Empire and Honor (Honor Bound 7)

“Spectacular,” Cronley said.

“My sentiments exactly,” Dunwiddie said. “He’s probably regaling her with tales of his exciting life in the CIC, which I would say is going to see him in her bed—or vice versa—in the near future.”

Cronley could hear enough of the couple’s conversation in German to conclude that Tiny was right on the money.

The couple finished their meal and left just as Tiny’s and Jimmy’s entrees were being served. The blonde, who they now saw towered at least a head over her escort, was even more spectacular when viewed from the rear.

Dunwiddie again read Jimmy’s mind: “I have always been an ass man myself,” he said, and when Cronley smiled, went on: “I never asked. Did you leave a fur-line behind in Marburg?”

“No,” Cronley replied immediately. When he saw the look on Tiny’s face, he explained, “My father met my mother in Strasbourg after the First World War.”

“And you’re uncomfortable ‘taking advantage’?”

“I guess.”

“Oddly enough, so am I,” Dunwiddie said, and then asked, “You haven’t gotten laid since you came to Germany?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Who is she?”

“Didn’t Norwich teach you that gentlemen don’t tell?”

“What Norwich taught me was to seek inspiration from great leaders.”

“Meaning what?”

“General George S. Patton, who I suggest qualifies as a great leader, said, ‘A soldier who won’t fuck won’t fight.’ I have taken that advice to heart.”

“So, you have a fräulein?”

“I didn’t say that. What I did was agree with the opinion of Oscar Wilde, who said, ‘Celibacy is the most unusual of all the perversions.’”

Cronley chuckled. “I never heard that.”

“We of Norwich tend to have greater erudition than you Aggies.”

“So then what do you do?”

“Well, since I certainly don’t want to be accused of practicing the most unusual of all perversions, I decided that I would have to enter into business relationships with practitioners of the world’s oldest profession.”

“You find yourself a whore,” Jimmy said.

“When my libido gets out of control, I find a prostitute, not a whore.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You pay a prostitute for services rendered, and that’s the end of it.”

My God, he’s got it right. That’s what I should do.

I can’t spend the next two years—or however long I’m going to be in Germany—with a perpetual raging hard-on.

Dunwiddie again read his mind.

“Why, Lieutenant, do I think I have just solved one of your more pressing problems?”

“Where would I find one of these professional ladies?”