"Mary Janice Davidson - Wyndham Werewolves 03 - Derik's Bane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

sapiens what a hot fudge sundae was to vanilla ice cream: a complete and total improvement on the
original. A full head taller than she was, he practically filled the door frame. His blond hair was the color
of sunlight, of ripe wheat, ofтАФof something really gorgeous. He had swimmers' shoulders and she could
actually see the definition of his stomach muscles through the green T-shirt he wore. The shirt had the
puzzling logo "Martha Rocks" in bright white letters. He was wearing khaki shorts, revealing heavily
muscled legs tapering into absurdly large feet, sock-less in a pair of battered loafers. His hands, she
noticed, were also quite large, with squared off fingers and blunt, short nails.
He was lightly tanned and had the look of a man equally at home camping in the woods, lounging
poolside, or hunched over a. computer. His eyes were the brilliant green of wet leaves, and they sparkled
with turbulence and lusty good humor. His mouth was wide and mobile and looked made for smiling.

He was smiling ather.

Get a grip,she ordered herself. She was annoyed to find her pulse was racing.It is unbelievably
juvenile to be panting at this man, when all he's done is ring your bell twice and stand there. He
hasn't even opened his mouth and you're practically a puddle on your own doorstep. He тАФoh, oh!
He's talking!

"тАФwrong house."

"What did you say?"

"I said, I must have the wrong house." His smile widened, as his gaze raked her from head to foot, taking
in her bare legs, scuffed shoes, rumpled suit, and messy hair. His teeth were perfectly straight, almost
blindingly white, and looked sharp. The guy probably ate his steak raw. He could make a fortune doing
Chiclets commercials. "I'm sorry to bother you."

"No, you've got the right house. I've been waiting for the loaner." She nodded at the flashy little blue
convertible. "The other profs are going to accuse me of entering my midlife crisis a little early, but what
can you do? Come in. How are you getting back to the garage?"

He stepped inside, and as she reached past him to shut the screen door, she was reminded all over
againтАФas if she needed it!тАФjust how large he was. She was not a petite woman by any meansтАФ in fact,
she ought to lay off the chocolate croissantsтАФbut he made her feel absolutely tiny. She caught a sniff of
him and nearly purred. He smelled like soap and male. Big, clean male.

He glanced around her kitchen. "Listen, I don't want to put you out, but can you tell me which house is
number6 Fairy Lane?"

"It's this one," she said with bare impatience. Gorgeous, but not terribly bright. Well, nobody was
perfect. "I told you, you're in the right place. I'm running late for rounds, so if you could just arrange to
have someone pick you upтАФ"

"Yeah, I'll do that. 'Cuz there's obviously been a mistake."

"Tell me about it," she said, looking at him with longing. In a perfect world, he would be her pool boy.
Instead, she was late for work and he had to hitch a ride back to his place of business. "Well, thanks for
dropping off the carтАФsee you."

He followed her onto the porch. "It was nice meeting you. Sorry about the misunderstanding." But,