JК
The Lunatic Cafe :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 126 из 234He was still Richard. With his love of the outdoors, any activity that would get you messy, and a smile that warmed me to my toes. I wasn't sure I could marry him, but I was positive I couldn't let anybody kill him.
"Yes."
"You won't marry me, but you'll kill for me. I don't understand that."
"Ask me if I still love you, Richard. That answer's still yes."
"How can I let you face him alone?"
"I've been doing just fine without you."
He touched my forehead, and I winced. "You don't took fine."
"Jean-Claude won't hurt me."
"You don't know that for sure," he said.
He had a point there. "You can't protect me, Richard. Your being there will get us both killed."
"I can't let you go alone."
"Don't go all manly on me, Richard. It's a luxury that we can't afford. If saying yes to marriage is going to make you behave like an idiot, it can be changed."
"You took back your yes."
"It's not a definite no, either," I said.
"Just trying to protect you would make you say no?"
"I don't need your protection, Richard. I don't even want it."
He leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. "If I play the white knight, you'll leave me."
"If you think you need to play the white knight, then you don't know me at all."
He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me. "Maybe I want to be your white knight."
"That's your problem."
He smiled. "I guess so."
"If you can drive the Jeep back to my apartment, I'll take a cab."
"Stephen can drive you," he said. He volunteered him without even wondering what Stephen would say about it. It was arrogant.
"No, I'll take a cab."
"I don't mind," Stephen said. "I'm due back at Guilty Pleasures tonight anyway."
I glanced at him. "What do you do for a living, Stephen?"
He laid his cheek on his forearm and smiled at me. He managed to look winsome and sexy at the same time. "I'm a stripper," he said.
Of course he was. I wanted to point out that he'd refused to be in a pornographic movie, but he still stripped. But taking your clothes off down to tasteful undies was not the same thing as having sex on screen. Not even close.
23
Lillian was a small woman in her mid-fifties. Her salt-and-pepper hair was cut short and neat in a no-nonsense style. Her fingers were as quick and sure as the rest of her. The last time she'd treated my wounds, she'd had claws and greying fur.
"Yes."
"You won't marry me, but you'll kill for me. I don't understand that."
"Ask me if I still love you, Richard. That answer's still yes."
"How can I let you face him alone?"
"I've been doing just fine without you."
He touched my forehead, and I winced. "You don't took fine."
"Jean-Claude won't hurt me."
"You don't know that for sure," he said.
He had a point there. "You can't protect me, Richard. Your being there will get us both killed."
"I can't let you go alone."
"Don't go all manly on me, Richard. It's a luxury that we can't afford. If saying yes to marriage is going to make you behave like an idiot, it can be changed."
"You took back your yes."
"It's not a definite no, either," I said.
"Just trying to protect you would make you say no?"
"I don't need your protection, Richard. I don't even want it."
He leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. "If I play the white knight, you'll leave me."
"If you think you need to play the white knight, then you don't know me at all."
He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me. "Maybe I want to be your white knight."
"That's your problem."
He smiled. "I guess so."
"If you can drive the Jeep back to my apartment, I'll take a cab."
"Stephen can drive you," he said. He volunteered him without even wondering what Stephen would say about it. It was arrogant.
"No, I'll take a cab."
"I don't mind," Stephen said. "I'm due back at Guilty Pleasures tonight anyway."
I glanced at him. "What do you do for a living, Stephen?"
He laid his cheek on his forearm and smiled at me. He managed to look winsome and sexy at the same time. "I'm a stripper," he said.
Of course he was. I wanted to point out that he'd refused to be in a pornographic movie, but he still stripped. But taking your clothes off down to tasteful undies was not the same thing as having sex on screen. Not even close.
23
Lillian was a small woman in her mid-fifties. Her salt-and-pepper hair was cut short and neat in a no-nonsense style. Her fingers were as quick and sure as the rest of her. The last time she'd treated my wounds, she'd had claws and greying fur.