Blitzed(93)

"Both declared that they had fallen in love with the man and neither were willing to give up her claim to him either, for the rivalry between the two was strong."

"So what happened?" Jordan asked. She was fully into the story, leaning her elbows on her knees and looking as innocent as you could be. My heart flared, and I knew I was in dangerous territory. "How did they find a solution?"

"Well, under Rom culture, a groom must offer a dowry to the bride's family. So the art thief thought, and he realized that his material riches were worthless next to the treasure of the two women who loved him. So, he divided the profits of his entire career into three parts. He kept one part for himself and his new family. The other two parts were offered to the Gypsy King as dowry for both of his daughters. The King, now rich beyond his wildest dreams and seeing that his daughters were happy, agreed."

Jordan sat back, shaking her head. "Amazing. So how does this lead to you being the lead brother, as you put it?"

“I’m older than Francois," I said simply. "The timing is a matter of mere minutes, but under the laws of the Rom tribe we belong to, I’m the older brother, and, therefore, was declared the heir apparent. When my grandfather died, I was declared the King."

"You are the Gypsy King?" Jordan asked me, her eyes widening. "For how long?"

"About two years now," I said quietly. "When my Grandfather died, the title passed on to me. Father was already passed on, and it is a patriarchal culture, my mother couldn’t take over. So I was deemed King. It has been . . . a difficult change to my life."

"And it has led to tension between you and Francois," Jordan said. "I can’t imagine it."

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown," I replied softly, looking down. "I just . . . I wish I had someone to help me bear the weight."

It wasn't a come-on line. I wasn't trying to garner sympathy or a reaction. I didn't even mean to say the last bit. I guess I said it because Jordan was the first friendly face that seemed interested in my story since I didn't know when. Everyone else in my life was either family, strangers who were untrustworthy, or criminals only interested in my pilfering abilities.

The first thing I noticed was her shadow falling across my hands, which were clenched in my lap, twisting over and over, trying to work out some of the stress I constantly felt. She knelt in front of me, taking my hands in hers. It was amazing, feeling her soft skin contrasted by the hard fingertips of her calluses from being a guitar player. My fingers relaxed, letting themselves be slowly pried apart and soothed in her touch. Reaching up, she let go of my hands and lifted my chin slowly to look her in the eye, cupping my cheeks in her hands. They were amazing, a rich brown flecked with golden sparks that lent her already beautiful face a tender aspect.

"You don't always have to be alone," she said, leaning in. Her kiss was soft and supple, and of course, I was happy to kiss her back. Reaching out, I took her hand in mine and held it until she pulled away. "In spite of everything, you seem to be a good man, Felix."

I shook my head. "I wish it were so, Jordan. But I'm not a good man. I just try to do my best."

She gave my hands another squeeze and then looked up at the ceiling. Her expression changed, like she was conflicted about something. "Why is this so damn difficult?"





Chapter 10





Jordan





That night, long after I'd gone to bed, I tossed and turned underneath the two blankets that the boys had left me. My mind whirled, and my body ached.

Part of it was that, despite the extra clothing and the two blankets, I was cold. Maybe I was just feeling it more, or perhaps it was that the snow which had held off the night before had gotten more intense, but I shivered underneath my blankets. I could have used a warm body to snuggle up against, or a warm fire, neither of which were available in the bedroom.

That desire for a warm body was the other reason I couldn't get any sleep. I'd only known these two men for a few days. Yet in that time, I'd kissed Felix, and worse yet, had sex with Francois. It was unlike me, and it was messing with my head.

What was it about the brothers that got through all my emotional and sexual defenses like they were made of nothing more than tissue paper? It couldn't have been just their looks. Both were definitely my type, with dark brown hair, a certain light swarthiness to their looks, and sensuous features highlighted by wide mouths and full, pouty lips. But I mean, I was in rock and roll, that look wasn't exactly rare among rock singers. Everyone and their brother tried to copy either Elvis, Mick Jagger or Steven Tyler with their facial look. If I went gaga for every guy with pouty lips who I met, I'd have become a backstage groupie long ago.

I didn't know what it was, but I did know that my body yearned for their touch. I tossed and turned, my body coursing with warm desire until I could take it no longer. Getting out of bed, I pulled on my pants and sweater. I went over and knocked lightly on the door, hoping one of them was awake. "Guys?"

"It’s unlocked, Jordan," Felix replied from the main room. "Come on out."

I opened the door to find Francois lying on the sofa, his jacket rolled up underneath his head to provide a pillow, snoring lightly with his sweatshirt laid over his head to shade him from the firelight. "Hi," I said softly to Felix. "Thanks for not locking the door."