She felt her way down the dark hallway, back to the hidden door and down the stairs.  Reaching the doors, she listened carefully… he was still asleep.  Her footsteps were muffled by the Persian carpets scattered around the room, and if she could find those keys, she might be able to leave undetected.  After shifting and shuffling through his pants, she realized that they had no pockets… where were those damn keys?, she wondered, then remembered the other room, where he took the phone call.  Would her luck hold up long enough for another try?  She laid his pants on the floor and looked down at him.  In the soft candlelight, he looked almost ethereal.  He was a languid, sinewy piece of lust and power, and she fought the urge to lay back down with him… damn, it was hard to resist the possibility of it, but instead she crept up the stairs once again.  Carefully opening the door and expecting to find an arsenal of weapons and gadgets, she flipped on the light.  Much to her surprise, it was a laundry room.  It didn’t appear to be used that often… the detergents were lined up carefully on a shelf opposite the door, and the baskets were stacked neatly in a corner.  Hanging on a hook near the washer, she saw a set of keys.

“What are you doing in here?”.

She whipped around to face him.  For a moment, he looked gentle, almost docile… she couldn’t allow herself to feel guilty for trying to escape.  “I was looking for… towels.  So I can take a shower.”.

He said nothing.

“Where do you keep the towels?  Upstairs?”, she plunged on, stepping towards him hesitantly.  His face was completely expressionless, then broke into a mask of distrust.

“Were you trying to escape?”, he asked, forcing a hint of coolness in his voice… the tightness in his throat gave away his emotional side.  She could feel him slipping back.

“No… baby, no…how could I possibly leave after what happened between us?”, she cooed, shocked at hearing herself say this.  She never planned to say anything like that, to placate him with those words. 

“If you’re not careful, you’ll break my heart.”, he murmured, echoing the sentiment he shared with her in the helicopter.  “I don’t think you want to know what that would make me do…. “.  Heather averted his gaze and looked down.  His fists were clenching and releasing, rhythmically.  Instinctively, she stepped back and leaned against the washer, and he followed her path, storming across the room and then stopping abruptly.  He was inches from her; she could feel the anxiety radiating off him.  Lifting one hand, he caressed her cheek and she flinched reflexively but he didn’t back away.  “You could hurt me, Sinclaire… in some ways, you already have….”.  His moist, tender lips traveled across her throat, and she felt her pulse quicken.  “But I forgive you, baby.  I know you don’t really mean it.”.

She felt her nipples stiffen under his touch and wished she had the strength to push him away, but he had her again… he knew her hot spots, both physically and mentally.  She was actually starting to feel sorry for him, unable to abandon him for fear that he would fall apart.  Castor’s tongue traced a path down her neck and across her cleavage, and she shivered compulsively as she ran her fingers through his thinning hair and pulled him a little closer.  As if to shield himself from her touch, his sweaty hands grasped her wrists and pinned them down on the washer, taking her completely by surprise.

“Don’t even think about leaving me… I’ve spent too much of my valuable time and energy to bring you here, and you still don’t appreciate that.”.  He pressed himself against her, his menacing aggression melting into a fever that overtook him all at once.  “I’m the only man that can make you happy.  I can give it all to you, if you want it… money, power…”.  He released her wrists, sliding his hands up her thighs and under her dress.  Time and time again, he left himself vulnerable to her, and still she did nothing to gain the upper hand.  Was she beyond help at this point?  Was she so weak that she could be controlled by this lunatic?  She tried not to look into his eyes, but she couldn’t avoid them… his lips and tongue were all over her.  He was determined to take her completely, devour her, make her disappear so that no one else could take her away from him.  “I’m going to make you want me… I’ll break you down and control you, and then you’ll be mine forever.”.

Heather knew exactly what she had to say to win him over.

“Do you promise that you’ll take me with you everywhere you go, baby?  I don’t want to leave you… I had no idea how powerful you really were until now….”, she said, smothering his forehead with light kisses.  She immediately felt his whole body start to uncoil with each affectionate touch.  “I didn’t want to admit it, but… you’ve got a good thing going here.  The guys you’ve hired, the technology…”.

He was still staring her down, but this time she didn’t avert him.  His eyes reflected a strange, empty resemblance of warmth.  “I’ve got connections all over the world… what you’ve seen is only the beginning.”.  He openly responded to her kisses, ,holding her face gently and nuzzling her ear.  “Do you really like it, Sinclaire?  It really gets your panties wet when you think about all the power I have, doesn’t it?”.

Without waiting for an answer, he reached under her dress… he was right.

Laughing softly under his breath, he lifted her up and sat her on the washer, pulling off her thong in one fell swoop.  The cool air against her skin felt so good.  He worked his way down her body, dragging and lapping his tongue between her legs ferociously until her body was in ecstasy.  He couldn’t get enough of her, and was determined to follow through on everything he had promised… to make her worship him and crave everything he had.  Wrapping her legs around him, Castor unzipped his pants slowly and guided her hand to his cock.  He was as ready as ever, but this time he wasn’t going to tease.  “Can you handle it?”, he whispered.  “I’m gonna make it even better this time… you’ve never had a **** like this, I promise…”.  Reaching around her, he turned on the washing machine.  She rested her upper body on his and let him do all the work, and he seemed to greatly prefer it that way… he skillfully lifted her legs a little higher and rocked inside her in rhythm with the machine, plunging and angling himself to touch every inch of her.  Running his fingertips deftly over her clit, he massaged and tickled it, making her nearly fall apart with exquisite pleasure underneath him.  He was simply fantastic, and had amazing endurance.  After a few minutes, she closed her eyes and focused on nothing but the pulsations and the thrusting and his hot breath on her skin.  She could almost feel her body milking him, silently begging him for more and more.   His moaning and grunting echoed around them, and he just kept on giving until he thrusted one final time, gripping her waist and pushing her down on his cock violently.

Between the vibrations of the washing machine and the heavy breathing, Heather could barely hear anything… except for the soft ringing of a cell phone.  Castor jumped off her and searched through his pants frantically while she pulled herself together and went into the bathroom.  After soaking under the warm water for awhile, she felt more like herself… This is getting ridiculous.  You can’t get strung out on the dick, she scolded herself.  Here she was, somewhere in the Canary Islands, and she was no closer to finding out the reason for that meeting in Vitória than she was in the beginning… and how long ago was that, anyway?  A day?  Two days?  She had lost track of time completely.

As she was drying off, Castor stuck his head in.  “We’re leaving in a hour.  I brought you fresh clothes.”.  His demeanor was cool, detached, somewhat professional.  After he left,  she opened the door and peered down the hall.  On a nearby door, a red satin gown and matching shoes hung on the knob.  He even brought her fresh lingerie, and she was a little embarrassed by this though she wasn’t sure why.  The outfit suited her perfectly, and she hoped against hope that it was just something he had lying around, before she was even a blip on his radar.

After hastily drying her hair and touching up her lipstick, she went downstairs.  Pollux was in the dining room, greedily wolfing down some cold pizza.  He barely acknowledged her as he pored over a large map spread out on the table.  “Lover Man is in the kitchen… he sucks at cooking, so I hope you like chilled shrimp.”.  Castor was drinking a glass of wine, nibbling at shrimp cocktail and talking on the phone again.  When she walked into the room, wearing the dress and shoes he brought her, he glanced up and looked her over appreciatively.  The conversation he was having was rather one-sided… she wondered how he managed to block the signal from satellite surveillance.  Maybe she could weasel it out of his little brother?  Glancing over at him and watching him wipe grease off his face with his sleeve, she prayed she wouldn’t have to use the same tactics she’d been using on Castor.  Instinct told her it would do no good anyway… he came across as mostly asexual, maybe only jerking off to Internet porn or something even more disturbing.

As she was eating, Heather remembered the tape recorder hidden behind the plant.  When she was finished, she stuck it inside her purse discreetly, hoping they would end up somewhere halfway civilized and away from the eyes of his goons, where it could be dropped off.  A soft knock on the door startled her, and she debated on whether she should answer it or slip away, but Pollux came up behind her and opened it before she had a chance either way.

“We’ve found the end of the rainbow.”, said a voice from outside.  Pollux merely nodded his head and stepped aside, and Heather couldn’t help but wonder what kind of code phrase that was supposed to be.  The visitor shuffled in, meek and a bit awestruck at his surroundings, although he looked every bit as affluent in a black pin-striped suit and gold cufflinks.  He was tall, a bit huskier than Castor, with gray wavy hair pulled back in a ponytail and a cheesy smile that hovered above a scarred chin and turkey neck.  Without saying another word, he walked into the dining room with Pollux and sat at the table.  She noticed that he was glassy-eyed, his movements forced and reticent.   Either he was very sick or very stoned – she suspected the latter.  Upon seeing the guest, Castor wrapped up his call and strode in.  The visitor stood up to greet him.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to see me.  I hope the shipment was intact…”, he sputtered, hanging his head humbly as he addressed Castor.

“Yes… it was quite adequate.  A smashing assortment of merchandise.”, he glibbed charmingly.  The visitor seemed relieved.

“So we’re going ahead as planned?  Whenever it’s most convenient for you, of course…”, he questioned, and Castor patted him on the shoulder as he escorted him back out the door.

“Has there ever been any need to worry before?  You know me… you know I won’t let you down.”, he assured him.  “Please don’t consider me rude, but we do have a schedule to maintain.  You know the routine… people to do, things to see…”, he laughed as the man went on his way.  After shutting and locking the door, he turned to face Sinclaire, with a hint of fire and steel glinting in his eyes.