"Mercedes Lackey & Ellen Guon - Knights of Ghosts and Shadows" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

Too damn cute for his own good, that's Eric Banyan. He
attracts too many women who think that sweet face means
he's malleable. They don't look past the face to the eyes,
the eyes watching for somebody who might put fetters on
him. They look at the generosity, and they think he's theirs
for the taking. He'll give you anything, all right; anything
but himself. That part of him that he won't let anyone see,
or touch . . .

"She was getting hot, I guess, and sweaty, and she
wanted to know how much longer I was going to be out
here. I told her all weekend. Then she wanted to know
where the motel was. I said there wasn't one, and I told
her about my campsite."

Oh boy, the operatic soprano hothouse-plant meets
reality.

"I can hear the storm brewing already," Beth remarked
sagely, since he seemed to be waiting for her to say
something.

"Yeah." He took another swig, and his eyes took on
their habitual expression of wariness. "Then when I was
checking the schedules backstage, she wanted to know
how long this was gonna go on. I told her. Then I said I
was thinking about hitting Northern Faire in the fall,
maybe stay up in SanFran after, if the busking was good. I
didn't get a chance to tell her I'd be back by Thanksgiving,
'cause that was when the excrement hit the rotating blades."

Beth shook her head, and recaptured her flask. "Eric,
Eric, you lovable idiot . . ." She took a swig. "If I was
planning on setting up a fight between the two of you, I
couldn't have managed it better. You probably punched
every button she has."

This one is obtuse even for you, sweetie. First you let
her think you're planning on a long-term relationship,
then start wandering off at odd intervals, then casually


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tell her you may be cruising on outтАФwithout herтАФthis
fall. Banyon, you definitely take the prize.

"I don't see why," he said, obviously nettled. "She knew