Double Dealing: A Menage Romance (3 page)

The mist got thicker until I could barely see my hand in front of my face, so I was surprised and shocked when a man came out of the Kokuho exhibit room and bowled me over. He hadn’t been anticipating me, as he was knocked down too, both of us falling to the floor, him on top of me. As I fell, I saw him clearly, his mouth and nose covered in a mask similar to mine. My head hit the tile, and blackness dropped like a curtain over my vision.

I
woke up in a bed
, confused and disoriented. I blinked and realized I wasn't in a hospital, but in what looked like a log cabin of all things. Two of the walls were the sort of rounded log appearance that I associated with cabins at least, while the other two were thick-looking unfinished planks that looked like older wood. There were no windows, and the door was shut pretty solidly. The room was lit by a simple battery powered lantern that cast a slightly yellow LED shine around the room, not enough to really see, but enough to get the basics. I blinked again, wincing at the pain in the back of my head. I'd certainly hit my head rather solidly, that was for sure. "Hello?"

There was no answer, so I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hello?"

I heard movement outside the door, and the distinct sound of a latch being thrown back before the door opened and in walked a guy who looked like he was from an old poem, maybe something by Browning or Shelley. Thick, slightly wavy black hair capped a fine forehead which led to mysterious black eyes, like two obsidian orbs in the midst of a lightly tanned face. His lips and mouth were sensuous, the sort that made women wonder what they would feel like pressed against their skin. That is, when they didn’t wake up in a strange log cabin. His looks promised dark, forbidden pleasures that you didn't tell your friends about.

His face was just the beginning, though. He was kind of tall, maybe a shade over six feet, with an athletic physique that added allure to the promise of his hips and eyes. His shoulders were broad, capped with rounded muscle that went down to baseball-sized biceps and forearms thickly corded with muscle that rippled under a coat of black curls. His chest was just as impressive before darting down to an almost impossibly narrow waist before flaring out to strong legs, although he was wearing black cargo pants that hid most of what they looked like.

"Hello?" I repeated, feeling somewhat foolish. "Where am I?"

"I apologize for the strangeness, Miss Banks, but after my brother ran over you, we had to take you with us," he said. His voice was like pure melted butter it was so smooth, a mix of French, American, and something else that I couldn't put my finger on. Either way, it was a perfect match to his sensual body. "How is your head?"

"Hurts," I replied after a moment, blinking when I realized I'd been staring. I smiled, suddenly shy, only to feel my face flush when he smiled back. He had perfect teeth, something you don't see often when your nightlife is hanging around rock musicians. "Why am I not in a hospital?"

"Ah, well, that's the difficult thing," he said. "You see, you interrupted my brother and me in our work for the evening, and when my brother insisted you’d seen his face. So we couldn’t just let you go."

"What do you mean?" I asked, a thin line of chill penetrating the spell his voice and looks were weaving around me. "Why not?"

"This is new for me, but I guess you could say that you’re a guest for the time being, but one that isn’t free to leave. May I sit down? You're not tied up or anything, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

If he was a kidnapper, he was certainly the most polite kidnapper I'd ever heard of. I gestured with my hand, waving like I was saying,
Of course, go ahead. I frequently discuss my involuntary detainment with gorgeously handsome men who take me to log cabins
. The man smiled again and grabbed a chair by the door and sat down, making sure to keep himself between me and the door. “Your pulling the fire alarm ruined a very finely-tuned plan on our part. We only got a fraction of what we wanted, and didn't get either of our top two prizes."

"You're thieves," I replied, putting two and two together. "You were trying to steal the Muramasa and Masamune swords."

He nodded, not even wasting the effort to deny it. "Among others. But yes, the crown jewels were the Muramasa and Masamune blades. We had offers for over twenty million dollars each for them," he said. "As it is, we'll make our investment in equipment back on the seven blades we obtained, but not much else. C'est la vie, non?"

"And kidnapping me?" I asked, curious. "What role does that play?"

I couldn't help it, my mind casually flashed to a few fantasies I'd read in various novels, of the innocent maiden taken and taught the ways of the world by her handsome captor. The man laughed and looked at me with knowing eyes. I blushed, and pulled the blanket that was covering me up higher, almost all the way to my chin. "Don’t worry, Jordan. My brother and I aren’t that sort of violent men. We won’t hold you down and ravish you or anything. Unless you want us to, that is,” he said, grinning.

“Actually, it was my brother who insisted that you be taken with us. He says that when the two of you tumbled to the floor, you got a good look at his face. Now, we were wearing covers over our mouths and noses, but you never know, you may have gotten a good enough look to give the police a description. We can’t have that for at least the next few days."

"And after that?"

"Hopefully it won’t matter, Miss Banks. My brother and I intend on leaving the United States at that point, and where we’re going, well, disappearing is rather easy."

Something he said pricked at my brain, and finally, it came to me. I would have gotten it sooner, but I must have really been hit in the head hard. "Wait a second. How is it you know my name?"

The man laughed and tapped his forehead. "I have mystic powers. Actually, it's because you were carrying your wallet in your jeans pocket. Your wallet, keys, and money are sitting on the dresser to your right. I was surprised, though, no cell phone? I thought everyone had them nowadays."

"It's in my locker at work," I said honestly. "The wallet was just because it's a habit."

He stood up, and again I was taken aback by just how smooth everything this man did was. Talking, sitting, standing, everything looked like it was just one harmonious never-ending dance. I swear he was the sort of man who'd make picking his nose look sexy. “Be careful. You never know when you might run into a criminal, after all. In the meantime, I suggest you rest, Miss Banks. It’s still early. When you wake up, we can talk about your freedom, and breakfast."

"Wait," I said as he reached the door. He paused, turning his head back towards me. "Uhm, I don't expect the real thing, but what can I call you? I don't want to keep yelling
hey you
or
hello
when I need something."

He nodded his head again, smiling softly. "You may call me Francois. And please, not Frank. Francois."

I
felt
bad locking the door behind me. She hadn't chosen to come with us, and I’d be the first to admit that I was a rookie at kidnapping people. Our plan should have been perfect, designed to avoid the very problem that we encountered. Unfortunately for us, we hadn't planned on the janitorial staff being there. We certainly hadn't planned on any of the rest of the staff wearing gas masks. The mist we'd deployed was specifically designed to prevent that sort of problem, containing a fast-acting sleeping agent that would have incapacitated anyone breathing it in within five or six seconds.

"Why'd you tell her your name, you fool?" a slightly deeper voice than mine said from behind me, harsh with reproach.

I turned from my thoughts to look at my brother, who was seated in front of the fire. We were in a valley, deep in the San Bernardino mountains along an mostly overgrown fire trail. The nearest towns were Big Bear and Lake Arrowhead, although there were some villages closer by that we avoided in order to not be noticed. While the snow wasn't very deep, it was cold in the cabin, and we'd made sure to lay aside a decent supply of firewood. We weren't worried about the local authorities, the area was rarely patrolled by the forest rangers, who were used to hunters and other nature lovers using the isolated cabins at irregular times. As long as we weren't causing a fire hazard, we'd be left alone.

"Felix, relax. We're just keeping her here a few days and then letting her go. I'll even give her the keys to the Jeep when we’re on our way out, she won’t be able to get the authorities involved in time. We'll be in Mexico before she even finds her way to Crestline or Lake Arrowhead. Even if she tried to use a cell phone, we're so deep in the mountains she won't get a signal. Which, by the way, she confirmed is not with her, but in her locker back in Los Angeles."

Felix, always uptight, glowered. He was good at glowering when he wanted to. "Francois, you made a mistake. Admit it."

"I admit I told a beautiful young woman my name, nothing more," I said, intentionally needling Felix. I knew, despite anything my brother might say, that part of the reason he'd taken Jordan with us was because of her looks. He always had been a sucker for brunettes, and Jordan Banks had one of the most striking shades of brown I'd ever seen, a rich shade that almost glowed with an inner light, like highly polished cherry wood. There were hints of red hidden in the brown, but not enough to really call it red. It was quite remarkable really.

Of course, Felix hadn't had the pleasure of seeing her up close and in person yet, immediately giving me the duty of putting Jordan to bed while he surveyed the take from the job. I’d been the one to see that underneath the oversized set of coveralls was a pretty, trim physique, highlighted by a nice set of what some of the women in my family would call "child-bearing hips.”Not overweight, but a woman who'd look great in a billowy skirt dancing barefoot around a fire.

"Felix, come now. She's awake, she's not going anywhere, and she's going to be our guest. She sounded like she doesn't have a concussion, but I’m not a doctor. Unless you want me to spend the next three days calling you nothing but brother, relax. Or do you intend on keeping her locked up in that bedroom the whole time?”

Felix shook his head and sighed. "This isn’t what we agreed to do on this job. We were to get in, get the swords, and get out."

"We got a decent bunch, we're not losing money," I replied. "Besides, I already saw the one you wanted. You sure on it?"

Felix nodded, his eyes already going to the one katana we'd grabbed that wasn't in just a blade form. A modern reproduction using ancient techniques, it was in Felix's eyes better than the blades that were hundreds of years old. He picked it up off the table and pulled it from its scabbard, studying the steel in the firelight. "You know, I could actually use this if I had to. It's barely worth ten thousand dollars on the open market," Felix said as he examined the edge. "Those others, if we kept them, I'd be afraid of damaging with the first swing. One scratch and there goes half a million dollars. Seven blades worth selling, Francois, and one for me. Three million total only. After costs, it wasn't worth the risk."

I nodded, not wanting to tell Felix that I too had picked out a sword for my own keeping, knowing he'd override me anyway. If we'd gotten out all twelve, including the Muramasa and Masamune, then it would have been nothing. As it was, that one blade was the difference between profit and loss on the operation. Buying a cabin in Southern California mountains, even one that was barely more than a large hunting cabin, cost a lot of money, and when you added in things like smuggling, the percentage of the sale our dealer would take, bribes to the right authorities to get the blades out of Mexico where we were planning to fly from . . . that blade wasn't to be mine. "Don’t worry. We’ll contact our agent tomorrow, and carry on with the rest of the plan."

I
wasn’t feeling so confident
the next day when I hung up the satellite phone with our dealer. Felix let me handle the business negotiation side of things, he was far too blunt for many of the men we worked with, while I seemed to have a silver tongue. All the negotiation skills I possessed, however, didn’t hide the fact that our contact wasn’t pleased. I understood, neither were we. The most difficult part was that during the conversation, he insinuated that because of our less than optimal haul, our extraction would be delayed. I finally had to remind him that if he delayed in getting us out of California, he'd only be delaying getting his hands on the blades we did happen to get. It wasn't like we could just magically transport ourselves back into the museum and smash the glass cases around the rest of the blades and then be gone in the blink of an eye.

"He isn't happy," I said as I plugged the phone back into the battery pack that we'd brought up with us. The cabin didn’t have electricity or even running water, although it did have a hand pump connected to the aquifer directly outside the door. We'd lived in worse, but I was looking forward to getting out of the place. This pioneer stuff was not for me. "He says that the buyers will not be as willing to bid now that there is no chance for the best blades. He also told me the break-in made the news, although as you planned, we weren’t seen.”

"We never are," Felix commented. "Fucking Spaniards. I have known too many Spaniards in my life, Francois. Never, ever, trust a Spaniard!"

I could see Felix getting ready to start off on one of his angry rants, and I quickly moved to deflect him. "They'd probably say the same about our kind as well, Felix. Before we go into detailed discussion of the moral, cultural, and genetic failings of various nations, do you think we should get some breakfast ready? I was thinking, in honor of our devious dealer, perhaps we should prepare some huevos rancheros? I can see if Jordan is awake and ready to join us."

At the mention of Jordan, I could see Felix both cringe and brighten, so obvious to me, so hidden to anyone else. Then again, I guess when you’ve been around someone their entire life, you get to know them better than perhaps they even knew themselves.

Still, Felix had to play it off like he was granting me some great concession or something. "As you wish, Francois. But, let’s prepare the food first. I doubt that Miss Banks is still asleep, and she’s probably suspicious of us. I won’t give her a chance to escape because we’re not on our guard. This operation has gone bad enough already as it is.”

"Like I said, relax Felix. I checked the outside thermometer, it's below freezing out there. She's not going to run away into the deep forest wearing jeans and a sweatshirt without shoes on. She knows she'd die, and she doesn't strike me as a stupid woman," I replied. "But if you want, we can do our mise en place before I go to unlock the door."