sensuous pair of onyxes he wore for eyes, all hard and cold and wary. She slid
her hand into his, and they departed the Golden Oasis.
‘Of course I’m sure. Bourne!’ Lirain twitched off the blue-arabesqued bandeau of
green silk Hanse had bought her, and hurled it at the man on the divan. He
grinned so that his big brown beard writhed. ‘He has such needs\ He is never
relaxed, and wants and needs so badly, and so wants to be and to do. He is so
impressed with who or rather what I am, and yet he would deny under torture that
I was anything but another nice tumble. You and I both well know about low-borns
who hunger for far more than food! He is completely taken in and he’ll be the
perfect tool. Bourne. My agent assured me that he is a competent sneak-thief,
and that he wants to rob and gain a leg on Prince Kittycat so badly he can taste
it. I saw that, right enough. Look, it’s perfect!’
‘A thief. And competent, you say.’ Bourne scratched his thigh under the tunic of
his Hell Hound’s uniform. He glanced around the apartment she occupied on nights
when the prince might come – hours from now. ‘And he has a valuable halter of
you now, to sell. Perhaps to brag about and get you into trouble. That kind of
trouble ends in death, Lirain.’
‘You find it hard to admit that I a woman – have accomplished this, love? Look
here, that gourd-holster was stolen today in the market-place. Sliced through in
back and snatched off, in a single act. Some child of about thirteen, a dirty
girl who ran off with it like a racing dromedary. I did not tell anyone because