It was morning.

And she was being fucked again.

Honor squealed one last time, arching back on her hands and knees and impaling herself fully on Marq Haydn's member as she felt him explode inside her. Her lips turned up in a wide smile as she felt him release another load of cum into her body, enjoying the heavy pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside her. Her pussy flexed around him as she spasmed, convulsing and milking him for more as he held her waist, animal-like grunts coming out of his mouth to match her own loud whimpering.

He was on his feet in a perfectly tailored suit, black with barely noticeable navy blue pin-stripes, a light gray shirt and silver and blue tie. The pants and his boxers were around his ankles however, puddled over a pair of expensive black leather shoes.

She, on the other hand, was completely nude.

She fell forward on her stomach, arms going weak as he withdrew his softening cock from her pussy, moaning at the sensation that accompanied his exit. She lay quietly as she caught her breath, actually enjoying the warmth and thickness of his semen in her pussy as her body shook in the aftermath, regaining her senses. She turned around after a minute, when her breathing had somewhat calmed, sitting up with one hand planted on the bed for balance as she watched him finish pulling his trousers up.

"You look nice," she commented at last.

He smiled, fixing his tie with a smooth economy of motion. "Thanks." His gray eyes surveyed her, her full heavy breasts and wide hips, the dark brown of her nipples - still swollen and hard from recent sex. Her caramel skin was only marred by the darkening of the spots where he had bitten her on her breasts and belly as he took her over the night. Her thick black hair was thoroughly disheveled, and her lush full lips were even more pouty from being kissed so often in the last twenty four hours. "You look very nice yourself."

She made a mock-disgusted face, playfully pouting her lips and covering her breasts with an arm across her chest. "Sexist pig."

Marq finished fixing his tie and then he leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against hers, grinning. "Very very very nice."

"Sexist sexist sexist pig." She licked at his lips, putting her hand behind his head and mewling as his hand stroked down her side to rest on her hip in a shiver-inducing caress, making her pussy clench in on itself in renewed simmering hunger.

As she kissed him, she was forced to come to the conclusion that whoever had thought of leaving bowls of 'Fresh Morning!' mints on the hotel's bedside tables was an absolute genius. The large disk she had popped into her mouth had crumbled, dry and powdery until the fiery minty liquid locked in the middle joined in and left her mouth feeling profoundly, as the name promised, fresh. So when he had come back, all dressed up in his suit, she'd had the confidence to give him the kiss he'd come for.

Then his hand had gone between her legs, and she'd moaned and let him touch her, arching as she coated his fingers with her liquid. He'd growled then, and in the next moment, he'd yanked the sheets completely off her, and she was suddenly on her stomach. Another involuntary change in position brought out another squeal of surprise, and she was suddenly on her hands and knees, open, wet, and vulnerable. She'd cried out again, high and sharp, the shock and pleasure overwhelming as he sheathed himself inside her, his hands tight on her waist as he gasped out his own pleasure.

The ease with which he'd manipulated her body so he could take what he wanted, the knowledge that her pleasure was at best a secondary concern, sent an explosion of heat through her body, and the sudden upsurge of arousal as total as it was disturbing. She'd cried out as he started to slide in and out of her pussy, and then she was moving with him, her breasts bouncing wildly, desperate to feel him release inside her. A minute later he'd stiffened, crying out, his hands tightening painfully on her hips, and she'd joyfully felt him letting go ...

"How long will you be gone?" she asked breathlessly when the kiss ended; she was on her knees, her arms around his neck, her naked body pressed against him, slow rivulets of his cum leaking out of her pussy.

"Until around two, I think," he answered, hands spreading around her waist and hip.

The bedside clock said the time was '8:23'. She wondered what it was he did - what his meeting with 'Walter' and 'Deji' was about. But she knew inquiring down that path lay madness - she didn't need to know anything beyond his name and that he basically owned her until the dawn. And the fact that she was leaving and she was very likely never to lay eyes on him again after tomorrow. And nothing, she told herself, not even impossibly fantastic, very possibly unhealthily frequent sex, was going to stop it. So instead she said, "I was thinking of going out myself ... seeing the sights?"

"You should," he said, cupping one of her bottom cheeks, squeezing and making her lips part at the caress. "I'll have something arranged."

She shook her head. "No. I think ..."

He kissed her objection away. "I said I'll have something arranged."

She frowned, lips curling up in annoyance. "Look, I'm a grown woman; I don't need you to ..."

He shut her up again, covering her mouth again with his own, making her moan in equal parts enjoyment and frustration. "I know a company that'll give you a good car, a driver who would be a certified tour guide, who knows how to get you everywhere, and who can speak English," he said after he was done.

"But ..." she tried again, weak, skin tingling from the kiss and his roaming hands.

"Someone will be waiting for you in the lobby by the time you get down," he said.

She frowned again as she thought it over, careful not to pout her lips and find herself being kissed to distraction again. It didn't take all that long for her to realize that it was pointless to argue. "Fine. Just don't think ..."

He kissed her again, long and hot, caressing her body, his hands' movements methodical and calculated as he touched her everywhere before letting her go, goosepimpled and flushed, and thoroughly confused, staring up at him as heat flooded her abdomen. Annoyingly, he seemed to be taking the entire situation in his stride.

As she watched, he went to the edge of the bed and picked up her phone, somehow relocated from the other side of the bed. He quickly dialed a number, his thumb dancing over the screen, and five seconds later the phone his trouser pocket began to ring, and he just as quickly cut the call. Just like that, he had her phone number, and given her his.

"The extra key is on the coffee table," he said, putting her phone down on the bedside table.

She nodded, not saying anything, breasts heaving gently on her chest, nipples erect to full attention as his cum continued to leak out of her. Without another word, he leaned forward to kiss her again, hard and hungry, then he picked up his briefcase and left the room.

Her phone suddenly beeped, and she instinctively turned her toward the noise even as she recognized the low battery warning tone. She had the charger in her purse in the living room, she remembered. Then she froze. Right beside her phone on the bedside table was the 'Holiday Sex Guide' she had thrown against the wall an eternity ago - she had thrown it so hard the front cover was half-torn off.

She stared at it for a long moment, at the half-torn picture of the woman with the flower in her hair and her man, lovers on a hammock in an island paradise, and then she quietly got out of bed.

________________________

The Grand Imperial's lobby was larger and even more opulent than that of the Bangkok Excelsior, live and artificial flowers and plants mixed so thoroughly one could not tell which was which. White marbled covered the walls and red marble effaced the gilt-adorned columns. Staff in the hotel's maroon, marble white and gold-sashed livery bustled about busily everywhere on errands for their precious guests, going from place to place all to ensure that their guests are as comfortable as possible.

There were shops everywhere; boutiques and jewelers, small name-brand outlets, a hair salon, two car rental companies, travel agents, Thai souvenir shops, coffee shops and restaurants advertising their breakfast menus. ATMs lined the walls and signs pointing to conference rooms and business centers were artfully decorated into the columns.

Seeing it all for the first time, Honor stared about her in open admiration when she stepped out of the elevator, studying the decor, absorbing the busy atmosphere, an unconscious smile on her face as she surveyed the surroundings. She window-shopped for a few minutes, stopping to look at the shoes and jewelry, spending over half the time in a souvenir shop selling traditional Thai artwork, pictures, paintings and books in a variety of languages. She opened a cookbook of Thai recipes, skimming over to the sweets and pastry section, eyes flashing over the pictures, making notes in her head, seeking something new.

Perhaps it was the sight of food on the glossy pages, but her stomach started rumbling before long, barely audible but loud enough for her to hear and feel clearly. She'd decided against ordering room service for breakfast - deciding instead to eat at one of the restaurants the suite's ubiquitous packets of hotel literature said served breakfast. Her stomach was probably wondering what was taking so long and complaining about it. She smiled at the store attendant as she carried the cookbook and went to the till to pay for it and the pocket-sized 'Sights, Sounds & Stories of Bangkok' she picked up on the counter.

Leaving the shop, she entered the first restaurant she saw advertising a breakfast buffet. She dropped her bag at a table by one of the huge windows, one that overlooked the pool and the wide green expanse of the hotel grounds. She gave the maitre'd who'd escorted her to the table a credit card to swipe through the machine, declining to have it charged to the room. She sat as he left, chin in hand, looking out the window. There were only two swimmers, the man doing laps, the woman basking on the surface in a dark red and rather conservative bathing suit.

Honor shifted, squirming in her seat; by some twist of fate, her underwear was the exact same color, but like every item of lingerie she had brought to Bangkok, there was nothing conservative about the sheer mixtures of lace and silk that made up her bra and panties - the consequence of impulsively filling a suitcase entirely from a 'Temptations' store at the airport.

But under her clothes, they were surprisingly comfortable. She was wearing a soft white Egyptian cotton top that followed the curves of her body with a Chinese collar and long wide sleeves, and cropped denim pants. The top fell just past mid-thigh with slits only a handspan from her waist. It was loose and airy with buttons that stopped at just over her stomach - perfect for what promised to be a balmy sunny day. Her hair was in a pony tail, tied with a ribbon that looked like a butterfly with wings spread for flight.

The maitre'd returned with her card, a receipt and a printed authorization slip for her to sign, which she did with a bright smile of thanks.

The man froze for a millisecond, genuinely brought up short by it, the way her entire face seemed to light up. "Uh ... would you like tea or coffee, madam?"

"Coffee," Honor said. "Decaf."

"I shall have it delivered to your table immediately." He returned the smile rather nervously and bowed, gesturing her to the buffet table. "Enjoy your breakfast, madam."

"Thank you," Honor said, amused as the obviously flustered man went back to his station, watching him direct a young woman in the hotel livery and an apron to her table with a discrete pointing finger, wondering why he seemed about to start hyperventilating.

She fell in line behind two French men in low animated conversation, not noticing the sudden graded halting as one, then the other, noticed her. She reached for a tray when her turn came only to find a male hand getting there first to get it for her.

"For ze lady," the younger, taller one with the thin moustache said, accent thick.

"Thank you," she said, raising a querying eyebrow, amused.

"Are you 'ere alone?" the man asked.

She considered him for a moment, thinking he was harmless, especially given the unfortunate moustache. The other man was thicker set and broad faced, and clean shaven unlike his slimmer and apparently more talkative companion. "Yes, I am."

"A beautiful lady like you should never eat alone," the man declared. "Please join us. I am Pierre and dis is Luc."

She gave him a smile, deciding to let him down easy. "Maybe next time, if you gentlemen don't mind."

The two men made disappointed faces.

"Okay," said Luc, speaking for the first time. "We look for you next time?"

She smiled again. "Next time."

Minutes later, she was seated at her table, legs folded and reading the tourbook as she ate, dog-earing pages marking places she planned to see. She easily marked out the page for the Royal Palace and the Wat Phra Kaew, then the Wat Arun, and then the Wat Pho. She marked the National Museum's page last, after some minutes of indecision. For the first time, as she browsed through the rest of the book, she found herself regretting, just a little, that she was leaving the next day. There was so much more to see ...

... and then there was the sex. She squirmed a little in her seat, the ever-present heat in her abdomen flaring up, a flush heating up her cheeks as her nipples tightened on her breasts.

She needed to go back home, she told herself firmly. She needed time to heal ... and her body to return to its senses.

Her phone started to ring right then and she went for her bag immediately, grateful for the diversion from her own thoughts. She realized her heart was suddenly beating faster as she rummaged through her bag to find it. She found it and looked at the screen as she brought it out, and immediately she felt her breathing calm - it wasn't 'him.'

It wasn't even 'a' him, but a her. Honor winced, internally berating herself for forgetting something - someone - so important. 'I'm in so much trouble ...' she thought, smiling to herself and preparing herself for the onslaught as she pressed the green key and put the phone to her ear. "Hello ...?"

"Where the fuck," Sarah screamed, her language making a mockery of the years she spent being raised by nuns, "are you, Honor Banet?!"

"I'm so so sorry, Sarah ..."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sarah continued, getting warmed up, "I've been worried sick ..."

Honor smiled as Sarah vented, using four letter words in a stream of increasingly creative combinations. Finally, she ended the tirade with what she started with "Where. The. Fucking. Hell. Are. You?"

"Still in Bangkok," Honor confessed. "And I love you too."

"Hmmph," Sarah sniffed.

"I'm sorry I didn't call," Honor offered. "I'm a horrible horrible bitch and I don't deserve you as a friend."

"You can say that again, bitch."

Honor obliged. "I'm a horrible horrible horrible bitch and I don't deserve you as my best friend."

Sarah tried to stifle it but she couldn't stop her giggle coming through from across the ocean. "Okay," she said, when she was done, "what happened? Did David show up?"

"No," Honor said, biting her lip. "He didn't. I kinda missed my flight." She remembered the bright green digits of the clock ticking away the time, the feel of soap lather still on her body, the drops of water dotting her skin, the cock plunging in out of her pussy. She squirmed again in her seat, feeling her nipples tightening at the images running through her head, her face flushing. 'Too busy being a slut ...'

"You don't miss flights, Honor Banet." Sarah said, sounding unconvinced. "And you certainly don't forget to call. Are you sure you're okay?"

Honor licked her lips before answering, "I'm fine. I've just been tired. Jet lag, I think."

There was a pause. "Does David even know you're in Thailand?"

Honor squirmed as she remembered the phone call of the night before. "No.

," she confessed. "He's in ... Singapore."

Sarah's voice went up an octave. "Why the fuck haven't you told him? Look, if he knows you went all the way there to see him, he'll either make the time to come meet you or you shouldn't be marrying the bastard ..."

She wouldn't be marrying David Brenner in any case, just not for that reason. "I have my reasons for not telling him I'm here."

"What?" Sarah demanded. "Don't say his work or ..."

"I'll tell you about it when I get back, I promise," Honor cut in. "I really don't want to talk about it right now."

Sarah fell silent for a moment, then, "When are you coming back?"

"I'm getting on a plane tomorrow."

"Fine," Sarah said, voice conveying her determination to get to the bottom of the matter. "We'll talk when you get back."

Honor smiled, finding a way out of the uncomfortable silence that ensued. "Hey, at least I'm getting to see the sights. I'm going to see some of the temples and I'm checking out the museum today."

"That's great!" Sarah sounded pleased. "I still say you should make it a full holiday. Take the week off!"

"I know."

"You know," Sarah said quietly, sounding conspiratorial, "if I didn't know you any better, I'd think you met somebody there and you're having some fun on the side - getting it all out of your system ..."

Honor felt heat rising from her neck and she squirmed uncomfortably. "Really?" she said, sounding amused, but suddenly wondering; 'Could that be what David was doing with Jillian Blake ... getting it all out of his system?'

Sarah continued, oblivious thousands of miles away. "Maybe it's the guy who 'rescued' you ... is he cute?"

Honor's went stock-still for a moment, licking her lips at how close Sarah had come to the truth - right on target, actually, but of course Sarah was a 'little' too far away to notice. "Sarah!" she said, sounding scandalized.

"Okay, okay, relax..." Sarah conceded with a laugh "I said if I didn't know you any better - I know how much, even though I can't understand why, you love your precious David."

"Hmmph!" Honor sniffed, but inwardly relieved.

"But you still haven't answered my question," Sarah teased, "is he cute?"

Honor thought of her 'rescuer's' face, her breathing becoming elevated as her nipples tightened again, heat in her abdomen. "He's alright ... I guess."

"Hah!" Sarah hooted, sounding triumphant. "So you noticed! Did you give him a kiss like I asked?"

'More than just a kiss' Honor thought before responding. "I'm engaged, Sarah."

"Was that a yes ... ?" Sarah taunted.

"I said 'thank you'," Honor interjected. 'And then agreed to be his whore ...'

"Oh." Sarah sounded disappointed. "Still the same old Honor Banet. All prim and proper."

"But you love me anyway," Honor said, feeling her face burning.

"Yes, I do," Sarah responded. She yawned, the sound coming through loud and clear. "Well, now that I know you're okay, I can get some sleep."

"I'm sorry for not calling," Honor said.

"The security guys are just lucky you picked up," Sarah said darkly. "Bitch."

"Hey!" Honor warned even as they both tittered.

"Love you," Sarah said finally. "And call me. Today!"

"I will, I promise," Honor said. "Love you too."

"And don't forget to have fun!"

"I will. Bye you ..." Honor ended the call, and with a smile on her face she finished her coffee, and stuffed the 'Sights, Sounds & Stories of Bangkok' and her phone in her bag as she stood up and hung it on her shoulder. She smiled indulgently at the two French men - who were not-so-coincidentally seated at the table just across from her - when she saw them both waving goodbye, answering them with a quick small wave of her own.

Pierre and Luc were not the only men who could not keep their eyes off her as she left the restaurant.

"Did you see that smile?" Pierre whispered, embarassingly aware of an extra bulging in his pants. He thought he could see the swollen outlines of her nipples poking through her top as he watched her full breasts jiggling ever so slightly under the soft white material with every step. "Those lips?"

Luc had breathed in her thick black hair when she'd been standing next to him and looking away, the wild fruit and jasmine scent of her shampoo mixed in with something else, something devastatingly feminine, all soft and lush like the body walking out of the restaurant on high heeled sandals. "... like sex on two legs ..." he sighed.

________________________

When she'd walked out of the front entrance of the Grand Imperial, a short, rotund man was patiently holding a small placard sized whiteboard with her name scrawled on it in capital letters. He had a full head of hair flowing down to his collar, a small chin beard and laugh lines all over his face, as if he spent most of his life with a smile on it - which it turned out, he did.

"Are you Honor Banet?" he'd asked, grinning broadly when she walked up to him. The portable whiteboard bore a logo on the top left corner - a blue Thai dragon and the words 'Blue Dragon Guides' in a font that was very suggestive of the Thai alphabet overlaid on it.

"Yes?" Honor found herself smiling back at the man - it was hard not to.

"Pleasure to meet you." His accent was distinctly Thai with a tinge of Australian, his English excellent. In her sandals' wedge heels, she was of the same height as him. "My name is Jao. Marq asked me to show you around Bangkok today." He raised his eyebrows dramatically. "So ... ready to go?"

Honor nodded, "Yes, I am."

"Great," he said. "Wait right here."

Two minutes later, he drove a silver Mercedes saloon with the blue dragon logo on the driver's door and silver tinted windows up from the hotel's basement parking lot to the front entrance and gestured for her to enter the back seat.

They were at the Wat Pho - the Temple of the Reclining Buddha - and she was with a quietly awed score of tourists and guides, Jao at her side, camera in hand, fascinated by the dozens of scenes depicted on the gigantic mother-of-pear inlaid feet of the nearly 140 foot long gold plated statue of the Buddha, when her phone rang in her bag.

She extracted the phone from the bag and put it to her ear, licking her lips as she saw the name on the screen. "Hello?"

"How's your tour going, Miss Banet?" Marq asked.

"Wonderful, Mr. Haydn," Honor responded, her lips curving up in a smile despite herself. Her heart had started beating faster just from hearing his voice.

"Good." He sounded pleased. "And how do you like Jao?"

Honor glanced at the tour guide, who was looking at her with his habitual wide smile. To her surprise, he had moved some extra feet away to give her some privacy. "He's amazing," she said without hesitation. "He's like a walking, talking encyclopedia ..."

Her 'Blue Dragon Guide' had first taken her to the Wat Phra Kaew - the Temple of the Emerald Buddha - contained within the grounds of the Grand Royal Palace, another place worth seeing in its own right. As they lined up at the Eastern visitors' entrance to enter the ubosoth of the temple complex - the prayer building housing the forty-five centimeter tall figurine of the Buddha - and the holiest Buddhist shrine in all of Thailand, Jao had given her a more thorough history of the temple than even the tour book. He told her about the three different seasonal attires for the Buddha and the ceremony where the green jade figure - not emerald - is dressed by the King or a son at the beginning of every season; hot, rainy and cold.

"All are made of gold," Jao added before going on to tell her that only the King and immediate members of the Royal family were allowed to use the central entrance of the ubosoth. He pointed out the highly decorated coverings of the sema stones that marked the boundaries of the ubosoth, keeping out evil.

The colored mirror tiles and gilt carving on the walls took her breath away, as did the mother-of-pearl inlaid doors. Tinkling above her as a breeze blew across made her look up to see the bronze bells lining the eaves of the building. The golden statuary on the outside had everyone pointing and oohing and aahing while Jao named the winged creatures depicted as garudas and the serpent like creatures as nagas.

Honor took lots of pictures and had Jao take some more.

The exclamations over the statues and picture taking stopped when they entered the building itself, after removing their shoes, shuffling in in respectful silence, Honor having wrapped and tied the sarong Jao thoughtfully brought along just in case around her waist. The Emerald Buddha itself sat high up on a gilt altar, above numerous other Buddha figurines which Jao explained had been placed there by the Kings of Thailand to commemorate special occasions in their reign. Jao quietly drew her attention to the paintings depicting the life of Buddha and the cosmological precepts of Buddhism on the ubosoth's interior walls and she had a tough but thoroughly enjoyable time trying to capture as much detail as possible and keep the green jade lotus-seated figure in his golden garments - hot season - in view at the same time.

Afterwards, they had visited the other buildings, altars and other constructions; the prangs, chedis - she took multiple pictures of the gilded Phra Sri Rattana chedi - mondops - library buildings - and yods that made up the temple. She saw the golden statues of the kinnorn, the mythical half-man and half-bird creatures - representing pleasure, beauty and grace, Jao told her. The statues of the yaksha, the giant demon guardians had her craning her neck to see the intricate designs painted on their faces. Jao expertly named each of the twelve giant statues, pointing out their distinctive features, such as the small elephant like trunk that stood for the nose of the one named Thot-Khiri-Thon at the South Western gate. Jao had already recounted the Ramakien, the Thai version of the sacred Hindu Ramayana epic, for her to explain the paintings on the galleries and the walls of the temple and the mother-of-pearl scenes on the ubosoth's door, and she instantly recognized them from the story.

They had seen the Grand Palace next, through which the Wat Phra Kaew was exited and she had learned about the construction, of King Rama the First, formerly the General Chakri, who had made Bangkok the capital of Siam after the execution of his predecessor, the deposed King Taksin, whose capital had been in Thonburi across the river - where the Wat Arun stood in all its majesty. She admired the gold filigree and brilliant red - sometimes mixed with green - roofing of the buildings, seeing the melding of western and Thai architecture in the tiling and gilt lined pagodas. Inside the Pavilion of Regalia and Royal Decorations she had seen the other two seasonal clothings - rainy and cool - of the Emerald Buddha on display, patiently waiting for the changing of the seasons.

Then they had walked to the adjacent Wat Pho, buying bottles of water and candy bars along the way. Jao was systematically taking her to see as many of the one thousand Buddha images housed in the huge temple complex so they could make it to the Wat Arun across the river.

Honor was enjoying herself immensely. "Thank you," she said into the phone, meaning it.

"You're welcome," Marq responded after a short pause. Another pause, and then, "Where are you now?"

Her lips parted, heat coiling down into her abdomen and in between her legs. "Umm ... are you back at the hotel?" The time was almost a quarter to three.

"Yes," he said, "but I think I'm going to join you instead. Where are you?"

"The Wat Pho," she said, licking her lips again. "The Temple of the ..."

"... Reclining Buddha," he finished. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Honor licked her lips again, unsure - her body was already misbehaving from just talking to him on the phone. But then he'd left her no choice, as usual. Her nipples were just that little more sensitive, tauter on her breasts, she noticed with a little frustration, hoping no one would notice, as she put the phone back into her bag. Jao returned and they continued the tour, Honor just able to keep up with the short Thai man's impromptu dropping of factoids - such as the fact that the Wat Pho was considered the birthplace of Thai massages.

Jao saw him first despite the fact that she was the one more actively, even if furtively, looking for him, striding at a leisurely pace towards them as they were looking up at one of the Wat Pho's four prangs - tall thin and richly carved spires with small niches containing small statuettes of the Buddha.

"There's Marq," Jao said, grinning widely, interrupting himself from explaining that the Wat Pho's prangs were arranged along the cardinal compass points as opposed to the six prangs at the Wat Phra Kaew, which were arrayed in a straight line.

Honor's head swung around, and her lips parted again as she saw him. She felt herself starting to flush. 'Stop it Honor!' she berated herself. She shouldn't be reacting like one of Pavlov's dogs to a man's mere presence, she thought, annoyed at the moist wet heat that suddenly flared up between her legs.

Marq Haydn's hands were in his pockets as he came to a stop beside them. He had ditched his tie and opened the collar of his light grey shirt. Otherwise he was dressed exactly as he was when he'd left her in the suite - naked and with his cum dripping out of her pussy.

"This is a 'prang', isn't it?" he said.

"Yes, indeed," Jao confirmed. "Good to see you remembered something of what I've taught you."

The two men grinned, and then shook hands like old friends that didn't need to say much when meeting each other, even after a long period of time. And Jao immediately continued the tour as if the new arrival had been with them from the beginning. By then, Honor and the guide had already seen about as much as they were going to see of the Wat Pho if they planned to spend any reasonable amount of time at the Wat Arun, so the rest of the tour, with Jao's regular stream of informative and remarkably amusing commentary was on the way out of the temple complex.

"You look like you're having fun," he commented as they stood waiting for Jao to bring the car around from the parking lot. A few yards away was a bus stop, and there were all sorts of people, tourists of all colors and nationalities, Thais on pilgrimage from other parts of the country, even a few monks in their flowing orange robes milling around.

She looked up at him, shading her eyes from the sun with her hand. "I am."

"Good," he said.

"How was your meeting?" Honor asked after a long awkward - for her, he looked quite comfortable - moment. She realized as the words left her mouth that she was walking close to the danger zone - asking him about his work. She had made the hard conscious decision to avoid finding out anything more about him. It could only make things more complicated. It was the reason why she had stopped herself, no matter how curious Jao's numerous casual references to 'Marq' had made her, from asking the rather portly Thai man how they knew each other.

'Typical girl.' she chided herself, 'Can't just fuck a man without wanting to know his entire life story ...'

"It went very well," he answered at last. "We have another one tomorrow and that should be all."

"That's good," she said, her sensible, rational side hoping that that was where that line of conversation would end before any more damage was done. Her other side, her irrational side that had led her to his hotel suite on the other side of the world, of course, wanted to know more. A lot more.

"Do you like turtles?" He smiled, one side of his mouth quirking up at her somewhat startled questioning look at the question, and continued. "The Wat Arun has pools of turtles all over the grounds, though probably not as many as the Wat Prayoon."

"I already have a tour guide, y'know." She smiled. "And he's very good."

He laughed quietly. "Then he's probably told you that one day is not enough."

She looked away from him, smiling still, but silent. Jao 'had' told her that - repeatedly.

But she 'had' to leave tomorrow - and the way her body was reacting to the man beside her, the way the hairs at the back of her neck rose and fell only to rise again when their eyes met, only made her more certain of her premonition that not getting on that plane tomorrow would be a life-altering decision.

She could feel her nipples swelling and hardening on her breasts, the simmering heat in her abdomen flaring up a few degrees as she felt the weight of his eyes on her, primal and hungry behind his glasses. She felt herself flushing again as his gaze traveled up and down her body, openly undressing her, wondering if he could see how aroused she was by his mere presence.

"So what did you think of the Temple of the Emerald Buddha?" he asked at last.

Where to start, she wondered? "It was so beautiful ..." Her eyes shone as she tried to gather her thoughts on the experience. "I honestly don't know what words I can use to describe it ..."

He smiled at her. "Awe-inspiring. I think those were my words when I first saw it."

She nodded enthusiastically in agreement. "When?" she asked.

"About five years ago," he answered. "With Jao, actually. That was when we met."

"He was your tour guide?" Honor asked, interested.

"No," Marq said, "He just happened to be driving the taxi." One side of his mouth quirked up. "I got into his cab at the hotel, and I told him I wanted to go to the Wat Phra Kaew ... and I got this incredible history lesson."

She turned her head around to look at him, attention grabbed, realizing that she was having her curiosity about what connected the two men satisfied.

"After the first day, I hired him for the rest of the week," Marq continued, "I told him at some point that he should be a professional. He said he didn't have the money for it." He shrugged. "I did. So I helped him get his first two buses. He designed the logo himself."

Honor's mouth dropped open. She had seen 'three' mid-sized silver buses with the blue dragon logo in the parking lot as Jao's similarly logoed Mercedes when they had arrived. She had even seen one of the drivers raise his hand in greeting as they passed, Jao raising his own hand more discreetly in answer. She had thought that she was only witnessing work colleagues exchanging greetings, not a boss acknowledging an employee's salutation.

She had another thought; Jao chose to personally drive her around when he could have assigned any member of his staff to do it, simply because Marq asked him. 'Helped' therefore most likely meant that Marq had bought those first two buses all by himself. For someone he had only known for a week.

And despite her best efforts to avoid it, she had learned another thing about Marq Haydn.

"I saw three buses this morning ..." she whispered.

"Oh?" Marq smiled. " That would be three out of twelve. Don't really have anything to do with that though. Jao is a good businessman."

She stared at him. "So you two are ... business partners ..?"

Marq shrugged "I own fifteen percent of the company, he owns the remaining eighty-five percent. It used to be the other way round. The deal was for him to buy it completely off me over time."

"But he's refusing to buy the rest." Honor guessed. "He wants you to remain involved."

Marq shrugged again, and she smiled at him, understanding now why Jao's voice became so unaccountably warm whenever Marq's name came up.

She felt warm, too. Hot, actually. Like when he'd paid for her. Her lips parted as she met his gaze, the flush flowing up to her face, the hairs at the back of her neck rising. Her nipples were suddenly swelling to full attention, poking rudely through the soft mesh of the bikini and the soft cotton of her top. The heat in her abdomen was back and rolling down between her legs. She found herself reaching for his hand and she licked her lips as she interlocked her fingers with his.

His eyes made their predatory way around her face, stopping at her moistened lips before he said what she wanted to hear. "I'm taking you back to the hotel, Miss Banet."

It was a simple statement of fact; her tour of Bangkok was over.

She willingly stepped forward as he pulled her over until she was standing in front of him, close enough to feel his breath on her skin and stir up the heat between her legs to something burning and ravenously hungry even before he kissed her, capturing her lips for one long breathless moment. "Oh, really ...?" she murmured afterwards, teasing. "And what are you going to do to me there, Mr. Haydn?"

He grinned evilly, his mouth close to hers. "Everything." He kissed her again, swallowing her excited breathing, making her step up closer, not caring if anyone was watching as she opened her mouth for him, mewling in protest when he pulled back. "Yes?"

She lifted herself on her tip-toes and began to place a series of quick soft nibbling kisses on his jaw, kissing up to his cheekbone. "Yes," she whispered, lips brushing against his ear.

A car horn sounded, Jao driving the silver Mercedes with the blue dragon up to them, giving way to an approaching bus.

The bus passed them and on to the stop and Jao pulled up beside them, trafficator lights blinking.

"You two ready to go?" he called out after five seconds and no acknowledging movement from either of them. He gave them both a naughty wink.

"Wait," Marq said quietly.

Honor watched him as he bent his head into the car to talk to Jao, biting her lip gently as she banked her desire, the raw need to feel him inside her making her clench her fists and take a deep shuddering breath. If she was herself, she would be flushing with embarrassment at what had to be running through Jao's mind as Marq spoke to him - asked him to take them back to the hotel. She was flushed all right, but it wasn't from embarrassment.

She heard the word 'license' from Jao and saw Marq's nod, and then Jao let out a dramatically loud sigh of mock exasperation. And then, to her surprise, Jao got out of the car.

"Don't worry." Jao smiled at her as he went around and climbed onto the sidewalk . "Marq actually knows something about the Wat Arun, so you're in good hands."

Honor wondered if Jao really believed they were going to the Temple of the Dawn.

"What about you?" she asked, realizing that he was leaving them the car. "How are you getting home?"

"Taxi."

"What about your car?"

Jao waved a dismissive hand. "I'll have someone pick it up later." He opened the passenger door for her.

Marq entered the car from the other side, behind the wheel, pressing the buttons to adjust the seating as she buckled on her seatbelt.

The Thai man grinned at her one last time after closing the door. "It was a real pleasure meeting you, Miss Honor Banet." He gestured with his eyes at Marq. "Let me know if he confuses the chedis and the mondops."

"I will," Honor said as Marq raised his eyebrows from behind his glasses. She grinned back at the tour guide. "And it was absolutely wonderful meeting you, Jao."

Jao beamed, and then stepped back after exchanging parting nods with Marq, and waved as Marq put the car in gear and they moved off onto the road. Honor waved back at the portly Thai until he was far in the distance, every moment thoroughly aware of the man beside her.