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- Э. Л. Джеймс
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- Стр. 32/797
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He
arches
a
brow
.
“
What
is
your
thing
,
Anastasia
?
”
he
asks
,
his
voice
soft
,
and
his
secret
smile
is
back
.
I
gaze
at
him
,
unable
to
express
myself
.
I
’
m
on
shifting
tectonic
plates
.
Try
to
be
cool
,
Ana
,
my
tortured
subconscious
begs
on
bended
knee
.
“
Books
,
”
I
whisper
,
but
inside
,
my
subconscious
is
screaming
:
You
!
You
are
my
thing
!
I
slap
it
down
instantly
,
mortified
that
my
psyche
is
having
ideas
way
out
of
its
league
.
“
What
kind
of
books
?
”
He
cocks
his
head
to
one
side
.
Why
is
he
so
interested
?
“
Oh
,
you
know
.
The
usual
.
The
classics
.
British
literature
,
mainly
.
”
He
rubs
his
chin
with
his
long
index
finger
and
thumb
as
he
contemplates
my
answer
.
Or
perhaps
he
’
s
just
very
bored
and
trying
to
hide
it
.
“
Anything
else
you
need
?
”
I
have
to
get
off
this
subject
—
those
fingers
on
that
face
are
beguiling
.
“
I
don
’
t
know
.
What
else
would
you
recommend
?
”
What
would
I
recommend
?
I
don
’
t
even
know
what
you
’
re
doing
.
“
For
a
do
-
it
-
yourselfer
?
”
