The_Color_of_Love_-_Radclyffe (Рэдклифф) - страница 88

Derian tried the tea. It was surprisingly fragrant but not the least bit cloying. Full and aromatic. “I’ve never been a tea drinker, but I think this might persuade me differently.”

“It’s practically the national drink where I grew up. High tea is one of the customs left over from colonialism that is still embraced in Singapore. I enjoy coffee, but I find it’s only good when taken sparingly. Like so many things.”

“Not necessarily a popular sentiment.”

“And you’re dissembling again.” Emily pointed a finger. “What do you mean, a woman like me?” Emily wasn’t fishing for compliments. She was genuinely curious. Oh, she wanted Derian to be interested. She wasn’t so self-deluding as to deny that. Having the interest of a beautiful woman was not something she could ignore or pretend she didn’t want. But she so rarely wondered how others thought of her, she couldn’t fathom what clues—or what secrets—she’d exposed.

“A woman of substance.”

“Oh,” Emily said with mock horror. “That sounds ghastly. Stodgy and boring and—you make me sound like a stereotypical librarian.”

Grinning, Derian looked around and tilted her chin in the direction of an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling bookcases, every shelf filled and many overfilled with books. “Observe.”

“Of course I love books,” Emily said. “Why on earth would I do what I do if I didn’t?”

Derian took Emily’s hand and gave it a playful shake. “I’ve never in my life known a librarian who looks like you.”

“Nice try, but you obviously haven’t met many librarians. Contrary to the stereotype, many of them are far more attractive and interesting than me.”

“I doubt that,” Derian murmured.

Emily’s playful protests flew from her mind. She’d never known she was so susceptible to flattery, but every time Derian looked at her as if she were seeing someone beautiful and intriguing, Emily was transported into a world of possibility she’d never imagined. She felt sexy and desirable and desirous. She swallowed. “You have a way of making me forget myself.”

Derian played her thumb over Emily’s knuckles. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I really don’t know. It’s unique.”

“Good. I’d hate to be ordinary where you’re concerned.”

“Oh, believe me. You’re anything but that.”

“And to answer your question,” Derian said with unusual seriousness, “I already know you’re strong and independent and determined. I also know you’re kind and loyal and generous. All of those things to me equal substance. You wouldn’t find a steady diet of parties, cocktail conversation, and the constant striving for greater and greater thrills very interesting.”