“You know what? I’ll just wait here”.
“Hmmm…”, he mused as he quickly finished. “It seems I’m going to have to tamper with your memory“.
“Tamper with my memory?” I asked nervously.
“Something like that”. He was watching me intently, carefully, but there was humor deep in his eyes. He placed his hands against the Jeep on either side of my head and leaned forward, forcing me to press back against the door. He leaned in even closer, his face inches from mine. I had no room to escape.
“Now”, he breathed, and just his smell disturbed my thought processes, “what exactly are you worrying about?”
“Well, um, hitting a tree” – I gulped – “and dying. And then getting sick.”
He fought back a smile. Then he bent his head down and touched his cold lips softly to the hollow at the base of my throat.
“Are you still worried now?” he murmured against my skin.
“Yes”. I struggled to concentrate. “About hitting trees and getting sick”.
His nose drew a line up the skin of my throat to the point of my chin. His cold breath tickled my skin.
“And now?” His lips whispered against my jaw.
“Trees”. I gasped. “Motion sickness”.
He lifted his face to kiss my eyelids. “Bella, you don’t really think I would hit a tree, do you?”
“No, but I might.” There was no confidence in my voice. He smelled an easy victory.
He kissed slowly down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth.
“Would I let a tree hurt you?” His lips barely brushed against my trembling lower lip.
“No”, I breathed. I knew there was a second part to my brilliant defense, but I couldn’t quite call it back.
“You see”, he said, his lips moving against mine. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, is there?”
“No.” I sighed, giving up.
Uma coisa é verdade: esse sabe como convencer uma mulher. Será que ele dá curso, gathas??