"Always talking about seductions, tsk tsk. You are too naughty, Francois. Where does that come from?" I asked, patting his knee. "You know I'm only one woman."
"With a depth of soul more than able to handle two men," he whispered back. "But shhh, we don't want to scare the tourists too much. They might think us Europeans as nothing but a bunch of sex-crazed maniacs."
"You are a sex-crazed maniac," I teased back, causing him to give me another one of his rakish smiles. With his glistening white teeth, slightly dusky skin from his Romani heritage, and rugged good looks from the blend of his backgrounds, my body tingled, most of it focusing between my legs. The fact that I was wearing form-fitting jeans added to the tingles.
The ride into Paris was sweet agony with my body humming and Francois knew it. Every time I started to regain my composure, he'd supposedly innocently brush his forearm against mine, or his knee would rub against my thigh. It was just enough, even through the winter clothes we were wearing, to keep me trembling. "You're being incorrigible," I hissed at one point when his tricep just happened to rub against the side of my breast, my nipple hardening to a pebble inside my bra. "I swear I'm going to spank you for it."
"Oh, you like that too?" he whispered with a grin. "Careful, you just might get the chance."
Felix, on the other hand, just rolled his eyes at our banter. For him, sexual talk was usually confined to more private encounters, and he was never as blatant with his affections in public as Francois.
The bus rumbled to a stop near the Arc D'Triumph, and everyone got off. From there we took a taxi, leaving the tourists to their organized group. Taxis in France are much smaller than the ones I'd gotten used to in Los Angeles, and I felt jammed in, even with just Felix in the back seat.
I was shocked when we stopped on a wide, cobblestone street next to the river. "What are we doing here?" I asked, looking around. There were no apartments or houses nearby. "I thought we'd drop our bags at the house, you said."
"Poor choice of words on our part," Felix said apologetically. "It’s not technically a house," he finished, pointing to a barge on the river. "This is our house within Paris. Francois and I thought that you would enjoy a day or two here before we go to the Rhone Valley."
"You live in a houseboat?" I asked, and Francois shook his head.
"A barge, technically. While French barges can be powered, this one has no motor, and must be towed if we want it taken in for repairs or maintenance. Speaking of which, Felix, you did call for the annual maintenance, right?”
"Yes, before Charani came up here to visit," Felix said. He shouldered his bag as well as mine and led the way to the barge. "It was done before she arrived I think."
"Who is Charani?" I asked. There was so much I still had to learn about them. It wasn't that they were unwilling to share information, they answered everything I could think of with candor. But, growing up as the children of an international art thief and then going on to their own career, they weren’t the type to volunteer personal information unless I asked them directly.
"My mother," Francois said with a smile. "You’ll have a chance to meet her and Felix's mother soon."
I smiled and shrugged as we crossed the gangplank onto the barge. "Any advice? I'm not sure how to handle that part. I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that I'm with two men who are half brothers, yet were born minutes apart."
"Keep an open mind," Francois advised, keeping me in suspense as to what exactly that meant.
Chapter 16
Felix
Despite Jordan's enthusiasm for seeing Paris and taking a nap on the flight from Mexico, spending nearly sixteen hours in various airports, airplanes, and buses had exhausted her. Seeing that the sun was setting, she decided to go to bed early. I helped her into the main bed, tucking the blankets around her. “You know, I’m falling in love with you," I whispered as her eyes fluttered and she yawned. “And you know what? I don’t think I’ll ever tire of saying it.”
“And I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing it," Jordan said, kissing my fingertips while she wormed her body around under the covers. After nearly a month in Baja California, I had come to enjoy the warm days and relatively pleasant nights. While it wasn’t snowing in Paris when we landed, there was some crusted snow in the lee of the surrounding buildings and streets. The barge as well was not the best-insulated location we had, but it would serve for a few days. “Come to bed with me?” Jordan asked.