Double Dealing(32)

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."

"After I get some clothes," I complained. "I feel like I'm going to be exchanging wardrobes on a regular basis with you two.”

"Not quite," Felix replied. "I packed some of your clothes in my bag, and Francois is out right now getting something more appropriate for here. In the meantime, jeans and t-shirts for breakfast?"

"Shower first," I said, stretching again. "It's been a week since I had a proper shower, and while you French guys are supposed to be into it and everything, I need a proper hose down and rinse. I can smell myself, and it's not good."

Felix chuckled and leaned in. We kissed, our lips slowly molding around one another. His tongue traced my lower lip and I opened up to him, pulling him in closer. He was an amazing man, and I felt desire wash through me. I was tempted to pull him further onto the bed when my bladder gave me a warning twinge, and I let go with regret. It seemed my bladder and my libido were in constant conflict over how to start the morning with Felix around because that was twice now. "Sorry. Toilet, then shower, then we'll see what happens."

The shower was small but adequate, with the hot water flowing freely from the shower head, stabbing wonderful needles of heat into my upper back and shoulders. I was just finishing scrubbing my skin when the door to the bathroom opened, and I heard someone come in. "Felix?"

"No, it’s me," Francois said. "I came back from shopping and wanted to leave this on the counter for you. I'll let you finish."

I came out of the shower to find a beautiful skirt and blouse resting on the countertop. Light cotton, the billowy skirt was striped in aquas, light greens and hints of pink that looked like it came from the ocean itself. The blouse was a simple, slightly translucent cotton sleeveless blouse that felt light and airy in my hands. Wrapping my towel around me, I took the outfit into the hotel room, where Francois and Felix were sitting and discussing things quietly in French. Turning to me, Francois's face fell. "You don't like it."