Double Dealing: A Menage Romance(28)

I nodded. It was a rip-off, I knew, but for Jordan, it was more than worth it. "Before I agree, let me do one thing."

The man nodded, and I turned. "Jordan? Jordan!"

Jordan, who was standing by the Jeep, looked up, her eyes glittering with tears in the light of the headlamps from the SUV. "What?"

"Come here!" I called, waving. Francois looked up from where he was arranging his items in the plane, a shocked look on his face. He knew what was going to happen, even though he couldn't believe it. He started over, his face written with outrage. I had to move fast.

"What do you want, Felix?" Jordan asked, trying to hold back her tears. "A hug goodbye?"

I shook my head. I took her hand and looked her in the eye. "I want you to come with us. Would you be willing to give up your life in the States to come with us?”

Before she could answer, Francois shoved me away. "Vous êtes fou, Felix? êtes-vous sur de votre putain de tête?"

"Surveillez votre putain de langue, Nicolae. Je suis le roi, tu te souviens?" I yelled back. I hated to use my position for such a personal need, but I had no time to debate this with him. "You will not be put out financially from this. I will cover it all from my share."

Francois stared at me with hate in his eyes for a second, then shook his head. "No, it will come equally from both of us. You're putting our lives and hers at risk, but so be it.”

He stalked away, heading toward the plane. I took the few steps back to Jordan, who was still standing there with a shocked look on her face. "Well, what do you say?"

Jordan nodded dumbly, her voice failing her. I took her hand again, and pulled her in close. “I know this is the right decision,” I whispered in her ear. “Somehow, I just know.”

"But I don't even know your full name yet, Felix," she replied. “And I’m running off to another country with you.“

I chuckled and led her away from the Mexican, who was watching us with a sort of bored curiosity. "My full name is Felix Gudada Hardy," I told her softly. "I will tell you anything else you could ask me, as soon as we are away from these men. I don’t trust them."

She looked me in the eye, then nodded. Pulling my head down we kissed, and I held her tight for a moment. "Hey, Romeo, time's ticking," the Mexican said. "Save that shit for when you're actually in Mexico, okay?"

I nodded and let go of Jordan, pushing her lightly toward the plane. "Go. Francois isn't upset with you — he wants you just as much as I do. Go find a seat, I'll be there in a moment."

I turned back to the Mexican and handed him the sword. "The Jeep has a clean title, decent wear and tear, and a half tank of gasoline. It's yours as well."

"My employer will still expect the extra money. I will inform him while you are in the air still."

I shrugged, not caring. “It can come out of our share of the money. The Jeep you can keep as a personal thanks to you."





Chapter 13





Jordan




Santa Rosalia was a tiny little city on the Baja California coast, quiet and isolated. Supposedly a hub for mining in the area, I couldn't even really call it a city it was so small. Landing at nearly three in the morning, I was a zombie for the ride to the hotel that we'd rented. I barely noticed what the place was like other than it had a large, soft bed that I collapsed into bonelessly, grateful for the relative silence after the hours of the droning, cramped Cessna. Supposedly designed for four adults, the plane had less room in the back seats than an Italian sports car.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of small waves lapping at rocks, blinking against the morning sunlight streaming through the gauzy curtain. "Good morning beautiful," Felix greeted me, sitting down on the side of the bed. "How was your sleep?"

I stretched, feeling like a kitten in a ball of silk, smiling. "Good. But I must still be sleeping."

"Why?" he asked, reaching up and stroking my hair.

"Because I'm supposed to be alone on the side of the road, somewhere near Victorville right now," I said, taking his hand and kissing it. "Not waking up in a tropical paradise warmed by the sun, looking at a man who just gave up a hell of a lot just to keep me near him. I must be dreaming."

Felix shook his head, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "No dream. We will be here for a week actually."

"I thought you were living in Europe. At least, I assumed you'd be going back to France or Albania or someplace like that."

Felix nodded. "We will eventually. But first we have to hand over the blades, and then we have to get you travel papers. A fake passport, things like that. Remember, you're a missing person involved in a kidnapping and major theft. You can’t exactly just land at Charles Du Gaulle Airport with your driver's license and not expect problems."

Of course. I had a lot to learn about the lives of the Hardy brothers. "Then my first passport will be a fake one. That's kinda funny if you think about it. So what's the agenda for today then? Hiding out in the hotel room?"

Felix shook his head. "Not at all. This town is small and isolated. The local police aren’t interested in what a couple of gringo tourists do as long as we stay out of trouble. I was thinking, after freezing for so many days, that it would be nice to enjoy the ocean and beach for a while."