Temple of the Winds

He idly wondered if those he had been with who were not professionals ever gave thought to such things. Probably not. He doubted that others pondered such curious particulars. Others gave little thought to the texture of details.

Other women, women looking for love, satisfied him, but not in the same way. They always wanted to talk, and to be wooed. They wanted. He wanted. In the end, his want overrode what he would prefer, and he gave them some of what they wanted before his needs could be satisfied.

"I thought I was finished for the night," she said. Her words came out silky smooth, with a pleasant, pert lilt, but bore no real interest at the prospect of another man this late.

"I think I'm the last," he said, trying to sound apologetic so as not to anger her. It wasn't as satisfying if they were angry. He liked nothing more than when they were eager to please. She sighed. "All right, then."

She showed no fear at having a man simply walk into her room without knocking, even though she was hardly wearing anything, nor did she make any demands for money. Silas Latherton, downstairs, with his cudgel and a long knife in his belt, made sure the women had nothing to fear. He also didn't let anyone go up the stairs unless they paid in advance, so the women didn't have to be bothered with the trouble of collecting money. It insured that he, rather than they, kept control of the income, and its distribution.

Her short, straight blond hair was disheveled, from mister potbelly, no doubt, but he found its disorder alluring. It was< a suggestive indication of what she had just been doing. It lent her an erotic look-a look he very much liked.

Her body was shapely and firm, with long legs and wonderfully formed breasts, at least what he had seen of her body before she had thrown closed her robe. He would see it again, and could wait.

The anticipation added to his excitement. Unlike her other men, he was in no rush to have it over. Once it began, it would be over all too quickly. He could never stop himself, once it began. For the moment, he would relish all the little details, so that he could capture them in his memory for all time.

She was more than simply pretty, he decided. She was a creature possessed of features that would fire men's minds with obsessive memories of her, and make them return time and time again to try, if only for fleeting moments, to possess her. The confidence with which she carried her body told him that she knew this. The frequency with which men spent money to have her was a constant reinforcement of that confidence.

Those features, though, no matter their grace and haunting beauty, had an acidic edge to them, a harshness that betrayed her true character. No doubt other men saw only the sweet face and never noticed.

He noticed. He noticed such subtle things, and he had seen this detail often. It always looked the same. It was a baseness her fair features couldn't hide from one such as himself.

"Are you new?" he asked, even though he knew she was. "First day here," she said. He knew that, too. "Aydindril is big enough to mean clients for me, but with a huge army here, it's all the better. Blue eyes around here aren't all that common; my blue eyes remind the D'Haran soldiers of girls from home. So many extra men mean women like me are in greater demand." "And it insures a better wage."

She allowed herself a small, smug, knowing smile. "If you couldn't afford it, you wouldn't be up here, so cut the complaints."

He had only meant to make an observation, and regretted the way she took it. Her voice betrayed an underlying, acerbic temperament. He sought to smooth away the ripple of her displeasure with him.

"Soldiers can sometimes get rough with a young woman as attractive as you." The compliment didn't register in her sky-blue eyes. She had probably heard it so often that she was numb to such praise. "I'm glad you came to Silas Latherton," he went on. "He doesn't let any of his clients rough up the young ladies. You'll be safe, here, under his roof. I'm glad you came here."

''Thanks." Her tone carried no warmth, but the ripple, at least, had been smoothed. "I'm glad to hear his reputation is known to his clients. I got slammed around, once. I didn't like it. Besides the pain, I couldn't work for a month." "That must have been terrible. The pain, I mean."

She tilled her head toward the bed. "You going to take off your clothes, or what?

He said nothing, but gestured to her robe. He watched her slip loose the knot from the satin belt.

"Have it your way," she said, as she shrugged the robe open just enough to tempt him into getting on with it. "I'd like. . I'd like you to enjoy it, too."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Darling, don't you worry about me. I'll enjoy it just fine. You'll no doubt thrill me. But you're the one who paid for it. Let's just worry about your pleasure."