"Esther M. Friesner - Chicks 05 - Turn The Other Chick" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

Suzanne opened her mouth but nothing came out.

Calliope peered ahead and smiled. "Here comes a rider! What adventurous prospects!"

"A rider?" Suzanne glanced around frantically. "I have to hide."

"Nonsense. You have a sword."

"A sword?" Suzanne glanced down at Guardian, swinging forgotten at her side.

"And your armor," Calliope added. "I'd try to avoid getting hit, nonetheless."

"Thank you." Suzanne drew Guardian and stood in what she hoped was a confident posture as the rider
drew closer. It soon became apparent that the rider was male and, from his expression, in a foul mood.

Instead of veering his horse slightly to the side to avoid Suzanne, he aimed a kick at her. "Get out of the
way!" As she dodged the kick, he took another look. "Hey. A babe. Out here all alone?"

Suzanne gritted her teeth. "And planning to stay that way."

The man grinned unpleasantly. "What's with the armor, babe? It just gets in the way."

Suzanne's eyes narrowed. "It helps protect me from jerks."

"Ah, that's no way to be. I bet you're hungry, huh?"

"Not that hungry." Suzanne tried to ignore the growling in her stomach, but it was obvious the rider heard
it.

He rummaged in his pack and surfaced with an oblong object. "What say we make a trade? I give you
this, and you give me something in return."

"Is that chocolate?" Suzanne stared at the bar. "Trade? What do you want?"

The grin grew into a leer. "Like I said, that armor gets in the way. Take it off."

"That's all? Take off my armor?"

"Then take off everything else. You'll get the chocolate when I'm done."

Suzanne's temper boiled over. "I'm tired and hungry and out in the middle of nowhere and you dare treat
me like some kind of slut who'd sell herself for a single bar of chocolate?"

The rider frowned. "I've got two bars if that'sтАФ"
 "Ahhhh!" Losing all control, Suzanne leaped at the rider, her sword swinging. The flat of the blade caught
the surprised man on the side of his head, tumbling him from the saddle. "Not for two bars! Not even for
three! I'm not a slut!" She stood over him where he lay in the road, her sword poised, her face glowing
with rage.

The man stared up at her, fear filling his face. "What . . . what are you?"