The Fool Ch. 03

His family had, over time, amassed several great collections over several continents, including her homeland of Australia. He once again wondered just how good her intelligence gathering resources were and if she had found the discrepancies in his profile from one country to another. Time would tell, and he looked forward to the dance he was about to lead her through as he slowly revealed himself to her.

"So you agree to live with me, and curate my collections," Sinclair said as they waited for their desserts. They'd skirted around the issue without her committing one way or another during their dinner. In this public place, they spoke carefully in coded sentences about the offer he had made and his reasons for it.

"Collections?" Carrie asked in surprise. "There are more than one?"

"Yes, my family have always been avid history buffs and collectors of relics from seafaring cultures. I have quite a large collection of Viking artefacts, as well as notable local pirates at my home in the United Kingdom as well as my home in the South Pacific region," Sinclair nodded.

"And your other homes like the one in Myanmar, no doubt?" Jordan asked, showing he had done his research thoroughly.

"Yes, there too," Sinclair nodded, quietly impressed that they had found one of his more obscure international profiles.

"No need to look surprised. You knew I would look up the name from the burn phone yesterday and other unusual variations of your name," Jordan commented as if he would say more but paused and didn't speak again as Carrie looked at him questioningly.

"In my line of business, it pays to make the most of an unusual name," Sinclair brushed it off. "Carrington, you still haven't answered my question," he said, focusing his attention back to Carrie again.

"I think you have a point about safety in numbers, and if I am with you then perhaps you, and they, will realise I am anything but a Fool, and look for the real thief," she smiled at her pun. "And, if, as you said, you would help with our business at the same time, then perhaps it will be an interesting endeavour to learn from and about each other." Throughout her little speech she neither said yes nor spoke of their intimate relationship. It was as if she was negotiating a strictly business partnership.

"Work and play," he mused out loud, and considered her as if daring her to deny the intimate play that would be involved in their relationship. Theirs would not be a strictly business arrangement, and, if she believed that was what he was offering her, she was sorely mistaken. Still, if she wouldn't say it, he would say it for her. "So, you agree to come and live with me with everything that entails," he said carefully, seeing Jordan stiffen and acknowledging that the younger man was jealous.

"And all that entails," she said sombrely, as if being forced into the decision to be his full-time lover. "It will be safer for everyone," she said, her eyes flickering to Jordan momentarily.

"Good," Sinclair declared, having finally gotten a definitive answer from her. "I suggest you keep the house here as a base for working with the museum and your staff. We'll be here at the hotel for at least another week. You can leave most of your belongings where they are and just pack enough for a week or two. I travel a lot and expect you to accompany me between my homes." For whatever reason, she had kept things businesslike tonight, and he would play her game, for now.

"I'll be staying in London, so there is no need to move any of her belongings, aside of the clothes she needs to pack," Jordan explained quickly, taking the actual moving of her belongings out of the equation entirely despite Sinclair's assertion that it wasn't necessary. In his mind, this move would be nothing more than a business trip for Carrie if she kept everything where it was. She would still come home to him for anything she might need in between her travels.

The trio was silent as the waiter arrived with dessert and they each began to eat. Sinclair watched Jordan carefully. Blind Freddy could see that there were feelings beyond brotherly love there. He'd seen it last night, and now he was convinced. The events of the last two days made him believe that Jordan could be easily compromised if he thought Carrie was in real danger, and he filed that information in the back of his mind in case his plans for her didn't play out in his favour.

Jordan was happier seeing Carrie keep Sinclair at arm's length by keeping the whole conversation on a professional level during the dinner. They sat on opposite sides of the table, and he was spared watching them touch in any intimate way. The image of them sitting together on the couch the night before rose in his mind, and he shook his head to dispel it.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," Carrie got to her feet, "I'll be back in a few minutes." Carrie walked away from the table, taking a deep breath. The tension radiating from Jordan was almost as impossible to bear as the bristling she felt from Sinclair as she had avoided answering him directly tonight. The most frustrating thing of all was that she was letting their moods get to her. She was the ice princess. A totally focused and determined woman who had a promise to fulfil so she could finally lay her mother's demons to rest and be free to live her life as she wished. She looked back over her shoulder at the two men as she entered the bathroom.

Sinclair had watched Carrie move through the crowded restaurant. There was no doubt about how much he was attracted to her on a physical level, and he shifted in his chair, turning back to Jordan as the sparkling blue sequins that covered her toned body disappeared from his sight. He noted that Jordan, too, had been watching and smiled.

"Tell me something, Jordan," he began in a friendly manner. "Just how long have you been in love with your sister?"

"I've loved her my whole life, or at least since becoming her brother," Jordan tried and failed to cover his shock at the question. "I'm not in love with her, however."

"I thought we agreed that if you didn't act like a moron I wouldn't treat you like a one," Sinclair said with an edge to his voice.

"I could say the same to you. I'm sure you know all about my current lover," Jordan bristled.

"That's fair, and originally I thought you used Carrie as a beard in some instances, but now I think it's your boyfriend who's the beard to hide the fact that you love her in a not so brotherly way. Does she know?" He asked, not wanting to argue the point any further.

"I don't know what you're fishing for tonight, but you're not going to find anything between Carrie and I except the close bond of siblings," Jordan said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"So, she doesn't know," Sinclair chuckled. Jordan's body language told him all he needed to know. Carrie had obviously quite firmly put him in the brother only zone at some stage, and he was defensive about it. Sinclair decided not to press the point any further, for now. "She's an amazing woman. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had fallen in love with her. I've never met anyone quite like her before. She's," he paused as he considered the younger man, "challenging. In a good way," he added with a smile.

"Challenging," Jordan mused. "I guess that's one thing we can agree on." He smiled then, a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Which brotherly threat would you like me to make, the one where if you hurt her I will hunt you down like the dog you are, or the one where I tell you in graphic detail which animal I will feed your balls to if you hurt her?"

"I've never had a threat from a brother before. Which do you recommend?" Sinclair asked with a perfectly straight face.

"Personally, I prefer the hunt you down like a dog one, for effect, it's short and to the point," he said easily. "In fact, I have pretty much said it, so consider yourself threatened."

"Duly noted," Sinclair nodded and took a sip of his drink. "Should I reciprocate with a threat of my own?"

"Depends on how strongly you feel about Carrie or about being threatened, I guess. You could go with righteous indignation, which always works well," Jordan suggested. "Considering this is more of a business arrangement than a love match, I'd stay away from a declaration of loving her so much that hurting her would more painful for you."

"Righteous indignation it is then," Sinclair agreed. Having Jordan like him on some level was far preferable to having to argue with him, and therefore Carrie at every turn. "Let's go with something along the lines of, I know my reputation, but it's all lies, and I promise to treat your sister like the princess she is, good enough?"

"Not bad, just keep her safe, she has a habit of finding..."

"Trouble," both men said together and chuckled.

They talked lightly about Carrie and her formidable skills that often led her to dangerous or risky situations where she didn't seem to see the reality of what she was doing, such was her self-confidence.

"I imagine letting herself be caught by me at Miles house the night of the theft must have been one of those times where you were the only one anxious about the risks," Sinclair said, still in the jovial voice of the burgeoning friendship they had found in their mutual love of Carrie.

Jordan looked up, startled momentarily, but quickly recovered in his denials and confusion, making Sinclair smile as he caught that split second of surprise that had registered on Jordan's face. He was definitely the weak link in their partnership, and, as Carrie returned to the table ceasing their conversation, Sinclair considered how he could exploit the small chink in Carrie's armour without either of them being aware. He grudgingly admitted that Miles stunt might have given him even more information than he had expected.

"I thought we might get away for the weekend," Sinclair said, taking Carrie's hand across the table. "I've been cooped up in the city for too long, and, being a couple now, it wouldn't hurt to be seen together at an event a friend of mine is hosting."

"I guess I could use a break. Do I know your friend?" She asked.

"I doubt you've met him, but you probably know his name," Sinclair stroked his thumb over her knuckles. "Freddy can be a bit unsocial, but his wife throws a good house party," he said easily.

"Freddy?" She frowned.

"Freddy and Carter Avery," he confirmed for her. "You're welcome to come if you want, Jordan," Sinclair offered, keen to bolster a friendship with the young man and cement his standing as Carrie's lover rather than a business partner in the younger man's mind.

"Any other time I'd jump at the chance, the Avery house parties are legendary, but I can't this weekend," he said regretfully. He was surprised by the invitation and looked at Carrie who was thoughtful.

"Oh, that's right, you have the challenge this weekend," Carrie blinked as if suddenly remembering. "I totally forgot I'd promised to go and cheer your team to victory."

"What's the challenge?" Sinclair asked, genuinely interested.

"Carrie calls it the nerd Olympics," Jordan laughed self-consciously. "Basically, engineers, scientists and innovators from several universities and corporations compete in a series of events around sustainable energy."

"We could come back Sunday for the finals, assuming the preliminary rounds will be on Saturday to weed out the non-professionals," Sinclair suggested.

"No need, the finals won't be for a few weeks, this is just one of several preliminary rounds. Go and have fun, I'll let you know how we did," Jordan said without rancour. The last thing he wanted was Sinclair seeing his skill with long distance drones and making the link to the disappearing pistol. "It's not the weekend yet, though, so I better be getting home."

"Me too, I guess I need to do some packing," Carrie agreed and picked up her purse.

"It's probably best if you pack a bag for the weekend tonight so we can leave straight after work tomorrow. I'll drive you home, and we can put it straight into the car," Sinclair offered. "You don't want to be leaving your car at the museum over the weekend or catching the Tube with your bag. It'll be easier that way." Not waiting for her to argue with him, he signalled the waiter and signed the check to have it charged to his room.

*****

Sinclair battled his need to befriend Jordan with his need to impress upon him that his relationship with Carrie was never going to be a strictly business arrangement. From the time they left the restaurant and went to his car, he had maintained physical contact with Carrie while keeping a careful watch on Jordan's reactions.

When they arrived back at the house, Jordan had walked through doing his usual sweep leaving Sinclair alone with Carrie for a few minutes. He pulled her tightly against his body and kissed her deeply, feeling her slowly relax in his arms.

"I'm glad you made the right decision tonight," he murmured in her ear, breaking the kiss. "It will make everything much easier on us both from now on."

Carrie looked at him quizzically but said nothing. Jordan came back into the living room, and she attempted to step back out of Sinclair's embrace, but he held her tightly, the knowing smirk playing across his lips as he bent his head to kiss her again before releasing her. Carrie saw a strange look pass between the two men as she put distance between herself and Sinclair, and wondered what had passed between them in the last twenty-four hours that she didn't know about to make Jordan act like a jealous lover and Sinclair to be so affectionate with her in front of him. Wanting to avoid any further strangeness or conflict between them, Carrie spoke into the silence.

"I'll go pack," she said, "Do you want to help me? I have no idea what to pack for a house party."

"I highly doubt that," Sinclair chuckled, "I'd be more than willing to help though, if you offer me a night cap while we pack."

"Hennessey?" Jordan asked cutting into their conversation. "Or we have port, Taylors and Sandeman."

"Hennessey would be great," Sinclair smiled, unsurprised that Jordan and Carrie would have a well-stocked bar. "Let me give you a hand," he said, walking toward Jordan and taking Carrie's hand as he passed her. Jordan led them to the back of the house, which was open plan with common areas around the kitchen and wide French doors opening up to the backyard. It was perfect for entertaining and parties, though they had never hosted any here themselves.

"This house is much bigger than it looks from the street. It might make more sense for me to move in here when we're in London rather than living in a hotel suite," Sinclair said thoughtfully, wrapping his arm around Carrie's waist. "What do you think, Carrington?"

"It makes sense," she said slowly, "but it would be up to Jordan, the house is half his."

"Makes sense," Jordan echoed her words. Part of him was thrilled that she would still be here at least part-time, but part of him cringed at the idea of having to share his private space and equipment which held all their secrets with a man he viewed as the enemy. "I expect you'll be travelling quite a bit anyway, and it's always good to have a home base."

"Are you sure?" Carrie could hear the reluctance in his voice.

"It's not like we don't have the room, and as long as you respect my space, I'll respect yours," he looked directly at Sinclair as he poured the Hennessey into three small balloon glasses.

"Excellent, I'll move in next week before we leave to look at my artefacts," he said. "Now, about that packing?" he asked Carrie.

Jordan watched Carrie lead Sinclair back through the house and up to her bedroom. He knew he had just been manipulated again, and hated that this man seemed to suddenly be taking control of, not only Carrie's life, but his own. He hoped she was right and that they would be able to pull it all together after the holidays and finish this job once and for all.

Leaving the front room lights on, Jordan followed the others upstairs and went to his study. With the impending arrival of Sinclair as a housemate, he needed to ensure anything sensitive was fully secured in his study. When they'd first moved in, they had renovated the upper floor, so they both had a Master suite with bathroom and private study. Neither of them had ever brought lovers home to stay before, and Jordan found himself craning his head to listen to the low murmurs he could hear from the other end of the house.

"You have wonderful taste in clothes, whatever you decide to pack is fine with me," Sinclair said easily. "If you're asking my preference, however, I wouldn't mind seeing the midnight blue dress you wore on the night we met make a reappearance."

As if it was something she did on a regular basis, Carrie had packed an overnight bag quickly with all the essentials and had asked about the party itself and evening wear. At his words, she took the dress and matching shoes, placing them in a travel bag that could hang in the back seat of his car. It was a good choice, she agreed, as any wrinkles incurred during travel would hang out easily the following day.

Freddy Avery was one of the Hats, and she wondered if this weekend was a test for her and how many of the other Hats would be in attendance. Would they all recognise her if she wore the blue dress? She had no plans to do anything even remotely suspicious, so it didn't matter, but the idea struck a chord with her, and she turned to face him.

"I might pack the teal one as well, just in case," she said thoughtfully.

"In case what?" he questioned. "In case you want to seduce one of my friends?" he raised his eyebrows at her. "That dress has a power all of its own, if you are talking about the teal dress you wore the night we fought."

"Don't we do that most nights?" She laughed at his disapproval of her taking the dress.

"That's just foreplay, we both know who wins those little bouts of aggression," he smirked, and she shook her head. "Not tonight, not with Jordan just down the hall."

"Why not tonight?" Sinclair moved with lightning speed and pinned her to the wall beside the walk-in closet, holding her hands beside her head. "I doubt he thinks we have been playing tidily-winks each night you have spent with me." He lowered his head to kiss her, pressing his body against hers.

"True," she said breathlessly as the kiss ended. "He doesn't need to hear just how rough that foreplay can get, though."

"So, submit to me without arguing for once," he said huskily, enjoying the feel of her chest rising and falling against his.

"Something tells me you wouldn't enjoy that nearly as much," she teased.

"I don't know. It might be nice for a change of pace," Sinclair placed a hand on her shoulder and applied downward pressure. "You can finish any last-minute packing in the morning," he commanded, as her knees buckled and her hands went to his belt as she knelt between his legs.

Had they been in his hotel room she would have fought the dominance he held over her when it came to their intimacy, but she could no longer deny the chemical attraction she had to this man. It might be interesting to see what would happen if she just gave in to those feelings for a change, she considered his words.

Looking down, Sinclair watched as she freed his cock and her dark red lips, still stained by the lipstick she had worn during dinner, wrapped around the head of his cock, making him groan appreciatively. He braced his hands on the wall before him and held back the urge he had to thrust his hips forward and make her take more to the point of gagging on him.

Carrie's lips worked their magic, and she could hear his moans of pleasure. Her hands worked his pants slowly down his legs until they bunched around his ankles. She ran her hands back up his legs to his thighs and, catching him unawares, pushed hard, making him stumble backwards. She hadn't wanted to fight him, but, unable to resist the vulnerable position he'd put himself in, she'd done what she always did and took advantage of the weakness she saw.