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.Murrin glanced at her. Is heregood? It s fine. Without meaning to, she pulled her hands out of her pockets and started to reach out.She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. It s not a date.I just didn t want you near mymother. Silently, he reached out to open the door. What? She knew she was surly, heard herself being mean.And why shouldn t I? I didn t askfor this.He sighed. I would sooner injure myself than harm your mother, Alana. He motioned for her togo inside. Your happiness, your life, your family.these are what matter to me now. You don t know me. He shrugged. It is simply how things are. But. She stared at him, trying to find words to argue, to make him.what? Argue againsttrying to make me happy? This doesn t make sense. Come sit down.We ll talk. He walked to the far side of the shop, away from the welllitcentral space. There s a table open here. There were other empty tables, but she didn t point them out.She wanted privacy for theirconversation.Asking him how to break some fairy-tale bond was weird enough; doing it with people listeningwas a bit too much.Murrin stopped and pulled out her chair.She sat down, trying not to be touched by his gentlemanly posture or seeming disregard for thegirls and a few guys who were staring at him with blatant interest.He hadn t seemed to noticethem, even when they stopped talking midsentence to smile up at him as he walked by their tables.And who could blame them for looking? Alana might be unhappy being caught in this weirdsituation, but that didn t mean she wasn t just a little dazzled by how very luscious he was not somuch that she would want to stay with him, of course, but her heart sped every time she looked at him.Pretty packages don t mean a thing.None of this matters.He trapped me.Murrin sat down in the chair across from her, watching her with an intensity that made hershiver. What do you want? she asked.He reached out and took her hand. Do you not want to be here? No.I don t want to be here with you. His voice was soothing as he asked, So how can I please you? How do I make you want to bearound me? You can t.I want you to go away. A series of unreadable expressions played over his face, too fleeting to identify, but he didn treply.Instead, he gestured at the giant chalkboard that served as a menu and read off choices. Mocha? Americano? Macchiato?Tea? Milk? She thought about pressing him for the answers she needed, but didn t.Hostility wasn t going towork.Not yet.Fighting wasn t going to get her answers, so she decided to try a different approach:reason.She took a steadying breath. Sure.Mocha.Double shot. She stood to reach into her jeans pocket for money.He jumped up,managing to look far more graceful than anyone she d ever met. Anything with it? No. She unfolded a five from the bills in her pocket and held it out.Instead of taking it, hescowled and stepped away from the table. Hold on. She shook the bill and held her hand farther out. Take this. He gave her another small scowl and shook his head. I cannot. Fine.I ll get my own. She stepped around him.With a speed that shouldn t have been possible, he blocked her path; she stumbled briefly intohim, steadying herself with a hand on his chest.Sighing softly, he put a hand atop hers. May I buy you a cup of coffee, Alana? Please? It doesn tindebt you to me or anything. Reason, she reminded herself.Refusing a cup of coffee is not reasonable.Mutely, she nodded and was rewarded with a warm look.Once he walked away, she sat down and watched him wind through the crowd.He didn t seemfazed by the people jostling him or the crowded tables.He moved through the room easily,unnaturally so.Several times, he glanced at her and at the people seated around her attentivewithout being possessive.Why does it matter? She looked at him with an unfamiliar longing, knowing he wasn t reallyhers, knowing she didn t want to be tied to him but still feeling a strange wistfulness.Is it a selchiething? She forced her gaze away and started thinking again of what to say, which questions to ask,how to undo the mess they were in.A few minutes later, and again without any visible effort, Murrinmoved through the crowd until he reached her, balancing two cups and a plate atop each one.The firstplate had a thick sandwich; the second one was stacked high with brownies, cookies, and squares ofchocolate.He handed her the mocha. Thank you, she murmured.He nodded, sat down, and slid the plates to the center of the table between them. I thought youmight want to eat something. She looked at the plate of desserts and the sandwich. This is all for me? I didn t know what you d like best. You to leave, she said.His expression was serious. I can t do that.Please, Alana, you need to understand.This is howit s been for centuries.I didn t intend for you to be entrapped, but I can t walk away.I am notphysically able to do so. Could you take it back? Your, umm, skin? She held her breath.He looked at her sadly again;his eyes seemed as wetblack as the sea at night. If I find it where you ve hidden it without youintending me to do so.Pure coincidence.Or if I m angry enough to search after you ve struck me threetimes.Yes, there are ways, but it s not likely.You can t help hiding it, and I can t search for itwithout cause. Alana had suspected known it wasn t something she could easily escape, but she still neededto ask, to hear him tell her.She felt tears sting her eyes. So what do we do? We get to know each other.I hope you discover you want me to be near you.You hope I saysomething that helps you find a way to get rid of me. He sounded so sad when he said it that she feltguilty. That, too, is how it s been for centuries. The next hour passed in fits and starts of conversation.Periodically, Alana relaxed.Murrin could see that she was enjoying herself, but each time shenoticed she was doing so, he saw a shadow of irritation flit over her face, and she put her walls backup.She swayed toward him, but then darted away from him.Hers was a strong will, and as much ashe respected it, he despaired that her strength was set against him.He watched the tilt of her head when she was listening; he heard the rhythm of her words whenshe spoke of her life on shore.He knew that it was a conscious machination that she was assessingthe situation in order to get free of him.But he had learned patience and flexibility in the sea.Thosewere skills that every selchie needed in order to survive.Murrin s father had warned that they wereequally essential in relationships, and though Murrin hadn t thought he d follow his father s way, he dlistened.Tonight he was glad he had.Finally, the shop was empty of everyone but them, and Alana was yawning. You need to rest, Alana. He stood and waited for her.Her eyes were fatigue-heavy.Perhaps a good night s sleep would help them both.She didn t look at him, but her guard was low enough that she accepted his hand and gaspedsoftly when she did.Murrin froze, waiting for her to determine their next action.He had no answer, no clue how torespond.No one had warned him that the mere touch of her hand would evoke such a feeling: he dfight until his last breath to keep her near him, to keep her safe, to make her happy.It was akin to thesea, this feeling that pulled at him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Murrin glanced at her. Is heregood? It s fine. Without meaning to, she pulled her hands out of her pockets and started to reach out.She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. It s not a date.I just didn t want you near mymother. Silently, he reached out to open the door. What? She knew she was surly, heard herself being mean.And why shouldn t I? I didn t askfor this.He sighed. I would sooner injure myself than harm your mother, Alana. He motioned for her togo inside. Your happiness, your life, your family.these are what matter to me now. You don t know me. He shrugged. It is simply how things are. But. She stared at him, trying to find words to argue, to make him.what? Argue againsttrying to make me happy? This doesn t make sense. Come sit down.We ll talk. He walked to the far side of the shop, away from the welllitcentral space. There s a table open here. There were other empty tables, but she didn t point them out.She wanted privacy for theirconversation.Asking him how to break some fairy-tale bond was weird enough; doing it with people listeningwas a bit too much.Murrin stopped and pulled out her chair.She sat down, trying not to be touched by his gentlemanly posture or seeming disregard for thegirls and a few guys who were staring at him with blatant interest.He hadn t seemed to noticethem, even when they stopped talking midsentence to smile up at him as he walked by their tables.And who could blame them for looking? Alana might be unhappy being caught in this weirdsituation, but that didn t mean she wasn t just a little dazzled by how very luscious he was not somuch that she would want to stay with him, of course, but her heart sped every time she looked at him.Pretty packages don t mean a thing.None of this matters.He trapped me.Murrin sat down in the chair across from her, watching her with an intensity that made hershiver. What do you want? she asked.He reached out and took her hand. Do you not want to be here? No.I don t want to be here with you. His voice was soothing as he asked, So how can I please you? How do I make you want to bearound me? You can t.I want you to go away. A series of unreadable expressions played over his face, too fleeting to identify, but he didn treply.Instead, he gestured at the giant chalkboard that served as a menu and read off choices. Mocha? Americano? Macchiato?Tea? Milk? She thought about pressing him for the answers she needed, but didn t.Hostility wasn t going towork.Not yet.Fighting wasn t going to get her answers, so she decided to try a different approach:reason.She took a steadying breath. Sure.Mocha.Double shot. She stood to reach into her jeans pocket for money.He jumped up,managing to look far more graceful than anyone she d ever met. Anything with it? No. She unfolded a five from the bills in her pocket and held it out.Instead of taking it, hescowled and stepped away from the table. Hold on. She shook the bill and held her hand farther out. Take this. He gave her another small scowl and shook his head. I cannot. Fine.I ll get my own. She stepped around him.With a speed that shouldn t have been possible, he blocked her path; she stumbled briefly intohim, steadying herself with a hand on his chest.Sighing softly, he put a hand atop hers. May I buy you a cup of coffee, Alana? Please? It doesn tindebt you to me or anything. Reason, she reminded herself.Refusing a cup of coffee is not reasonable.Mutely, she nodded and was rewarded with a warm look.Once he walked away, she sat down and watched him wind through the crowd.He didn t seemfazed by the people jostling him or the crowded tables.He moved through the room easily,unnaturally so.Several times, he glanced at her and at the people seated around her attentivewithout being possessive.Why does it matter? She looked at him with an unfamiliar longing, knowing he wasn t reallyhers, knowing she didn t want to be tied to him but still feeling a strange wistfulness.Is it a selchiething? She forced her gaze away and started thinking again of what to say, which questions to ask,how to undo the mess they were in.A few minutes later, and again without any visible effort, Murrinmoved through the crowd until he reached her, balancing two cups and a plate atop each one.The firstplate had a thick sandwich; the second one was stacked high with brownies, cookies, and squares ofchocolate.He handed her the mocha. Thank you, she murmured.He nodded, sat down, and slid the plates to the center of the table between them. I thought youmight want to eat something. She looked at the plate of desserts and the sandwich. This is all for me? I didn t know what you d like best. You to leave, she said.His expression was serious. I can t do that.Please, Alana, you need to understand.This is howit s been for centuries.I didn t intend for you to be entrapped, but I can t walk away.I am notphysically able to do so. Could you take it back? Your, umm, skin? She held her breath.He looked at her sadly again;his eyes seemed as wetblack as the sea at night. If I find it where you ve hidden it without youintending me to do so.Pure coincidence.Or if I m angry enough to search after you ve struck me threetimes.Yes, there are ways, but it s not likely.You can t help hiding it, and I can t search for itwithout cause. Alana had suspected known it wasn t something she could easily escape, but she still neededto ask, to hear him tell her.She felt tears sting her eyes. So what do we do? We get to know each other.I hope you discover you want me to be near you.You hope I saysomething that helps you find a way to get rid of me. He sounded so sad when he said it that she feltguilty. That, too, is how it s been for centuries. The next hour passed in fits and starts of conversation.Periodically, Alana relaxed.Murrin could see that she was enjoying herself, but each time shenoticed she was doing so, he saw a shadow of irritation flit over her face, and she put her walls backup.She swayed toward him, but then darted away from him.Hers was a strong will, and as much ashe respected it, he despaired that her strength was set against him.He watched the tilt of her head when she was listening; he heard the rhythm of her words whenshe spoke of her life on shore.He knew that it was a conscious machination that she was assessingthe situation in order to get free of him.But he had learned patience and flexibility in the sea.Thosewere skills that every selchie needed in order to survive.Murrin s father had warned that they wereequally essential in relationships, and though Murrin hadn t thought he d follow his father s way, he dlistened.Tonight he was glad he had.Finally, the shop was empty of everyone but them, and Alana was yawning. You need to rest, Alana. He stood and waited for her.Her eyes were fatigue-heavy.Perhaps a good night s sleep would help them both.She didn t look at him, but her guard was low enough that she accepted his hand and gaspedsoftly when she did.Murrin froze, waiting for her to determine their next action.He had no answer, no clue how torespond.No one had warned him that the mere touch of her hand would evoke such a feeling: he dfight until his last breath to keep her near him, to keep her safe, to make her happy.It was akin to thesea, this feeling that pulled at him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]