Pagan Passions | Page 8

to guide him he bred bigger and bigger wars and greater and greater empires--beginning with the conquests of the mad Alexander of Macedonia and culminating in the opposing Soviet and American Spheres of Influence during the last century."
Spheres of Influence....
Forrester's gaze fell on the blonde girl again. She certainly had a well-developed figure. And she did seem so eager and attentive. He smiled at her tentatively. She smiled back.
"Urg ..." he said aloud.
The class didn't seem to notice. That, Forrester told himself sourly, was probably because they weren't listening.
He swallowed, wrenched his gaze from the girl, and said: "The Soviet-American standoff--for that is what it was--would most probably have resulted in the destruction of the human race." It had no effect on the class. The destruction of the human race interested nobody. "However," Forrester said gamely, "this form of insanity was too much for the Gods to allow. They therefore--"
The bell rang, signifying the end of the period. Forrester didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed.
"All right," he said. "That's all for today. Your first assignment will be to read and carefully study Chapters One and Two of the textbook."
Silence gave way to a clatter of noise as the students began to file out. Forrester saw the front-row blonde rise slowly and gracefully. Any doubts he might have entertained (that is, he told himself wryly, any entertaining doubts) about her figure were resolved magnificently. He felt a little sweat on the palm of his hands, told himself that he was being silly, and then answered himself that the hell he was.
The blonde gave him a slow, sweet smile. The smile promised a good deal more than Forrester thought likely of fulfillment.
He smiled back.
It would have been impolite, he assured himself, not to have done so.
The girl left the room, and a remaining crowd of students hurried out after her. The crowd included two blinking boys, awakened by the bell from what had certainly been a trance. Forrester made a mental note to inquire after their records and to speak with the boys himself when he got the chance.
No sense in disturbing a whole class to discipline them.
He stacked his papers carefully, taking a good long time about it in order to relax himself and let his palms dry. His mind drifted back to the blonde, and he reined it in with an effort and let it go exploring again on safer ground. The class itself ... actually, he thought, he rather liked teaching. In spite of the petty irritations that came from driving necessary knowledge into the heads of stubbornly unwilling students, it was a satisfying and important job. And, of course, it was an honor to hold the position he did. Ever since it had been revealed that the goddess Columbia was another manifestation of Pallas Athena herself, the University had grown tremendously in stature.
And after all ...
Whistling faintly behind his teeth, Forrester zipped up his filled briefcase and went out into the hall. He ignored the masses of students swirling back and forth in the corridors, and, finding a stairway, went up to his second-floor office.
He fumbled for his key, found it, and opened the ground-glass door.
Then, stepping in, he came to a full stop.
The girl had been waiting for him--Maya Wilson.
* * * * *
And now here she was, talking about the Goddess of Love. Forrester gulped.
"Anyhow," he said at random, "I'm an Athenan." He remembered that he had already said that. Did it matter? "But what does all this have to do with your passing, or not passing, the course?" he went on.
"Oh," Maya said. "Well, I prayed to Aphrodite for help in passing the course. And the Temple Priestess told me I'd have to make a sacrifice to the Goddess. In a way."
"A sacrifice?" Forrester gulped. "You mean--"
"Not the First Sacrifice," she laughed. "That was done with solemn ceremonies when I was seventeen."
"Now, wait a minute--"
"Please," Maya said. "Won't you listen to me?"
Forrester looked at her limpid blue eyes and her lovely face. "Sure. Sorry."
"Well, then, it's like this. If a person loves a subject, it's that much easier to understand it. And the Goddess has promised me that if I love the instructor, I'll love the subject. It's like sympathetic magic--see?"
Her explanation was so brisk and simple that Forrester recoiled. "Hold on," he said. "Just hold your horses. Do you mean you're in love with me?"
Maya smiled. "I think so," she said, and very suddenly she was on Forrester's side of the desk, pressing up against him. Her hand caressed the back of his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair. "Kiss me and let's find out."
CHAPTER THREE
Resistance, such as it was, crumbled in a hurry. Forrester complied with fervor. An endless time went by, punctuated only by short breaths between the