Commentaires de livres faits par mat_crp
Extraits de livres par mat_crp
Commentaires de livres appréciés par mat_crp
Extraits de livres appréciés par mat_crp
"Ready to get coffee?" she chirped.
He nodded distractedly, barely looking at her. [...]
"Did you have a good week?"
"Fine."
Okay."Hum... did you do anything fun last weekend?"
"I worked."
They got in line to order, and it was all Olive could do to stop herself from sighing. "Weather's nice, right? Not too hot."
He grunted in response.
It was starting to be a bit too much. There was a limit to what Olive would do for this fake-dating relationship-even for a free mango Frappuccino. She sighed. "Is is because of the haircut?"
That got his attention. Adam looked down at her, a vertical line deep between his eyebrows. "What?"
"The mood. Is it because of the haircut?"
"What mood?"
Olive gestured broadly toward him. "This. The bad mood you're in".
"I'm not in a bad mood."
She snorted-though that was probably not the right term for what she just did. It was too loud and derisive, more like a laugh. A snaugh.
"What?" He frowned, unappreciative of her snaugh.
"Come on."
"What?"
"You ooze moodiness."
"I do not." He sounded indignant, which struck her as oddly endearing.
"You do so. I saw that face, and I immediately knew."
"You did not."
"I did. I do. But it's fine, you're allowed to be in a bad mood."
It was their turn, so she took a step forward and smiled at the cashier.
"Good morning. I'll have a pumpkin spice latte. And that creamy cheese danish over there. Yep, that one, thank you. And"-she pointed at Adam with her thumb-"he'll have chamomile tea. No sugar," she added cheerfully. She immediately took a few steps to the side, hoping to avoid damage in case Adam decided to throw a petri dish at her. She was surprised when he calmly handed his credit card to the boy behind the counter. Really, he wasn't as bad as they made him out to be.
"I hate tea", he said. "And chamomile."
Olive beamed up at him. "That is unfortunate."
Chap.4-Préface
Chap.3-Préface
Chap.3-Préface
- Non, mais vous allez quand même de la dire, pas vrai ? "
- Charme et irrévérence- mes deux traits de caractère préférés", fit celle-ci, en adressant cette fois un clin d'oeil à Thirion.
Le sourire du triton s'élargit. "Prenez garde, Bryce. Je pourrais fort bien décider de vous emporter dans les profondeurs de ce fleuve."
- C'est très surfait ", lui lança Ruhn par dessus son épaule.
- Elle est à ", fit Hunt. Son odeur s'attardait encore sur le trottoir, un mélange de lilas et de noix de muscade, plus quelque chose qu'il n'arrivait pas à situer - quelque chose comme la lueur des premières étoiles à la tombée de la nuit.
Et en effet, un instant plus tard, une voie féminine soyeuse - qui n'appartenait clairement pas à la propriétaire de la galerie - crépita dans l'interphone. "Je n'ai pas commandé de pizza."
Malgré lui, malgré le tic-tac de son horloge mentale, Hunt s'étouffa de rire.
Affichant un sourire charmeur, Isaïe fit bruire ses ailes blanches et dit dans l'interphone : "Nous sommes de la 33e Légion. Nous venons voir Bryce Quinlan."
La voix se tendit. " Je suis avec des clients. Revenez plus tard. "
Hunt était à peu près sûr que cela voulait dire Allez vous faire foutre.
Le sourire d'Isaïe se figea. "Il s'agit d'une affaire passablement urgente, mademoiselle Quinlan."
Un bourdonnement grave. "Désolée, mais vous allez devoir prendre rendez-vous. Pourquoi pas dans... trois semaines ? J'ai des disponibilités le 28 avril. Je vous inscris pour midi."
Bon, elle avait des couilles - il fallait lui accorder ça.