"Then why fly in here?" I asked, somewhat confused. "Other than convenience?"
"We never fly into the same airport we flew out of," he explained in a low voice. "It was one of the rules our father taught us and one that we still keep. Remember, this is Europe, moving between the different countries is fairly easy. Especially as French citizens, moving through the European Union is easy. And of course, Felix and I have passports from a few different countries."
I relaxed and held Francois's hand while Felix led us through the halls and to baggage check and immigration. I was nervous as I presented my new passport, which stated that I was Jordan Burrows, originally from Winnipeg, Canada. "It’ll help explain why you have a North American accent, as well as the fact your French is still quite atrocious," Felix explained when he had handed me the fake papers. "The French will assume you only got a few lessons in school and that it was from a Quebecois. Just be glad that we won’t be staying in Paris for a long time — they are the most arrogant of all the French when it comes to language."
"Passport please," the customs official said, shaking me from my memories. As French citizens, Felix and Francois were in another line, and I could feel my forehead dot in sweat as he examined my passport. I kept seeing in my mind him hitting a button, and two armed French policemen coming out to escort me away. What a way to begin my new life, being arrested the first time I tried to use my new identity.
Instead, the official nodded as he looked at my documents. "You will be staying a month, Miss Burrows?"
I nodded. "Yes, my boyfriend invited me to stay with him in France."
"He is a French citizen?"
"Yes. He's over there," I said, pointing toward the other line where Felix and Francois were waiting behind an old couple who looked like they'd probably been married somewhere around the time Garbo was lighting up the screen. Thankfully, the official didn't care which of the brothers was my boyfriend, he just glanced over and then back down at my papers.
"I see. Well then, enjoy your stay in France," the official said, stamping my passport. The papers already carried a Mexican stamp as well, an actual one that we'd paid dearly for after the fake passport. He handed it back to me, and I waited a bit for Felix and Francois to exit their line. As usual, they were bickering. It was amusing.
"We could have been through faster," Francois griped. "You were the one who had to get behind the deaf people."
“It was the shortest line," Felix replied patiently. "Besides, it’s not like we’re that inconvenienced. You see, Jordan is just fine, thirty seconds of unprotected exposure to France has not harmed her. Come, let’s go to the house."
Francois grumbled but held his words, seeing the amusement on my face. He hated that I chuckled at the bickering he and Felix had, I think because in his eyes I was laughing at him more than just being amused by the whole situation. “Let’s catch the bus."
"Why not the train?" I asked. "Wouldn't that be faster?"
"Yes, but Felix here doesn't like the cameras and security all over the train platforms," Francois explained in what sounded more than a little like patronizing good humor. "Not after just getting off of a plane."
The bus from the airport into Paris was crowded, but nothing I hadn't expected. Francois sat next to me while Felix sat across the aisle of the bus, which was packed with a lot of Asian tourists. I noticed a few words of Japanese that I'd picked up in the few weeks I'd worked at the JANM, and snickered behind my hand.
"What is it?" Francois asked, leaning over.
"The man up there was saying this wasn't like Disneyland," I whispered. "I guess he thought France would be like It's A Small World or something."
Francois laughed quietly and nodded. "That happens a lot. And what are your expectations?"
"Romance, excitement, lights, and good food," I replied. "Think Paris can provide all of that?"
“That and more," Francois purred in my ear. "In fact, if you aren’t careful, you may end up seduced by it."
The soft whimper in my throat made us both chuckle, mine weaker than his. It was one of the other differences between the brothers. With Felix, the month in Mexico had been filled with intimate, sensual encounters that were as much explorations of each other's souls as they were of our bodies. We'd had sex in bed mostly, where I was left blissfully satisfied every time.
With Francois though, there was a thrill of adventure and naughtiness. With just a single phrase or twinkle in his eye, I was left helplessly aroused, ready to jump his bones in just about any situation. For us, sex was athletic, passionate, and hot. We'd pushed boundaries that I'd never done before, including in the waters of the Gulf of California while Felix rested on the sand only fifty yards away.