Eclipse - Meyer Stephenie (бесплатные онлайн книги читаем полные версии TXT) 📗

“All of you just seem so convinced that the only thing I’m going to be interested in, afterward, is slaughtering everyone in town,” I confessed, while he winced at my choice of words. “And I’m afraid I’ll be so preoccupied with the mayhem that I won’t be me anymore . . . and that I won’t . . . I won’t want you the same way I do now.”

“Bella, that part doesn’t last forever,” he assured me.

He was missing the point.

“Edward,” I said, nervous, staring at a freckle on my wrist. “There’s something that I want to do before I’m not human anymore.”

He waited for me to continue. I didn’t. My face was all hot.

“Whatever you want,” he encouraged, anxious and completely clueless.

“Do you promise?” I muttered, knowing my attempt to trap him with his words was not going to work, but unable to resist.

“Yes,” he said. I looked up to see that his eyes were earnest and confused. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”

I couldn’t believe how awkward and idiotic I felt. I was too innocent — which was, of course, central to the discussion. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to be seductive. I would just have to settle for flushed and self-conscious.

“You,” I mumbled almost incoherently.

“I’m yours.” He smiled, still oblivious, trying to hold my gaze as I looked away again.

I took a deep breath and shifted forward so that I was kneeling on the bed. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

He kissed me back, bewildered but willing. His lips were gentle against mine, and I could tell his mind was elsewhere — trying to figure out what was on my mind. I decided he needed a hint.

My hands were slightly shaky as I unlocked my arms from around his neck. My fingers slid down his neck to the collar of his shirt. The trembling didn’t help as I tried to hurry to undo the buttons before he stopped me.

His lips froze, and I could almost hear the click in his head as he put together my words and my actions.

He pushed me away at once, his face heavily disapproving.

“Be reasonable, Bella.”

“You promised — whatever I wanted,” I reminded him without hope.

“We’re not having this discussion.” He glared at me while he refastened the two buttons I’d managed to open.

My teeth clamped together.

“I say we are,” I growled. I moved my hands to my blouse and yanked open the top button.

He grabbed my wrists and pinned them to my sides.

“I say we’re not,” he said flatly.

We glowered at each other.

“You wanted to know,” I pointed out.

“I thought it would be something faintly realistic.”

“So you can ask for any stupid, ridiculous thing you want — like getting married — but I’m not allowed to even discuss what I —”

While I was ranting, he pulled my hands together to restrain them in just one of his, and put his other hand over my mouth.

“No.” His face was hard.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. And, as the anger began to fade, I felt something else.

It took me a minute to recognize why I was staring down again, the blush returning — why my stomach felt uneasy, why there was too much moisture in my eyes, why I suddenly wanted to run from the room.

Rejection washed through me, instinctive and strong.

I knew it was irrational. He’d been very clear on other occasions that my safety was the only factor. Yet I’d never made myself quite so vulnerable before. I scowled at the golden comforter that matched his eyes and tried to banish the reflex reaction that told me I was unwanted and unwantable.

Edward sighed. The hand over my mouth moved under my chin, and he pulled my face up until I had to look at him.

“What now?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled.

He scrutinized my face for long moment while I tried unsuccessfully to twist away from his gaze. His brow furrowed, and his expression became horrified.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” he asked, shocked.

“No,” I lied.

So quickly that I wasn’t even sure how it happened, I was in his arms, my face cradled between his shoulder and his hand, while his thumb stroked reassuringly against my cheek.

“You know why I have to say no,” he murmured. “You know that I want you, too.”

“Do you?” I whispered, my voice full of doubt.

“Of course I do, you silly, beautiful, oversensitive girl.” He laughed once, and then his voice was bleak. “Doesn’t everyone? I feel like there’s a line behind me, jockeying for position, waiting for me to make a big enough mistake. . . . You’re too desirable for your own good.”

“Who’s being silly now?” I doubted if awkward, self-conscious, and inept added up to desirable in anyone’s book.

“Do I have to send a petition around to get you to believe? Shall I tell you whose names would be on the top of the list? You know a few of them, but some might surprise you.”

I shook my head against his chest, grimacing. “You’re just trying to distract me. Let’s get back to the subject.”

He sighed.

“Tell me if I have anything wrong.” I tried to sound detached. “Your demands are marriage” — I couldn’t say the word without making a face — “paying my tuition, more time, and you wouldn’t mind if my vehicle went a little faster.” I raised my eyebrows. “Did I get everything? That’s a hefty list.”

“Only the first is a demand.” He seemed to be having a hard time keeping a straight face. “The others are merely requests.”

“And my lone, solitary little demand is —”

“Demand?” he interrupted, suddenly serious again.

“Yes, demand.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Getting married is a stretch for me. I’m not giving in unless I get something in return.”

He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “No,” he murmured silkily. “It’s not possible now. Later, when you’re less breakable. Be patient, Bella.”

I tried to keep my voice firm and reasonable. “But that’s the problem. It won’t be the same when I’m less breakable. I won’t be the same! I don’t know who I’ll be then.”

“You’ll still be Bella,” he promised.

I frowned. “If I’m so far gone that I’d want to kill Charlie — that I’d drink Jacob’s blood or Angela’s if I got the chance — how can that be true?”

“It will pass. And I doubt you’ll want to drink the dog’s blood.” He pretended to shudder at the thought. “Even as a newborn, you’ll have better taste than that.”

I ignored his attempt to sidetrack me. “But that will always be what I want most, won’t it?” I challenged. “Blood, blood, and more blood!”

“The fact that you are still alive is proof that that is not true,” he pointed out.

“Over eighty years later,” I reminded him. “What I meant was physically, though. Intellectually, I know I’ll be able to be myself . . . after a while. But just purely physically — I will always be thirsty, more than anything else.”

He didn’t answer.

“So I will be different,” I concluded unopposed. “Because right now, physically, there’s nothing I want more than you. More than food or water or oxygen. Intellectually, I have my priorities in a slightly more sensible order. But physically . . .”

I twisted my head to kiss the palm of his hand.

He took a deep breath. I was surprised that it sounded a little unsteady.

“Bella, I could kill you,” he whispered.

“I don’t think you could.”

Edward’s eyes tightened. He lifted his hand from my face and reached quickly behind himself for something I couldn’t see. There was a muffled snapping sound, and the bed quivered beneath us.

Something dark was in his hand; he held it up for my curious examination. It was a metal flower, one of the roses that adorned the wrought iron posts and canopy of his bed frame. His hand closed for a brief second, his fingers contracting gently, and then it opened again.

Without a word, he offered me the crushed, uneven lump of black metal. It was a cast of the inside of his hand, like a piece of play dough squeezed in a child’s fist. A half-second passed, and the shape crumbled into black sand in his palm.

I glared. “That’s not what I meant. I already know how strong you are. You didn’t have to break the furniture.”

“What did you mean then?” he asked in a dark voice, tossing the handful of iron sand to the corner of the room; it hit the wall with a sound like rain.

His eyes were intent on my face as I struggled to explain.

“Obviously not that you aren’t physically able hurt me, if you wanted to . . . More that, you don’t want to hurt me . . . so much so that I don’t think that you ever could.”

He started shaking his head before I was done.

“It might not work like that, Bella.”

“Might,” I scoffed. “You have no more idea what you’re talking about than I do.”

“Exactly. Do you imagine I would ever take that kind of risk with you?”

I stared into his eyes for a long minute. There was no sign of compromise, no hint of indecision in them.

“Please,” I finally whispered, hopeless. “It’s all I want. Please.” I closed my eyes in defeat, waiting for the quick and final no.

But he didn’t answer immediately. I hesitated in disbelief, stunned to hear that his breathing was uneven again.

I opened my eyes, and his face was torn.

“Please?” I whispered again, my heartbeat picking up speed. My words tumbled out as I rushed to take advantage of the sudden uncertainty in his eyes. “You don’t have to make me any guarantees. If it doesn’t work out right, well, then that’s that. Just let us try . . . only try. And I’ll give you what you want,” I promised rashly. “I’ll marry you. I’ll let you pay for Dartmouth, and I won’t complain about the bribe to get me in. You can even buy me a fast car if that makes you happy! Just . . . please.”

His icy arms tightened around me, and his lips were at my ear; his cool breath made me shiver. “This is unbearable. So many things I’ve wanted to give you — and this is what you decide to demand. Do you have any idea how painful it is, trying to refuse you when you plead with me this way?”

“Then don’t refuse,” I suggested breathlessly.

He didn’t respond.

“Please,” I tried again.

“Bella . . .” He shook his head slowly, but it didn’t feel like a denial as his face, his lips, moved back and forth across my throat. It felt more like surrender. My heart, racing already, spluttered frantically.

Again, I took what advantage I could. When his face turned toward mine with the slow movement of his indecision, I twisted quickly in his arms till my lips reached his. His hands seized my face, and I thought he was going to push me away again.