Double Dealing: A Menage Romance(85)
“Okay. Good night, Jordan.”
I laid down in bed, thinking I'd be unable to sleep, until I woke up in the middle of the night, screaming in terror as flashbacks and withdrawals coursed through my system. I’d started the tremors two days after leaving the estate, and I wondered just how much drugs Svetlana had been pumping through me on a daily basis. At least I knew how they'd done it, with Maria the chef most likely dosing me with the twice daily supplement shakes. God alone knew how else they'd done it, but since being freed, I'd found myself jumping anytime I heard a hissing sound.
It was the hissing sound that had me scared out of my wits this time, as outside in the streets a nearby factory that obviously still used steam for something inside, let loose their built up boiler with a long, hooting hiss that penetrated the walls of the inn and crept into my sleep.
Suddenly, the door to my room crashed open and Jordan was there in her night clothes, rushing to my side and pulling me close. “Felix, are you okay?” She asked in a whispered voice, and I felt her arms coming to embrace me.
“The gas . . .” I managed to get out as two more faces, men from our escort party who we'd met just yesterday, arrived at the doorway only to be waved off by Jordan. They closed the door behind them, leaving us in the dim light and privacy. “Please, light. I need light.”
Jordan reached over and turned on the table lamp, and I did my best to hide my fear that was coursing through me. I was a broken thing, not a man any longer, afraid even of the darkness and the sound of a hissing steam pipe. Her skin was warm, even though her flannel sleep shirt, and there was something in her scent that helped.
“Close your eyes, I’ll sleep in here tonight if you don’t mind.”
For some reason, her words calmed me even more, and I felt my eyes slipping closed again. I awoke to find that the sun had risen and that the morning had come without any more nightmares. Jordan sat uncomfortably propped against the headboard of the bed, my head in her lap and her hips twisted in a manner that promised a low back ache later that day. Still, she was sleeping, her hand resting on my chest, a small smile on her innocent features. I felt another twinge in my chest, and even though I wasn't sure about my feelings still, conflict entered my heart.
Jordan had risked her life for me. She’d given up what I had heard was millions of dollars in family money to get into the Ukraine and get me back, and cashed in honor debts that stretched back generations. And there was no guarantee that my memory would come back, or that once it did, I would have the same feelings for her that I once had. Still, there was something about the way she looked in the morning light, innocent and pure, that pulled at me.
Her face pinched, and she blinked her eyes, waking up to see me looking up at her. “Good morning, Felix. Did you sleep well?”
“Much better after you joined me,” I acknowledged, taking her hand in mine and stroking the back of it. “But you must be in pain with the way you’re sitting.”
“Don't mention it, and I hope that some morning stretches will work out the worst of it,” she said with a light groan. I lifted my head from her lap, our fingers lingering on each other as she pulled her legs the rest of the way up onto the soft surface of the bed and bent forward, stretching her low back and hamstrings slowly. I was mesmerized by her fluid movements and wondered if the flexibility had always been there, or if it was the product of the long hours of training I heard she'd done to prepare for the mission. After a moment, Jordan looked over, a smile on her lips. “You're staring.”
“Uhm, I think I should get a shower,” I said, letting go of her hand and getting up. I stopped at the door, turning back and trying probably unsuccessfully to hide the growing desire building inside me. “Jordan, it's not that I don't find you beautiful. It's that . . . well, I guess you deserve the truth. I still haven't remembered our relationship. I get little feelings around you, but for now, that’s all I can remember.”
Jordan blinked, then nodded, smiling. “Thank you for your honesty. Go get your shower, I'll make sure our breakfast is ready. We have a long drive, and your mothers are eager to see you again.”
Chapter 40
Jordan
The drive was long and hard, but Felix was a total gentleman the entire time, insisting that I take the more comfortable shotgun seat of the car and that he drive. “You comforted me last night and are probably feeling it right about now,” he said when I protested at first. “You let me get a solid chunk of sleep. Now it's your turn to relax and rest some. If there's a problem, I can swap out with one of the other guys.”
The other guys were riding in their own car, a van with an ice chest that held Francois's body, and as our little two-vehicle motorcade wormed its way back to Albania, I dozed, unconsciously glad that Felix had let me rest. I awoke in time for lunch and our first refueling stop, where Felix did a few minutes of jumping jacks to loosen himself back up and to re-energize while I just relaxed on the grass and watched while eating something that kind of resembled a corn dog, but had a gamier, richer flavor.
“You keep doing that, and the car's going to smell like a locker room,” I joked, sipping at my bottle of Coke. Regardless of where you go in the world, you can find Coke, and you at least were assured that it was safer than the water in a lot of places. My intestinal track had beefed itself up some in the months I was with the Hardys, but I still wasn't quite ready to trust my gut to anything but Coke or Evian, and I hadn't seen Evian in the little gas station store we stopped at. “Not that I mind too much, of course.”