brushed against his, and he felt his pulse quicken. Good God, you'd think I'd never stood next
to a woman.

"Yeah. Tarola. Grows all over. In the meadow. Favorite food of the kiddik." Just great . Now I'm
talking in staccato. He looked at her and grimaced. "How would you like to stir this for a while? I'll be
right back."

Without waiting for an answer, he thrust the spoon into her hand and rushed toward the exit at a frenzied
clip. The moment he cleared the room, he leaned back against the tunnel wall and glanced down at his
body. Yep, got out of there just in time. Nothing like giving yourself away , he thought ruefully, as he
fumbled through the dark tunnel without his lanadik, which he'd left behind.

He groped his way into his sleeping chamber, lit the wall lanadik, and rummaged through a wooden box
where he kept his meager supply of clothes. Guess I'll have to keep my ulli off as long as hers stays
on , he thought, wishing now that he hadn't given her one. He located his cotton pants, the only pair he
owned on this planet; the same pair he'd been wearing that day ten years ago when he was cast into this
strange world. He had sequestered off a few ullis from the lab soon after, retired his cotton pants into the
wooden box and had not worn them since. The ullis had served all his needs superbly…until now.

He pulled off his suit, slipped on the old civilian pants and cinched up the belt. What do you know? They
still fit , he thought proudly. At thirty-six, he was in the best shape he'd ever been in. Probably from
chasing all those kiddiks , he thought, smiling as he donned the one shirt he had to go with the pants.
That and dodging Askinadon and all his so-called Kastaks.

Feeling appropriately concealed and more confident in his old pants, he grabbed another lanadik and
headed back to the kitchen. When he found Katera, she was ladling the meat and broth into two wooden
bowls she'd located on a shelf. She'd even spread a Shalpacan cloth over the crude table set out in the
middle of the room. She looked up at him. Their eyes met, and he looked away, feeling stunned all over
again. God, what a beauty.

"You sure disappeared in a hurry," she said, carrying the bowls to the table.

"Yeah. Well, I had to…uh…get something."
"Another outfit?" she asked, eyeing his clothes.