Jan thought a moment. “One more question, then, your friend’s kidnappers, do you have any idea just who you were dealing with? By that I mean did they use names? Had you ever heard of them before they kidnapped your partner? He must be more than a boyfriend, for you to go to such lengths to rescue him.”
“Boyfriend! Armande isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my half brother.”
Jan sat down on the sofa and slowly set his coffee on a side table. It was a move so he could gather his thoughts. Jesu! He can’t mean Armande Bonnet. So that’s what Joachim meant by a dead Romanov!
“Stephen, I’m confused. Larry said he was your boyfriend. You’re saying he got it wrong.”
Stephen sat next to Jan and sighed. “He jumped to that conclusion, when he heard what I’d done—buying the Vice-Regal Diamond so it could be cut up and given away—and rather than fend off his interest in me, I let him believe that. Don’t get me wrong. I like Larry. I like him a lot. He’s a good man underneath all that flash and sarcasm—but as a boyfriend?” Stephen shook his head. “No. The truth is, I don’t have a boyfriend. I never have. As for the diamond, it’s gone—God knows where.”
Jan looked at Stephen. Being close and alone stirred him once again. It had been years since he held someone in his arms or felt the spasms of sex wash over him. This is not the time. How do I tell him it was all for nothing?
“Larry said you might be able to help me. What did he mean?” Stephen said.
“Stephen, you have to prepare yourself for a shock….”
Chapter 35
Bad News; Bitter Drink
“I’LL HAVE another,” Stephen said, sliding the empty glass toward the bartender at the members-only Wren Club. Behind him a jazz combo played a passable rendition of “For Once in My Life.”
“Sir, I think you should go easy on—”
Stephen glared at the man behind the bar. “I’ll decide when I’ve had enough. Refill, please,” he drawled, mocking the courtesy of the word. Once the sidecar—his fourth so far—arrived, he stared at the amber liquid without tasting it.
Armande, why did you have to be so fucking noble? What did you accomplish, except to break every heart that loved you? And for what? I don’t know. No one can tell me. Even Jan, kind, supportive Jan, beautiful Jan, couldn’t, or wouldn’t say for sure. With the thought of Jan came an unfamiliar stirring in Stephen. He ran his hand through his hair in a failed attempt to distract his mind from thinking about Jan. Stephen’s heart, unused to anything approaching love for another man, was gradually coming alive, warming to the very one who brought the promise of a new happiness, and crushing sadness.
God, what are you up to? Is this a game? You give me a man I could love, and then….
Chapter 36
Two nights later
THE RAP at his door startled Jan. He’d been thinking about Stephen the better part of two days. He found the fact that he was drawn to him unsettling. It’d been a long time since he felt interested in anyone. Jan wasn’t sure if Stephen was the kind of man who would be happy with him, and only him. Yes, there was sex. That could be had easily enough, he was sure. But would the young Romanov be content with more? Jan checked the clock on his study desk. Eleven o’clock. Who could that be at this hour?
“Is it too late? I can come back tomorrow.” Unshaven, unwashed, Stephen Romanov stood at Jan’s doorstep.
“Of course not!” Jan said without hesitation. “Come in.”
Once Stephen was in the light, Jan gasped. “Stephen! You look awful! When did you sleep last? More to the point, when was the last time you had a bath?”
“Got anything to drink?” Stephen asked.
“I have hot tea, or warm milk.”
“Nothing stronger?”
“Under the circumstances, I don’t think you need anything stronger.”
Stephen lifted his arm. “I guess I do smell a little ripe.”
“Ripe enough to make a pie,” Jan said without laughing.
Jan took Stephen’s hand in his. It was the first time they had touched since meeting at the Sinclair party. “Come on upstairs. You take a shower. I’ll get some tea on to brew.”
“Why, Mr. Phillips,” Stephen slurred, “are you trying to get me naked?”
“As much as I’d love to see you cocked and ready for action, I think getting you clean and refreshed would suit the moment better. Besides, we need to talk. I assume that’s why you’re here.”
“I… I’m not sure why I’m here.”
“Then let’s find out, shall we?”
Jan turned down the bed and waited just outside the guest bathroom door with a mug of hot tea and two aspirin.
Stephen emerged wearing a thick towel around his waist and another draped over his head. Jan looked at him for a long moment.
“You look as if you’re about to perform a ritual sacrifice in some ancient temple.”
“I feel as if I’ve been the one sacrificed.”
“Well rouse yourself—you’re still alive.” Jan handed Stephen the aspirin and tea. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”
Stephen downed the aspirin and tea, and then fell back onto the bed. He let the towel fall away from his groin. Jan reached out and carefully replaced it.
“Too obvious?” Stephen asked.
Jan smiled. “Too soon.”
Stephen closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I didn’t realize I was so tired.”
Jan pulled the damp towels off and then flipped the bedcovers over Stephen. He allowed himself a brief glance at Stephen’s soft cock. Impressive. Oh, these Slavs.
“Sleep,” Jan soothed as he switched off the light.
“Good night… Jan… and Jan, thanks.”
Jan turned at the door. “For what?”
“For making this easy.”
Chapter 37
The following morning
PHILADELPHIA WOKE to a fiery sun burning through a halo of thin clouds. A remnant of a light fog clung to the ground, making Camac Street’s uneven brick paths slippery. This, the weatherman predicted, would soon be replaced with a steep drop in temperature and an early season snow, significant accumulations possible.
Amal’s early morning prayers said and shopping done, he changed from his western clothes into a traditional cotton thwab woven with black and silver threads. He had begun preparing a midmorning meal for Jan and the man in the guest room when Jan entered the kitchen.
“Amal?”
“Yes, Effendi?” Amal said, turning.
“I’m going out for a walk. I’ll be back in about an hour. What are you making for us?”
“Quiche with asparagus.”
“With mimosas?”
Amal nodded without further comment. After he heard the front door close, he picked out a bottle of pink Champagne from the wine rack. Putting the wine in the refrigerator, Amal shook his head in disapproval. My master will never see paradise if he keeps drinking this stuff!
“Good morning.”
Startled, Amal turned. Stephen stood in the doorway dressed in a long robe of black Thai silk. “Oh, good morning, sir. Forgive me. I did not hear you. My master has just gone out for a walk. May I get you some coffee, or tea?”
“Tea, please,” Stephen said as he sat at the kitchen table. “I found this robe on the bed. I assumed it was for me.”
“Yes, sir,” Amal said. “I put it there while you were still sleeping.”
“Forgive me if I’m being rude, but, who are you?”
“My name is Amal. In my language, it means, he who labors with a pure heart.”
“Do you live here, Amal?”
“Oh yes. I have been with Mr. Phillips for many years.”
Stephen asked, “Just what do you do for Mr. Phillips? I mean, are you a servant?”
Amal placed a china teacup on the table. Filling the cup with green tea, he considered the question. “I have never thought about it, sir. It’s true I serve my master, but I am not a servant. He is my master, but I am not a slav
e. Our relationship is rather formal, yet I am a trusted friend.” Amal looked at Stephen for a moment, then continued. “Pardon me, sir. You look confused.”
Stephen smiled sheepishly. “I suppose I am.”
“My master will be home soon. I have an asparagus quiche in the oven. It is his favorite breakfast.”
“Smells delicious…. With mimosas?” Stephen said.
“Yes, sir, with mimosas.”
“Great! I love mimosas in the morning!”
Amal shook his head. Another one!
Chapter 38
Aïda Fabian: The Sage
“MORE TEA?” Aïda Fabian said, pouring a fresh cup for herself.
“No thanks,” Jan replied. “I’ve got to get back home. Amal is making brunch for Stephen Roman and me.”
“You mean Romanov, don’t you?”
Jan eyed the old woman for a long minute. “How do you know his real name?”
Aïda chuckled. “You think the FBI has an organization? Kat Manlove told me.”
“How much more do you know about him?” Jan asked.
“Only that he’s a Russian royal and a Danish prince… and that you’re head over heels for him.”
“Am I?”
“Aren’t you?”
The old woman reached out for Jan’s hand. Finding it she said, “You should be thinking about settling down again. After all it’s been quite some time since you got connected—so to speak.”
Silence.
“Jan, have I strayed too close?” Aïda sounded worried.
“No, you haven’t strayed too close. It’s just that I’ve gotten around to admitting it to myself. Add to that, according to Stephen, he’s never had a partner, let alone a boyfriend. I’m not sure I want to go through basic training with a man who is attracting so much attention.”
“Well, Jan, I know the word on the street is that Stephen is quite good-looking.”
“Precisely. What do I do if I fall in love and it all falls down? There’s an old saying in the gay world, that a lover is what you have until someone sexier comes through the door. Suppose I spread out all my fine feathers, and someone sexier comes through the door and walks all over them? What if he decides he likes somebody else?”
“Jan, this is so unlike you!” Aïda said, carefully setting her teacup on the table. “However, if you want to play what if, try this. If you risk nothing, you lose nothing, but you also gain nothing—you remain alone. If you risk your heart, and if he returns your love….”
“Mrs. Fabian, you’re about as subtle as a punch in the nose!” Jan said laughing, yet not feeling any joy. Adding, “No guts no glory, eh?”
“You could put it that way,” Aïda replied. “You’ve got to decide what you want, and what you can live with. Jan, you can outrun something chasing you, but you can’t outrun what’s inside of you. Michael is gone, and you are still here.”
Michael’s name kicked up a storm of emotion. A storm Jan had hoped had blown itself out.
“Did I ever tell you how I met Michael?”
Aïda cocked her head to one side. “No, I don’t believe I know that story. But Jan, you have to admit, you’re not exactly a blabbermouth when it comes to your private life.” Aïda leaned forward. She whispered, “Was it exciting and romantic?”
“I stepped on him.”
“You what!”
“It’s true. Daniel had just moved into his very own apartment at the Pantheon, across from the art museum… a big deal for a young lawyer.”
“I remember when the Pantheon was built. That was before my accident. The views of the river and the mall are breathtaking.”
“They are. Daniel was lucky to get one. I was driving up from the beach in my Porsche and I thought I’d stop in Chinatown and see if I could find him an apartment-warming gift. He’d been a student for so long, I was sure he’d be house bare. Most of the shops were closed, but Michael’s import shop was still open. The lights were on, but I was so busy looking up at the shelves that I didn’t see him sorting out some boxes on the floor.”
“Oh my!”
“Oh my, indeed.”
Jan closed his eyes, letting his heart feel that first moment.
“Not the most propitious beginning to romance, is it?” said Aïda.
“No, but Michael was so sweet. By the time I left, I’d spent a small fortune in guilt money. I had bought so much that it wouldn’t fit in my car. I had to return later that evening with my station wagon.”
“You have a station wagon?”
Jan put a finger to his lips. “Shh! Mustn’t tell anyone—image, you know.”
Aïda giggled. “Your image is safe with me…. So what about Michael?”
“I asked him to have dinner with me at Judy’s. I figured if he knew Judy’s was a gay-owned gay-operated café, he just might be gay himself.” Jan paused for effect.
“Jan, you’re killing me with suspense! Did he know, or was your quest to be more involved?”
“Fortunately for me, he did. But I almost lost him before we got a chance to begin a life together.”
“What happened?”
“Michael knew about the law firm of course, but he didn’t know about Mundus. How could he? He ran a small import store, where the most intrigue he experienced was a Chinese cartel forcing importers to sell out, and then manage the very stores they had once owned.”
“But Jan, he did learn about Mundus, didn’t he? You couldn’t have kept it secret for long.”
“Oh yeah. He learned all right. You remember the guy who tried to kill me at the beach house?”
“Of course. He’d been stalking you for weeks, right?”
“Yes. I’d hoped to get him to the police without making a big splash, but some hotshot local reporter caught wind of the affair. I’d asked Michael to come down to the shore. It was his first visit at the house. Unfortunately, the morning newspaper was delivered while I was in the shower. Michael read the story. I found him in a duck blind out in the dunes.”
Jan let their conversation play in his mind like a scratchy record. Jan, this sounds like something out of a movie. I can hardly believe it!
Believe me, Michael, it’s no movie. I tried to keep you out of this part of my life, but now I know that I was wrong. It was unfair to you and I’m sorry.
“But it worked out in the end,” Aïda said, smiling. “If you’re seriously considering Stephen, then you can’t expect to hide Mundus from him… at least not for long. If you do, he’ll feel lied to.”
Jan sighed and nodded. “You’re right, of course. The truth is, I’m very busy with work.”
“Now that sounds like a cop-out to me,” Aïda said without emotion.
Jan shook his head wearily. “Stephen has lost his father, his mother, and his brother… and I lost Michael. You know, Mrs. Fabian, a whole relationship isn’t made by connecting two broken halves.”
“You two aren’t broken,” Aïda said, smiling. “You’re just sore.”
Jan said, “Maybe so, but there is a wrinkle. Stephen knows about his half brother’s murder in Iran. He also knows I know some of the details. What he doesn’t know is how I know. He doesn’t know about Mundus, and if I get deeply involved with him, there’s no way I can keep it from him for very long. The danger Mundus brings with it made Michael half-crazy with worry, but I was sure of Michael. I could trust him… but Stephen? I’m not so sure.”
“Before I was blinded in the car crash, I used to worry about that too. Bill—I don’t think you ever met him—was a talker… especially when he’d had a few drinks too many. My Mundus role wasn’t as vital to it as yours is, but still I never discussed it. But Jan, your situation is very different. You’re a Mundus Master. You can’t work with Stephen not knowing. If you tried to keep it from him, and if he found out, he’d feel betrayed to… and he’d be right.”
“Aïda, you’ve pointed the way into the maze. Now all I have to do is find my way out.”
“It may not be as difficult as you think
. Now come give me a kiss, and get back to your prince.”
Jan pushed himself out of his chair. “Thanks for being so kind. It means a lot to me. By the way, do you think you could spare some time? I need your advice. It may become a Mundus affair.”
“Mundus? Sounds serious. Why not now?”
“Sorry, I have a ton of work to get through today.”
“All right, come whenever you like.”
“I promise I won’t take up too much of your time.”
Aïda smiled. “I’ll be here.”
Chapter 39
How the Other Man Lives
“I SEE Amal has already taken care of us,” Jan said as he joined Stephen at the breakfast table.
“Yes,” Stephen said. “He’s quite a fellow. Where did you find him?”
“Egypt. I offered him a job with me and he accepted.”
“He called you his master and….”
Jan shook his head, warding off any ideas Stephen might have. “Amal may not be old, but he’s definitely old-school. It’s just the way he expresses himself. It doesn’t signify anything more than that.”
The two men ate in silence, washing down the last morsels of Amal’s quiche with what was left of the mimosas.
“I could get used to this, but I have to eat and run. I’ve got to get back to my digs before Glacier gets it in his head I’ve abandoned him,” Stephen said.
“Who is Glacier?”
“I’m renting a bride’s cottage on the Fisher estate in Bryn Mawr. Glacier is my dog. I’ll need to call a taxi. I left my car at home.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll drive you home. If I know Amal, he’s already cleaned your clothes and laid them out for you.”
“Now I know I could get used to this!”
THE BRIDE’S cottage was a small two-story structure made of gray fieldstone, topped with a roof of cedar shingles that was covered in a thick layer of emerald green moss. The house sat in a secluded glen at the end of a narrow lane. Thick belts of Canadian hemlocks covered the steep hills on either side of the road. Jan could just make out the rooftop on the Fisher mansion atop one of the hills.
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