Brown, Berengaria - Shared Possession [Possessive Passions 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

“It’s always yellow,” said Anh.

“What?”

“Any of the hidden doorways or entrances on New Thimphu. The lever or latch is always yellow. So if you find yourself alone somewhere you haven’t been before looking for the entry to the tunnel home, look for something yellow.”

“But how would I know which is the correct tunnel? Or whether to turn right or left?”

At the bottom of the staircase was another door, this one with a regular handle. The women led Chevaunne out into a sort of stoop area with a few more steps down into a curved tunnel.

Sam pointed to a mosaic-tile picture above the doorway. “All the original settlers had a family design. Something they chose to represent themselves. Each pathway to a house is labeled with their crest. Our ancestor planted rice and had four sons and two daughters, so our sign is a sheaf of rice, two red stalks for the daughters and four golden ones for the sons.”

Kiri pointed to another symbol, this one on the side of the tunnel. “At each join of a pathway to the main tunnel, you will see this symbol on the wall. The horse is always walking toward the community center. If you walk in the same direction as the horse, you are going to the center. By turning your back on the horse you are going toward your home.”

“Such a very simple idea, yet so clear. And much prettier than street signs,” said Chevaunne.

“One hundred years ago, not everyone could read and write. One of the earliest priorities of the settlers was to establish a school for the children,” explained Paul.

As they walked along the pathway, Kiri and Shiloah chattered about the community with Anh, interrupting them each time they passed a side tunnel or pathway to point out the signs. Chevaunne doubted if she’d remember all the information, but she appreciated their helpfulness and was gaining a genuine respect for these people. Everything was so simple to follow, yet so organized.

Jim moved up to walk beside her. “I need to explain what happens at the wedding ceremony.”

Chevaunne nodded, suddenly worried she may make an idiot of herself by doing something culturally inappropriate.

“We’re going to the temple. There in the courtyard, Father Yeshe will lead us through our vows and giving the gifts.”

“Do I have to say anything? What if I get it wrong?”

Paul held her hand. “You say, ‘I do.’ That should be easy enough to remember. The legalities are the same everywhere.”

“But there are three of you.”

“Yes. In the traditional ceremony, which comes first, we four marry each other, equal and indivisible. Then there is the legal section where you are married only to Jim since he is the oldest son,” replied Paul.

“One of the wonderful advantages for a woman having more than one husband is if you need support at any time and Jim isn’t able to be there, either Paul or I will be. You’ll never be alone and friendless, unsupported, Chevaunne. One of us will always be there for you. In the outside world, it will usually be Jim. But if for some reason he can’t be there, I will be, or Paul. Always.”

“You said something about gifts. I don’t have any gifts to give you. And you’ve already given me this beautiful belt.” Chevaunne let her fingers settle on the engraved buckle.

“There are traditional gifts the men give their bride. When the time comes for you to light incense to our ancestors, Anh, Kiri, and Shiloah will give you the incense sticks. You light them from our wedding candle, and Father Yeshe will show you where to put them.” Jim smiled down at her, making her heart leap at the tenderness and possession in his eyes.

“Don’t stress, beautiful lady. It will all be quite simple and obvious at the time.”

“And we’ll guide you through it,” added Shiloah, “kind of like bridesmaids do.”

Kiri giggled. “We’d be happy to help you
afterward
, too.”

“And George and Wang will be happy about that because—?” Anh chided her.

“If they don’t hurry up and choose me, I shall look elsewhere. Kevin and Jesse are pretty cute,” Kiri retaliated.

Chevaunne stopped listening to the women and looked around. The tunnel was wide enough for a car or truck to drive down with lots of wider places where vehicles could pass each other. It was as bright as day with strips of light fittings in the roof, and the walls constantly changed color, the paint blending from shade to shade—blues to greens, to yellows, to pinks, to purples, and back to blues again. Ahead, she could see what appeared to be a major intersection with other pathways entering from both sides. Up until now the various entries had only been doorway or stoop areas from various homes.

“Red, green, and blue apartment blocks are to the right, gold and purple to the left,” said Anh. “We’re building a new block—brown—down that road, too, as more Chinese men are joining the community looking for brides.”

“The shopping precinct and the temple are up ahead, not far now. Past the temple are the school, the hospital, and the administrative building. Off to the right, farther along, is the business zone and the hydroponic farm. I’ll take you to the farm and show you around next week,” said Shiloah.

“Because a lot of New Thimphu is hidden under a row of low hills, the city has developed linearly. But now we’re using the soil we dig out to extend, to cover over the buildings. Where the brown apartment block is being built was the end of the hill, so we made a prefabricated extension of it with timber and plastic, and then as we dug down to build the foundations, we used the soil to cover over the top of the buildings between them and the false outside layer. As soon as the grass has regrown properly, we’ll remove the wood and store it to use again another time. Soil is excellent for insulation from heat, cold, and sound. Even in the middle of winter, the temperature seldom drops below sixty, so heating and cooling are not much of a problem in here.”

Chevaunne smiled at Sam, grateful for his explanation. She hadn’t really thought about it yet, but there must be a lot of things she’d taken for granted living outside that now were issues to be worked around, problems to be solved for a people who hid themselves away most of the time.

She could see the temple ahead now, a large, white rectangular building. The roof was curved, and just below it was a red ocher stripe that went right around it. The walls seemed to slope inward, but likely that was just an optical illusion. There were a few windows high up under the stripe and one massive door.

As soon as they walked through the doorway, she realized that she hadn’t seen any other people. The entire township was inside the courtyard, laughing and chattering, waiting for the wedding. Luckily the courtyard was huge to accommodate such a gathering.

Near the front of the courtyard, closest to the entry into the temple itself, was a row of chairs with older people sitting on them. She saw Anh’s grandmother—great-grandmother—with the two men who’d accompanied her to the hospital. She looked well and was smiling and talking to the people beside her. Altogether, about a dozen people were sitting down and well over a hundred more were standing around with a herd of children corralled in one corner of the area.

An old man with a full head of pure white hair stood immediately in front of the entry to the temple proper. He was wearing a long robe of blues and greens, geometric shapes woven and intertwined so the colors blended into each other and shimmered as he moved. The monk, Father Yeshe, she guessed.

Her escort shuffled around her so she was in the center, directly in front of Father Yeshe with Jim, then Sam, then Paul on her right and Anh, then Shiloah, then Kiri on her left.

The monk raised both arms in the air, and silence fell on the community. Chevaunne was still somewhat in a state of shock. It was less than twenty-four hours since she’d been kidnapped. Only a day since she’d really met these men. She still didn’t know much about them, although she was gaining an appreciation for their lifestyle and culture. But still, she was moving into a whole new world, and she had no real proof this wasn’t some kind of mad cult who was going to make her a sex slave. Or some kind of human sacrifice. Or—

Surely they wouldn’t have dressed her in such beautiful clothes if they were going to sacrifice her. So, a sex slave. But then again, with the amazing orgasms she’d had last night, was sex slavery really such a bad thing? Besides, this was a marriage ceremony even though it was not like any other wedding she’d attended.

Chevaunne pulled herself together and listened to what the monk was saying. They were all to be equal partners in the relationship. Well, that certainly sounded fair. They were to respect each other and love each other. Easy enough to do with three such deliciously well-built and handsome men who had shown her nothing but courtesy—even if they had handcuffed her and carried her away from her home.

“Jigme,” said Father Yeshe.

Jim stepped in front of her, took her left arm, and slid a heavy gold bracelet over her wrist. “All that we own, or ever will own, is yours,” Jim said and kissed her gently on the lips.

The monk nodded to Sam who stepped in front of her, held her left palm up, and placed in it a perfect, ripe pomegranate. “We will always care for you and provide for you. This is our solemn promise.” Sam kissed her forehead, a light, butterfly-soft touching of his lips to her skin.

Next, Paul moved in front of her and placed a rosebud in her right hand, then turned her hand over and kissed her wrist. “We will love, honor, and cherish you, all the days of our lives,” he said.

Anh handed the three men each a small sheaf of rice and Chevaunne a stick of incense, taking the rosebud and pomegranate in its place. Chevaunne guessed she’d also been the one who had given the men the gifts at the relevant time from a woven textile bag she carried over one shoulder.

Father Yeshe lit a large, pure white candle and nodded to them all. The four of them stepped forward. Chevaunne understood she was to light the incense stick, which she did. The men then led her to an altar, and they placed their rice on it. Chevaunne laid the burning incense stick there, too, and then the three men surrounded her and each kissed her again on the mouth. Nothing erotic, but a proper kiss. She matched her response level to theirs.

Then the men turned her to face the crowd. The people clapped wildly, and a group of children ran to the front of the courtyard. They stood in two rows and performed a solemn dance with a lot of hand movements, making patterns with their arms and forming squares, triangles, and circles in little groups of maybe half a dozen children as part of their dance. It was an intricate, detailed dance and beautiful to watch. Three older men provided the music. One played a series of wooden pipes, which he blew into. The other two had stringed instruments rather like a lute or banjo. The music was achingly beautiful, evoking another land and another time.

After the children finished their dance, a team of young men brought long wooden tables out from a storeroom in a corner of the courtyard Chevaunne hadn’t noticed. More young men brought out folding chairs, and soon everyone was sitting in long rows while a line of young women brought in platters of fruit, pastries, and vegetable snacks.

Chevaunne was served first, then Jim, Sam, Paul, Father Yeshe, and the seniors. After that, the trays were placed on the tables and the men from the community served their wives and children.

Soon, it could have been a party anywhere with children running around playing, women sitting in groups talking, proud fathers carrying babies and toddlers on their shoulders, and young men slouching off to one side, kicking a ball around and eyeing the young women who pranced and flirted just out of their reach.

Many people came up to Chevaunne, introduced themselves, and welcomed her to New Thimphu. She tried to remember names and to connect the families together but knew she would have forgotten half of them by tomorrow. From the sidelong looks some of the young women gave Jim, Sam, and Paul, Chevaunne guessed they would have liked to be in her place. Once again, she was stunned by the fact that these men had come into her life and totally changed it inside twenty-four hours. It still seemed like a dream.

Just looking at her men made her hot, though, and she knew her wedding night would be beyond awesome if it was anything like last night. Jim, so muscular and strong, his shoulders so broad in his blue shirt. Sam, taller and leaner with long, delicate fingers that had done wonderful things to her body the night before. Paul, so smiling and filled with joy that just looking at him made her happy.

Oh, yeah, she was ready for her wedding night. Bring it on!

Almost as if they had heard her thoughts, the men swooped on her. Jim and Sam clasped their wrists together making a chair, and Paul lifted her up on their arms then walked behind her to steady her as she was carried through the crowd. They stopped and bowed to the monk then left the courtyard and the temple precinct. Out in the street was an electric golf cart decorated with flowers. The men placed her in it then climbed in beside her. With Paul driving, they left the area, pursued by a few laughing children and the cries and good wishes and suggestive comments of many people.