"Joanna Wylde - Saurellian 5 - Jerred's Price" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wylde Joanna)

her a pointed look, which she ignored. Cleavage sold drinks—he knew that. She was
just doing her job.
On her next pass through the tables she ignored Black Leather, focusing on the
Debsians instead. She leaned over as she served the traders, flashing them a wide
expansion of soft, sloping breast littered with ginger-colored freckles. Out of the corner
of her eye, she caught Black Leather’s stare. She pretended not to see, and then leaned
forward even further.
“Anything else I can get you boys?” she asked in a low voice, winking at the
loudest of the traders. He was a bluff, friendly looking man who didn’t seem used to
getting attention from women. His friends hooted, and one slapped him on the back.
Encouraged, the man leaned forward and held out two fingers with a credit chit
between them.
“This is all yours, darlin’,” he said. “I don’t suppose you want to come back to my
hostel with me?”


5
 Joanna Wylde


“Nope,” she said with a wink, “I’m not really that kind of girl. But I appreciate the
offer.”
The men groaned, and then, to her surprise, their leader reached out and tucked the
credit chit between her breasts. She drew in a breath, about to let him have it, when she
caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She had Black Leather’s full attention
now. Feeling pleased with herself, she laughed and stood up.
“Thanks, sweetie,” she said, picking up her tray and balancing it against one full
hip. “I appreciate the tip.”
“Another round!” one of the traders said in a loud voice, face flushed from drink.
“We’ll keep you busy tonight!” They all broke into a round of cheers, thumping the
table for emphasis. Feeling pleased with herself, she sashayed away from the Debsians
toward the two men against the wall. Vetch waved her away from them, but she came
over, pretending to misunderstand his gesture.
“Can I get you boys anything?” she asked. Black Leather shook his head, darkness
filling his face. Vetch looked a little nervous, and Black Leather leaned back in his chair,
lifting one arm casually and laying it on the seat back behind him. Her eyes ran down
his body languidly. Then they stopped. He had a blaster holstered against his side. The
jacket had hidden it from her sight when she’d first come in.
Damn.
Manya had a security screen on the door. Why hadn’t it picked up his weapon? She
felt the smile fade from her face, growing uncomfortable under his steady, cold gaze.
“We ask our customers to check their weapons before coming in here,” she said
uncertainly, looking toward the bar for backup. Manya was deep in conversation with
Kisti, the other barmaid. Neither looked in her direction. “It’s against station regulations
to have a blaster in an establishment that serves alcohol. It’s a serious offense.”
“I prefer to keep my blaster with me,” he replied in a cool voice. She glanced at
Vetch, saw him swallow, and then nodded her head, feeling sick. Black Leather was
trouble. She had sensed that from the start, why hadn’t she trusted her instincts? Damn
men.
“All right, then,” she said, trying to smile. “I’ll leave you to your drinks.”