She could have been a queen in some exotic land for the way she stood outside that bordello. And perhaps she was.
The hot desert sun beat against his brow, sending droplets of sweat across his sun-goldened complexion. In the distance, a sandstorm brewed, dancing up to touch the disappearing clouds. They filtered languidly across the sky as if they longed to stay. The night grasped at the morning light leaving the soft blushes of dawn until those too disappeared.
Her gaze returned to his, dark eyes framed by equally dark lashes. A sad look, whether from leaving him or returning to her life, he did not know though he suspected the latter. She smiled at him, a haunting smile used far too often to quell the rages of men. A desperation and strength seeping from her eyes, momentarily blinding his conscience.