Kitabı oku: «Fire And Desire»

FIRE AND DESIRE

Fire and Desire
Brenda Jackson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to the memory of my baby sister,

LISA L. HAWK

January 14, 1967—October 8, 1998

Thanks for all those special moments

that I will cherish forever.

Acknowledgments

To my husband, Gerald Jackson, Sr.

You are my hero.

To my family and friends. Thanks for all the special things that you do.

To Brenda Arnette Simmons. Thanks. Once again your helpful feedback on the finished product kept me on track.

Thanks to my coworkers, who made my extended business trips to Minnesota and Illinois such enjoyable ones. And yes…they are finally out of the jungle.

To Raymond and Marsher Boyd, parents of the real Trevor Maurice. Thanks for being special people.

To Fabio Fasanelli. Thanks for sharing information with me about your homeland of Brazil.

And most importantly, thanks to my Heavenly Father, who gave me the gift of writing.

THE MADARIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS SERIES

Dear Reader,

I love writing family sagas, and I am so happy that Harlequin is reissuing my very first family series, the Madaris family. It's been twelve years and fifty books since I first introduced the Madaris clan, and in that time this special family—along with their friends—have won their way into readers' hearts. I am ecstatic to be able to share these award-winning stories with everyone all over again—especially those who have never met this family—up close and personal—in this special-edition collectors' series.

I never dreamed when I penned my first novel, Tonight and Forever, and introduced the Madaris family, that I was taking readers on a journey where heartfelt romance, sizzling passion and true love awaited them at every turn. I had no idea that the Madarises and their friends would become characters that readers would come to know and care so much about. I invite you to relax, unwind and see what all the hoopla is about. Let Justin, Dex, Clayton, Uncle Jake and their many friends transport you with love stories that are so passionate and sizzling they will take your breath away. There is nothing better than falling in love with these Madaris men and their many friends.

For a complete list of all the books in this series, as well as the dates they will be available in a bookstore near you, please visit my Web site at www.brendajackson.net.

If you would like to receive my monthly newsletter, please visit and sign up at www.brendajackson.net/page/newsletter.htm.

I also invite you to drop me an e-mail at WriterBJackson@aol.com. I love hearing from my readers.

All the best,

Brenda Jackson

Above all else, guard your affections. For they influence everything in your life.

—Proverbs 4:23

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Prologue

“Who the hell are you?”

The sound of the unfamiliar voice made Corinthians Avery turn around quickly. Her eyes locked first on the stranger's dark, handsome face, then drifted down to his bare, wet chest, before moving downward to the white towel covering his middle…barely. Her gaze flew back up to his.

Her throat suddenly became dry, but somehow she was able to conjure up a voice. She cleared her throat. “You're not Dex.” She quickly snatched her robe off the chair, shielding herself from him.

The man merely stared at her without comment. The only sign he gave that he'd heard her was the sudden lift of his brow. When seconds ticked by he finally spoke. “I know who I am, but who the hell are you?”

The man's rudeness, as far as Corinthians was concerned, was totally uncalled for. And it didn't help matters that he'd seen her outfit. How embarrassing! Could she have made a mistake and entered the wrong room? No, that could not be possible. Dex was to arrive for a two-day business meeting with her employer. She had made the reservations with the hotel herself, making sure they were given connecting rooms. So who was this man?

“I'm a friend of Dex's. Where is he?” she asked, suddenly feeling light-headed.

Trevor Grant's gaze took in the woman standing before him who'd been dressed in what he thought was the sexiest getup he'd ever seen on a woman. Too bad she had put her robe on. She had to be the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on. He couldn't help wondering who she was. Was this some sort of joke Clayton Madaris was playing on his brother Dex? It wouldn't have been the first time Clayton had gone a little overboard by sending one of his numerous female friends to liven up what he considered as Dex's dull and boring life.

“Did Clayton put you up to this?” he asked the woman.

Corinthians frowned. “What?”

“I asked if Dex's brother Clayton put you up to this. If he did, you're out of luck. He forgot to cancel you out.”

“What are you talking about?” Corinthians straightened her shoulders and met the stranger's gaze head-on. She tried putting out of her mind just how handsome he looked.

“You're looking for Dex Madaris, right?”

She nodded. “Yes. Where is he?”

The man continued to stare at her, seemingly totally nonchalant with his state of half-nakedness, but definitely not with hers. His gaze moved over her from head to toe, occasionally lingering in certain places. He acted as if he had X-ray vision and could actually see through her robe.

“Dex's home with his wife,” he said bluntly.

His statement came as such a shock that Corinthians had to lean against the bedpost. “You're lying. Dex isn't married.”

Trevor frowned. Not too many people called him a liar and got away with it. “Look. I don't know who you are or what you're doing in my room, but you're going to tell me, or you'll have a lot of explaining to do to Security. You have no right to be in my room.”

Corinthians could feel her head spinning. This couldn't be happening to her. Everything was going wrong, and this man claimed Dex was married.

“I know Dex got married a few years ago. But he got a divorce a short while later. Are you saying he got married again?” she asked him dazedly.

Trevor saw the bleakness in her face. It was obvious that whomever she was, she wasn't taking the news of Dex's marriage very well. He began having doubts she was someone Clayton had sent, but was someone who knew Dex personally. He came to stand before her.

“Dex and his wife were separated, but they never got a divorce. Now they're back together. All three of them,” he said.

“All three of them?” she asked softly.

“Yes, all three of them. Dex, his wife and daughter.”

The next thing Trevor knew, the woman had fallen in a dead faint at his feet.

Chapter 1

Two years later

Trevor Grant knew the exact moment Corinthians Avery entered the huge conference room. A tremor of heated desire shot through his entire body. It hadn't taken the alluring scent of her perfume to alert him of her presence. The primitive, male part of him had immediately set off his internal radar, warning him that she was within close range.

He shifted uneasily in his seat. The sensation he felt was not a new one, just an unwelcomed one. He'd been attuned to her since that night two years ago when they had met. The woman he held within his sight looked as she always did in his dreams, only today she was wearing more clothing.

A lot more clothing.

Last night, in the deep recesses of his sleep-induced mind, she was dressed in the outfit she had worn the first time he had laid eyes on her. It had been a skimpy black negligee that had barely covered her body. Even now, he could recall seeing her in it. Another slow tremor began in his stomach and spread down his body at the steamy memory. He shifted in his seat again.

It didn't take much to envision her as he had seen her that night. And it didn't take much to remember the shocked look on her face when he had been the one to walk out of the shower instead of the man she had planned to seduce.

Trevor allowed himself a small grin when he thought of her fainting at his feet after he'd informed her Dex Madaris was married. It had been his supreme pleasure to pick her up off the floor and place her on the bed, then watch her expression when she had come to and realized her carefully laid plans of seduction had backfired. Unfortunately the embarrassment of her folly had not curtailed her biting tongue or her fiery spirit. She had lashed out at him as if it had been his fault she had made a complete fool of herself.

Now here they were two years later, still bitter adversaries. She disliked him because he knew too much about that night, and he disliked her equally as much because he had seen too much that night. Way too much. And he hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep since without her and that skimpy black outfit invading his dreams.

Since she was head geologist for Remington Oil, and he was head foreman for Madaris Explorations, their paths had crossed a few times since that night. A little over a year ago, their companies had worked together on a major project, and she had gone out of her way to avoid him. At the time, her actions had suited him just fine because each time he had seen her, he had been reminded of a night he could not forget.

He watched her move around the conference room, greeting various business associates. She had not seen him yet so he continued to just sit and watch her, patiently waiting for the moment she would become aware of him.

Trevor leaned back in his chair and appreciated how her body moved with an unconscious gracefulness that he couldn't help finding seductive. The conservative navy blue suit she wore should have downplayed her beauty. Instead it fueled the fire within him because he knew just how sexy the body was underneath the tailored skirt and jacket.

His gaze continued its survey of her trim, five-foot-eight-inch curvy figure before zeroing in on her face, a perfect oval shape. It was the color of rich, creamy chocolate, and was a face any man would take a second look at. Her hair was a rich glossy black, and was a lot longer than it had been that night. The stylish cut framed her face and made her features more profound and even more radiant. He wondered how one woman could convey such an aura of total professionalism in a boardroom and be such a sensuous temptress in a hotel room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll take your seats, we can get our meeting underway,” Adam Flynn, senior exploration manager for Remington Oil, was saying.

Trevor watched as Corinthians glanced around the room, looking for an available place at the huge table. The smiling glint in her dark eyes immediately disappeared when she saw him. Flashing her a dimpled smile, he nodded. She frowned. Just as he had known, the gesture had teed her off. He enjoyed getting a rise out of her.

He saw sparks of anger leap into her eyes. His smile widened when he noticed the only available chair was the one across from him, and he knew she had realized that fact. His gaze held hers as she took her seat. With satisfied amusement in his eyes and without missing a beat, he said, “Good morning, Miss Avery. It's so good seeing you again.”

Knowing she was in earshot of others, he watched as she pasted a phony smile on her face and replied, “Likewise, Mr. Grant.”

He let out a deep, throaty chuckle. She could lie so well. He was the last person she would have wanted to see. The last time their paths had crossed had been at a wedding last month when his friend Clayton Madaris had married Syntel Remington's daughter, Syneda. Even then, the daggered looks Corinthians had given him would have sent most men running. But not him. He had accepted it as a challenge.

By the time the meeting was underway, Trevor relaxed in his chair. It was business as usual.

The look in Trevor Grant's eyes was hot, nearly burning her with its intensity, Corinthians thought. Each and every time he looked at her, his gaze was like a fire that heated her in some places and torched her to flames in others. She sat stiffly rigid in her chair as she tried to control the fiery emotions that flowed through her. How could the one man she despised arouse such feelings within her?

She tried getting comfortable in her seat, knowing his gaze was still on her. Her frown deepened. She would ignore him. At least she would try. She knew it would not be easy putting him out of her mind. She hadn't had any success in doing that since meeting him.

Corinthians had to grudgingly admit there was something totally sexy about the ruggedly built man with dark, piercing eyes. There was no way she could deny he was handsome. His black, curly, close-cropped hair was trimmed neat on his head. And his dark, coffee-colored face encompassed high cheekbones, a straight nose, full lips and a strong jawline that made any expression he wore serious, almost lethal. She knew he stood well over six feet four inches tall, and her memory of him that night with only a towel wrapped around his waist reminded her of wide shoulders, a broad hairy chest and long muscular legs. That image of him was still vivid in her mind.

Every time she saw him, his presence reminded her of the night she had made a total fool of herself. For years, she had thought herself in love with Dex Madaris and had finally made up her mind to do something about it. She had put her carefully laid plans of seduction into action, going so far as to get connecting hotel rooms and then sneaking into his room when she had heard him in the shower. But it had not been Dex who had emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. It hadn't been Dex whose virile, near-naked body had rendered her speechless…at least almost speechless. Nor was it Dex who now continuously haunted her endless sleepless nights. To her utter misfortune, the man responsible for her nightly tortures was sitting across from her. His full attention was centered on her, and she knew he was doing it to deliberately rattle her.

And it was working.

“Corinthians, are you still available to fly to South America to represent Remington Oil at the oil research summit?”

Corinthians gave Adam Flynn her full attention and replied with a smile. “Yes, I'm available to go and looking forward to the trip.”

“Good. And we'll look forward to hearing your report at our next meeting,” Adam Flynn replied. He then turned his attention to Trevor. “Do you know if Dex Madaris is still going?”

Trevor smiled at Corinthians before turning his attention to Adam. “Due to family obligations, Dex has relinquished all travel plans abroad for a while. I'll be the one representing Madaris Explorations at the meeting in South America.”

He turned and met Corinthians's shocked gaze. His smile deepened. “And I'm looking forward to the trip, as well.”

When the meeting ended, Corinthians tossed Trevor a chilling glare before quickly leaving the conference room. A smile of satisfaction curved his lips. The gauntlet had been thrown down and the battle lines were officially drawn. The bout was on and it would be a fight to the finish; a fray he didn't intend to lose. He wouldn't accept anything but Corinthians Avery's complete, unconditional surrender.

Her days of avoiding him were over.

Chapter 2

“Welcome to Rio de Janeiro, senhorita.”

Corinthians Avery smiled at the irony of the man's greeting as she signed the hotel register. She hadn't felt welcomed a few hours ago when she'd been detained at the Brazilian airport by a customs inspector who thought her luggage appeared a little too full.

“Thanks,” she responded in English, momentarily forgetting to use some Portuguese words she'd learned over the past couple of weeks.

“Would the senhorita like a cup of cafezinko delivered to your room later?”

Corinthians smiled. A cup of coffee, even strong, Brazilian coffee, sounded pretty good right now. “Sim obrigada,” she answered in Portuguese. She was awarded a smile from the hotel clerk for her effort.

“Senhorita, you have a message,” he said, handing her the key to her room along with a sealed envelope.

She opened the letter and scanned its contents. Call me when you arrive. I'm in room 301. Trevor.

A deep frown appeared on Corinthians's face. She crushed the paper in her hand and tossed it in a nearby wastepaper basket, feeling angry that she had wasted even a second of her time reading Trevor Grant's note.

“When did Mr. Grant arrive?”

“Yesterday, senhorita.”

She nodded. “Under no circumstances do I want my room number given out. And the only calls I'll accept are those from Remington Oil or from Reverend and Mrs. Avery. All others take down as messages.”

The hotel clerk nodded in understanding.

For the moment Corinthians felt a sense of relief in knowing she wouldn't be bothered by the likes of Trevor Grant…at least not for a little while. She would see him soon enough when the research summit began in a few days. As far as she was concerned, the less she saw of him, the better.

“Don't you think it's time you stopped avoiding me?”

Corinthians looked up from her meal and momentarily paused, startled by the beauty of Trevor Grant's dark eyes. She hated admitting it, but his glare made him appear even more handsome. But she also conceded that at the moment, standing next to her table in a menacing stance with hands on his hips, he looked downright threatening. Her eyes narrowed as she looked him over, noticing the casual way he was dressed, wearing a pair of khaki pants and a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. She wondered if there was any type of clothing he didn't look good in.

“I asked you a question, Corinthians.”

His sharp tone brought her gaze back to his face. “Trying to avoid you, Mr. Grant, would take too much effort, and I wouldn't waste my time on such a task.” She resumed eating, knowing in all actuality, she had been avoiding him since arriving yesterday.

“Then you shouldn't have a problem if I joined you for dinner,” he said, taking a chair across from her.

She frowned. “I do have a problem with it. It was my intent to sit here and enjoy a quiet meal.”

Trevor's face melted in a buttery smile, showing beautiful white teeth. “A quiet meal? I see no reason why you won't have one.” He glanced down at her plate. “I doubt that food will make any noise. Trust me, I'll be the first to leave if it does.”

Corinthians didn't find his words the least amusing. “Look, Mr. Grant, I—”

“I'm Trevor, remember.”

“You're whatever I see fit to call you. Just be glad it's not something a lot worse.”

Trevor leaned toward her. His eyes turned cold as he met her glare. “I'm not worried about you calling me anything but my given name. You're too much of a lady to do anything else.”

Color flamed Corinthians's cheeks as she reacted to his statement, not liking the emphasis he had placed on the word lady. He had insultingly reminded her of that night she had stood before him looking like anything but a lady.

Her facial muscles tensed and her glare hardened. No true gentleman would deliberately remind a woman of one of her most humiliating experiences. She sighed. If she was no lady, then he certainly wasn't a true gentleman. She was spared from telling him that fact when the waitress came to take his order.

“You look nice today, Corinthians,” he said after the waitress had left.

She lifted her head. The look she gave him indicated his compliment didn't faze her. However, since she'd been brought up with the belief that displaying good manners was essential, even to someone like Trevor Grant, she answered stiffly. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. And you smell nice, too.”

Corinthians stared into Trevor's eyes. “Why all the compliments? Let's be honest with ourselves, shall we? I don't like you. You don't like me. For reasons that I'd rather not get into, we don't get along. However, since our jobs occasionally bring us in contact with each other, I believe we can handle the situation like two professional adults.”

Trevor eyed her thoughtfully. “If you believe that, then why are you always avoiding me?”

“I don't always avoid you.”

“Then why haven't you responded to my messages?”

“I had a rather taxing flight yesterday from Austin to Miami. And to top it off, when I arrived at the airport I was stopped. Brazilian customs officials who went through every piece of luggage I brought with me detained me. By the time I checked into the hotel, I was too tired to be bothered by anyone.”

Corinthians sighed. That much of what she had just told him had been the truth.

Trevor raised a surprised brow. South America was known to be lax when it came to airport security. More drugs and contraband were smuggled in and out of this continent than any other place that he knew of, and usually under the airport officials' indifferent eyes. He wondered why she had been stopped. “Brazilian officials actually stopped you?”

Corinthians met his stare. “Yes. I was detained for more than two hours. It probably would have been longer had I not made a scene and threatened to contact someone at the American Embassy.”

At that moment the waitress returned with Trevor's meal. He had ordered churrasco, an array of different kinds of meats grilled on skewers. In addition to his glass of Brazilian brandy, the waitress also left him a small bottle of malagueta, a spicy sauce made from crushed, hot red peppers. When he uncapped the bottle, the spicy-hot aroma nearly took Corinthians's breath away.

“I can't believe you're putting that stuff on your food,” she said, watching him pour the sauce all over his meat.

He didn't look up when he replied. “Believe it.” But he did lift his gaze to meet hers when he added, “I happen to like hot stuff. Nothing stirs my blood more. The hotter, the better.”

The look he gave her, as far as she was concerned, was just like the sauce he had poured over his food: red-hot. She felt her insides sizzle from the heat. He was staring at her with those dark eyes of his, hard and intense. She took a shaky breath. “Then enjoy yourself.”

He smiled. “I will.” He lifted a skewer and with his teeth pulled a piece of sauce-covered meat into his mouth without flinching. He smiled a slow, seductive smile.

Corinthians tried hard not to stare, but watching him chew his food was having an arousing effect on her. An involuntary shudder of simmering heat ripped through her. Her gaze followed every contoured movement of his mouth. Its motion was slow, provocative and alluring. She could just imagine his mouth working those same slow, steady and measured movements on hers, smothering her lips with demanding intensity. She tinted a darker shade, mortified because she'd had such thoughts.

“Want some?”

The sound of Trevor's voice, deep and husky, startled Corinthians. She tinted at having been caught staring. She ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them before asking. “Want some what?”

Trevor leaned over toward her and whispered, “Some of my food, what else?”

Corinthians took a deep breath. He was back to being arrogant again. She frowned at him. “No, I don't want any of your food. Mine suits me just fine,” she snapped irritably, annoyed for letting him have such an effect on her. She had to get away from him to retain her sanity.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal,” she said brusquely, motioning to the waitress to bring her check.

“Where are you going?” Trevor asked, looking at her curiously.

“Not that it's any of your business, but I'm going to my room. I plan on doing some sightseeing in São Paulo all day tomorrow and want to get a good night's sleep.”

“Can I tag along tomorrow?”

Corinthians was startled. “I prefer that you didn't.”

Trevor didn't look up as he poured more sauce on his meat. “Why not? Like you said earlier, we're two professional adults.” He lifted his gaze to hers and grinned. “Surely we can put our dislike for each other aside for at least one day.”

“I don't think us spending time together is a good idea.”

“Why do you feel that way?”

“Because I do.”

Trevor pushed his plate aside. “Then let's discuss why you feel that way and really get to the crux of the problem. Don't you think two years is a long time for you to carry a chip on your shoulder?”

“I'm not carrying a chip on my shoulder. And I prefer not talking about that night. I don't even like thinking about it.”

“Then don't.”

“That's easy for you to say.”

“Not talking about it won't make it go away. That night happened, Corinthians. Get over it. However, I think it will make you feel better if we got it out in the open and discussed it.”

Corinthians doubted that. Her embarrassment and humiliation that night were too great. There was no way she could discuss how she felt, especially with Trevor of all people. He had seen her in a way no other man ever had. “What's there to say?”

“Whatever you want.” A part of Trevor hoped she would say her feelings for Dex were a thing of the past and that she had accepted his marriage. He hoped she wasn't like the woman who had become obsessed with his father and had destroyed his parents' marriage. The thought that she could very well be that sort of woman—scheming, conniving and manipulating—angered him.

“Get over Dex, Corinthians. He's a married man who loves his wife very much. You don't stand a chance.”

Corinthians's angered flared. Why was he telling her that? She knew Dex loved Caitlin. Anyone with eyes could see that. At the time that she had decided to make her move on Dex, she had not seen him in more than four years and had not known his marital state. When she had first gotten hired at Remington Oil right out of college at Grambling, Dex had been her trainer. They had worked together for a couple of years before he was sent to work in Australia. Although she had wanted him to notice her, he had only treated her fondly, like a sister. After the fiasco that night two years ago with Trevor in the hotel room, she had reevaluated her feelings for Dex. She had come to the conclusion that whatever feelings she'd thought she'd had for Dex hadn't been love, but an oversized amount of infatuation she'd harbored for him over the years. Even Dex's wife, Caitlin, knew she once thought herself in love with Dex. After meeting Caitlin and seeing what a beautiful person she was, both inside and out, Corinthians had felt that in order for her and Caitlin to have a true friendship, she needed to let her know what her feelings had been for Dex at one time. She had also made it clear to Caitlin that Dex was unaware she had harbored such affections. He considered her a good friend and nothing more. Caitlin had appreciated her honesty and forthrightness, and she knew Caitlin considered her a friend.

What bothered her now more than anything was not any feelings of love she still harbored for Dex, since she knew for certain there weren't any, but the unexplained feelings she'd begun to feel for Trevor Grant. He was the last person she wanted to feel anything for. The man had her pegged as some two-bit home-wrecker, for Pete's sake! That meant he didn't think a whole lot of her character. That angered her more.

“You don't know what I stand a chance of doing,” she said finally. “I've discovered when it comes to love, most men are fickle. Otherwise they wouldn't have mistresses, now would they?” she added, knowing her words would fuel his anger.

It did. Trevor's gaze showed his seething rage. When the waitress came to collect Corinthians's money, she turned her attention away from Trevor. After taking a calming breath, she decided to thank the waitress for her meal in the woman's native tongue.

The waitress's face suddenly turned a hot crimson and tears appeared in her eyes. She whirled and ran from the room.

“Why did you say something like that to her?” Trevor snapped.

Corinthians flinched at the harsh tone of Trevor's voice. She noticed the sudden quietness in the hotel's restaurant and that other patrons were openly staring at her. “What's wrong? I don't understand,” she said in alarm. “I merely told her I had enjoyed my meal.”

“No, you did not! You didn't even come close.”

Corinthians swallowed slowly, afraid to ask but knowing she had to. “Then what did I say to her?”

Trevor's glare deepened. “You told her she had the face of a dead horse.”

Shocked denial appeared on Corinthians's face. “I did not!”

“You did, too! I strongly suggest you brush up on your Portuguese before spurting off your mouth.” He then motioned for the attention of the restaurant manager, which wasn't hard to do since all eyes were on them anyway. When the man arrived at their table, Trevor spoke to him in rapid, fluent Portuguese.

Corinthians's mouth dropped in surprise. When the man rushed off in the same direction the waitress had gone earlier, Corinthians found her voice to ask, “Where did you learn to speak Portuguese?”

Trevor glared at her. “While in the Marines I learned to speak several different languages.”

Corinthians's face showed another shock. “You were in the Marines?”

“Yes. I was in the Marines for more than fifteen years.”

At that moment the manager returned with the distressed waitress in tow. Corinthians felt absolutely awful. One look at the woman and she could tell she'd been crying. “Oh, Trevor, please tell her that I didn't mean what I said and that my use of her language is rusty and—”

“It's not rusty, it's deplorable.”

Ignoring his comment, Corinthians continued. “Please tell her I truly apologize for what I said and that I didn't mean it. I was trying to tell her I enjoyed my food.”

In a soft, calming voice, Trevor began speaking in Portuguese. Corinthians noted the softening of the woman's features and the smile that stole onto her face. Whatever Trevor was saying was helping to smooth things over. When the woman looked at her and laughed before turning to leave, Corinthians raised a brow.

“What did you say to her?”

Trevor shrugged. “I told her everything you asked me to. I also shared with her a few thoughts of my own.”

“A few thoughts of your own like what?”

He leaned back in his seat and looked at her. “I told her that unfortunately you had a habit of placing yourself in embarrassing situations. Today wasn't the first time I've been a witness to such an event, and I doubt it would be the last.”

Corinthians's mouth dropped open. She couldn't believe he had said such a thing about her; and to a stranger at that. But the look he gave her said that he had. Totally peeved, she stood. “This was the last time you'll ever be a witness to any embarrassing situation I might endure.”

“I doubt it.”

Trevor couldn't help but grin when a very angry Corinthians Avery turned and walked off. He shrugged and resumed eating his food. So much for round one.

Chapter 3

Corinthians quickly left the restaurant and walked across the hotel's lobby, fuming. Her face was still stinging from the heat of embarrassment. Added to that was the humiliation of Trevor's words. She was so mad, her hands were shaking. As far as she was concerned, Trevor Grant was an arrogant and inconsiderate man. There was not a shred of decency in him. No respectable person would take joy in pointing out another person's misfortune.

Slowing her pace, Corinthians forced herself to slow her breathing and put a cap on her anger. He wasn't worth it. Exhausted and frustrated, she stopped in front of the elevator doors, then remembered she hadn't picked up her messages that day. Turning, she walked over to the hotel's front desk.

A few minutes later she was flipping through the numerous slips of paper that had been given to her. Trevor Grant and her brother, Joshua, were running neck and neck in the number of messages they had left. She crushed all the ones from Trevor, feeling a sense of satisfaction in doing so. She then turned her attention to those from Senator Joshua Avery. She wondered which was worse, dealing with Trevor or coming to blows with Josh. Although she loved her brother dearly, he could be a monumental pain at times. He thought since he was five years older, he had every right to boss her around.

She sighed. He also thought he could manipulate her into doing anything he wanted. As far as she was concerned, becoming senator had gone to his head. Although some people easily fell victim to his charm, she wasn't one of them. She had to constantly remind him that at the age of thirty, she was a grown woman who didn't need a big brother to boss her around.

Deciding not to wait until she returned to her room to make the call, she picked up a courtesy phone off a nearby desk and dialed the number Joshua had left on the messages. It was to his office in Washington.

A few minutes later, his loud, authoritative voice came on the line. “Senator Joshua Avery.”

“Hi, Josh. I got your messages. What's up?”

“Your timing is perfect, Corinthians. Rasheed is here. Why did you leave the country without letting him know when you'd be returning? He thought you would be available to accompany him to the presidential dinner this weekend.”

Corinthians raised her eyes to the ceiling. Joshua was forever the politician looking for ways to make connections. He had talked her into attending a dinner party given in Senator Nedwyn Lansing's honor a couple of weeks ago with Rasheed Valdemon, the thirty-three-year-old son of a sheikh from the Middle East. Rasheed's striking good looks, a result of his Arab father and Egyptian mother, were enough to make most women swoon. But not her. It had only taken one evening spent in his company for her to realize the two of them did not see eye-to-eye on a number of things. She would never be able to tolerate his beliefs on certain subjects, especially the rights of women. He was very proud of the fact that in his country, women were seen and not heard. And according to him, there was nothing wrong with a man having more than one wife if that's what he desired. He had phoned her a few times since then and had even flown from Washington, D.C., to Texas to see her, surprising the heck out of her when he'd appeared on her doorstep last weekend.

“I don't know how he could have thought that. I remember telling him I would not be going to that dinner with him.”

“I guess he's not used to being turned down.”

Corinthians frowned. She was getting fed up with arrogant men. “Then he needs to understand he's in America. In this country women have rights. I exercised mine when I turned him down. Now, if you'll excuse me, Josh, I need to go. Bye.” She hung up the phone before her brother could say anything else. No doubt he would suggest that she talk to Rasheed, and she wasn't in the mood.

After hanging up the phone, Corinthians turned to find Trevor Grant standing across the lobby, leaning against the wall looking at her. He just stood there staring at her with an odd expression on his face. Even from the distance separating them, she could see something flicker deep in the depths of his eyes. It was something dark, compelling and seductive. He was looking at her as if he could see straight through the material of her gauzy white sundress; every revealing detail.

Angry at the way her thoughts were going, she gave him a cutting look before turning and walking over to the elevators. When the doors opened, she quickly stepped inside. When she turned back around, she saw his eyes were still on her. She met his stare with her glare. She was glad when the doors closed, shutting him off from her line of vision.

Trevor straightened his stance. He wondered whom Corinthians had been talking to on the telephone. Whoever it was had certainly teed her off. He had picked up on it even from across the room simply by reading her body language and facial expressions. A deep scowl covered his face. Him trying to get a rise out of her was one thing, someone else setting her off was another. He couldn't help wondering if the person she'd been on the phone with was a man. He suddenly loathed himself for even caring. The woman had already proven to him that she had no scruples. She'd all but hinted at dinner that she had not gotten over Dex. He wondered if she was an obsessive type of woman. He knew firsthand the destruction an obsessive woman could do. Hadn't Paris Sanders been the epitome of an obsessive woman when she had been responsible for his parents' breakup?

At the age of sixteen, he had taken his parents' separation hard, not understanding the reason for it. At home, his mother was always despondent, and whenever he and his sister, Regina, went to visit their father, his mood was just as down-hearted. However, neither of his parents would reveal to their son and daughter the reason they had decided to live apart. And since neither of his parents had filed for a divorce, that had made the situation even more confusing to him. It was only years later, after he had finished school and joined the Marines, that he had found out the truth. Another woman had been involved.

At least that was what his mother had believed, although his father had staunchly denied having an affair with Paris Sanders. But the photo that had been delivered to his mother from Paris Sanders, a shot taken of his father holding a half-naked Ms. Sanders in his arms during a business trip, had sealed Maurice Grant's fate. Stella Grant had believed the worst.

Trevor placed his hands in the pockets of his pants as he continued to stare at the closed elevator doors. If Corinthians Avery thought she was going to make her move on a married man like Paris Sanders had done, she had another thought coming.

Washington, D.C.

“You Americans give your women too much freedom.”

Joshua Avery leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples upon hearing the statement from the man sitting across from his desk. “Look, Valdemon, I'm not my sister's keeper. According to Corinthians, she never agreed to be your dinner date this weekend. I mentioned to you two weeks ago that she was going to Brazil. Why didn't you find someone else to take?”

The tall, handsome man with dark, piercing eyes, skin the color of almond, and dark, straight black hair that reached his shoulders, gave Joshua a measured stare. “Because I assumed she would be back by this weekend.”

Joshua almost told him he apparently assumed too much, then thought better of it. The last thing he needed was enemies from the Middle East. In his quest to become the first Black governor of Texas, the one thing he needed other than the support of fellow Texans were allies in the Middle East. With Texas being the oil basin in the United States and the Middle East being where the major oil-producing nations were located, there was a lot at stake. In order to get American oil companies that were based in Texas to support him, he needed to make sure their counterparts abroad were kept happy and content. The last thing anyone wanted was a repeat of the monopolized oil prices that had plagued the nation in the seventies. Although Valdemon's native country was not an oil-producing one, it was still located in the Middle East. And his father, the sheikh of Mowaiti, was well thought of in Washington, D.C., and Valdemon was his heir.

He smiled. “I don't think Corinthians will be back for another week, so I suggest you find someone else to take. I also suggest that if you're really interested in my sister, you take another approach. She doesn't like being told what to do. I don't care how you might handle women in your country, we do things differently here.”

Rasheed looked aghast. “Are you suggesting that I let a woman rule me?”

Joshua raised his eyes to the ceiling. “No, I'm suggesting that you learn how to compromise.”

Rasheed's gaze was hard as stone when he spoke. “I know how to compromise. However, I practice the art of compromising with world leaders, and not with defiant women.” He stood and walked out of Joshua's office.

Prince Rasheed Valdemon left the Capitol building and stepped into a waiting limo. Once inside, he opened his briefcase and took out a manila folder. Flipping it open, he leaned back in his seat. Inside the folder was the profile on Corinthians Elizabeth Avery that he'd received six months ago. On top was a photograph of her. She was a strikingly beautiful woman. But unlike her brother assumed, her beauty wasn't what interested him. Her intelligence did. Specifically, her vast knowledge of the production and extraction of crude oil. Some claimed she had a sixth sense when it came to pinpointing the locations of unknown oil reserves.

A year and a half ago, she'd made history with her in-depth research and her uncanny ability to locate an unknown oil basin in the United States. It was the first to be found in more than fifty years. That had been quite an accomplishment and had gained her both national and international attention, especially in those countries whose main source of income was oil. Offers of employment had poured in from around the world, and she had turned them down, saying she was totally satisfied with her job as head geologist with an American-owned oil company, Remington Oil.

Rasheed shifted in his seat as he closed the folder. A deep, troubled look covered his face. His country had not been one of those who had offered her employment, but in truth it was his country that needed her the most.

The Middle East contained roughly seventy percent of all the world's oil reserves. Many of those basins rested within a few large fields, so most of the other countries in the region had relatively small quantities of oil or none at all. His homeland of Mowaiti was one of those countries that had none at all. The majority of his people were engaged in farming, and most lived harsh and impoverished lives. More than anything, he was determined to change that.

His father, Mowaiti's present leader, was ignoring the people's pleas of a better life. He regretted to say his father didn't have a vision. But Rasheed did. Unlike others, he believed there were oil reserves located somewhere in his country. What they needed was someone with the ability to find them.

Someone like Corinthians Avery.

Once the reserves were located, Mowaiti would emerge as a highly productive nation, and a powerful influence in OPEC. The discovery of oil over fifty something years ago had transformed Libya from a poor agricultural country, like Mowaiti was today, into one of the world's leading oil producers.

Rasheed placed the folder back in his briefcase. The decision had been made and a secret cartel had been formed. One way or another, Corinthians Avery would do for Mowaiti what she'd done for her own country. After spending time with her, he knew she would never leave the United States to live permanently in Mowaiti. He also knew the American government would never sanction her leaving the country for an extended stay in Mowaiti to help his country locate oil. To do so would be too political, and other impoverished Middle East countries would demand that the U.S. government provide the same services to them. And that would never happen for fear of the Middle East controlling all of the world's oil supply. Therefore, he'd been forced to take other measures.

Placing the briefcase on the floor by his feet, he finally turned his attention to the man who'd already been seated in the vehicle. “There better be a good reason why the Brazilian government did not follow my directive and apprehend Ms. Avery at the airport.”

Chapter 4

Corinthians felt her breath catch as she glanced around Praca da Republica, the city of São Paulo's most lovely park. The forty-five-minute air shuttle from Rio de Janeiro had been well worth it. She checked the travel brochure she held in her hand for what would be her next stop, and decided she needed to get something to eat first. She had skipped breakfast to catch an early flight out of Rio.

She knew from the information she had read that São Paulo was the largest city in South America, and was considered the financial, commercial and industrial center of Brazil. It didn't have the suave beauty of Rio de Janeiro, but its wide variety of international restaurants, fabulous shopping districts and parks and museums made it a popular place for tourists.

Corinthians smiled when she saw, of all things, a McDonald's, and was in total awe of how elegant it looked. She then remembered reading in the brochure that the hamburger chain had restored one of the last remaining manors that had once been a millionaire's mansion.

Entering the McDonald's, she sat down at a table overlooking the São Paulo Museum of Art. She smiled at the waitress who came to take her order, feeling somewhat strange to get such personal service. In every U.S. city that she knew of, such service was not provided. Most McDonald's had drive-thrus and walk-up counters for service.

After her disastrous experience yesterday in trying to speak Portuguese, Corinthians thought it best to stick with English. After the woman had left with her order, she decided to pay a visit to the ladies' room before her food arrived. Standing, she made her way toward the area where the facilities were located.

Leaving the restroom a few minutes later, Corinthians noticed two men hanging around in the hallway. She made a move to walk past them and came to a stop when they blocked her path. She frowned and looked closely at them. She swallowed. Their expressions were anything but friendly.

“Excuse me,” she said, and made another attempt to go around them and felt a sense of panic when they didn't move an inch.

Trevor entered the McDonald's and glanced around, not seeing Corinthians anywhere. He had been following her for the past hour or so, and she hadn't been aware of him doing so. Not that he had any complaints, since he had thoroughly enjoyed watching the sway of her hips as she'd moved through the streets of São Paulo. Her shapely thighs and small waist did a lot for the skirt and blouse she was wearing.

Deciding Corinthians must have gone to the ladies' room, he looked over in that direction. He stopped suddenly when he saw her surrounded by two men, and had a gut feeling they were up to no good. He cursed under his breath. Couldn't the woman go anywhere without getting herself into trouble?

Although there were a number of African-Brazilian women in the city, an African-American woman stuck out like a sore thumb. Especially one as beautiful and one dressed as classy as Corinthians. She made herself an easy target for anyone committing crimes against tourists.

Knowing he had to intervene, but that he had to do so in such a way that would cause as little trouble as possible, Trevor boldly walked past the men and right up to Corinthians. He leaned over and kissed her lips, effectively silencing her startled gasp. “Sorry I got detained, sweetheart. Have you ordered yet?”

At first Corinthians was too surprised at seeing Trevor Grant to say anything. It was as if he'd materialized out of thin air. She couldn't help wondering where on earth he'd come from. But at the moment, she didn't care. Although she understood his game plan, she was too shaken up to answer his question. She merely nodded.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “Good, then come on before our food gets cold.” Taking her hand in his, he turned and together they faced the two men.

Corinthians couldn't help wondering what the men would do now that Trevor was with her. She watched as he stared down at the two men with a look and stance that almost dared them to take him on. For a moment it seemed the standoff would go on forever, then finally the two men stepped aside and let them pass. Trevor continued to hold her hand as she led him to her table. Instead of them sitting down, he took some bills out of his pocket and tossed them on the table.

“Come on, let's get out of here. I know another place where we can eat.”

Corinthians nodded and let him lead her out of the door. She took a quick glance over her shoulder. The men were gone.

“Are you all right?”

Corinthians drew in a deep breath before answering. “Yes.”

After leaving McDonald's, Trevor led her over to a rental car that was parked not far away. After he opened the door she slid inside without asking any questions. She felt a sense of relief when he walked around the car and got in beside her.

She gazed over at him. “I wonder what that was all about.”

Trevor turned and stared at her before starting the engine. He could not believe she'd asked such a question. Before answering he tried calming his overactive male hormones. Even in the midst of danger, his body had immediately reacted when he'd made the mistake of watching her when she'd slid inside the car. The movement had inched her skirt up, exposing plenty of leg and thigh. Just thinking about what he'd seen made him ache in the worst way.

“What that was about was a simple case of thieves getting ready to pounce on their next victim,” he said slowly, starting the car and pulling away. He tried putting a cap on the anger he felt in knowing how close she'd come to that happening. He wanted to give her the third degree for not being more alert while alone in a strange city.

He glanced back over at her and could tell she was still pretty badly shaken up over the incident. The last thing she needed was for him to get on her case.

“But that doesn't make sense,” Corinthians said, leaning back in her seat. “I left my valuables at the hotel in Rio. I'm not even wearing any jewelry.”

“Yeah, but that Chanel purse of yours draws attention. It's probably worth more than the shacks some of these people live in.”

“You're kidding.”

“No, I'm not. Crime against tourists is high here.”

A few minutes later Trevor brought the car to a stop in front of a seaside restaurant. Even from the outside, the smell of grilled fish made Corinthians's mouth water. Whatever spices they were using had definitely tantalized her taste buds. She'd heard that the largest single influence on the preparation of Brazilian foods had come with the arrival of African slaves many years ago. West African cooking was firmly established on the Brazilian palate. Then later, with new arrivals of other nationalities from Asia, Europe and the Middle East, each made massive contributions to make Brazil's multiethnic cuisine unique, delicious and the best in the world.

Corinthians stood by Trevor's side at the entrance to the restaurant while he spoke in Portuguese to a waiter. She did not understand a word they were saying, but her curiosity was piqued when the waiter kept looking at her and smiling. Moments later they were led up concrete stairs to a balcony. Surprisingly, the room was deserted, so they had their choice of tables. After giving them menus, the waiter left them alone.

“What did you say to him?” Corinthians asked. After what he'd said to the waitress yesterday, she wouldn't put anything past him.

Trevor shrugged as he glanced at his menu. “I told him we were newlyweds and wanted to be alone.”

She leaned back in her chair and stared at him. “I can't believe you did that.”

“It got results, didn't it? Would you have preferred staying below in that crowded room? I thought you'd enjoy the view from up here.”

He was right. She did enjoy the view from up here. It was simply breathtaking. The photogenic beauty of the vast ocean that surrounded them moved her. Rising, she walked over to the edge of the deck and looked out, scanning the distance to where the blue sea ended and the coastal mountains began.

She turned to Trevor and smiled. “This is beautiful,” she said. “Thanks for bringing me up here.”

A hot stab of desire rushed through Trevor with Corinthians's smile. It was the first real smile she'd ever directed at him, and he suddenly felt off balance. She made a sultry image against the backdrop of ocean and mountains, while standing silhouetted in the sunlight. Of its own volition, his gaze took in everything about her, her outfit, her features, her hair…even the flat shoes she wore.

An exquisite pressure began building deep inside of him. He shifted in his seat, needing to regain control of his mind and most importantly his body. He didn't like the fact that she was putting him through changes.

“Don't mention it. And if you don't mind, we need to have our order ready by the time the waiter gets back,” he snapped.

Corinthians's smile sagged. She then took two deep breaths. The first was to ignore the urge to pour the chilled pitcher of water that was sitting on their table over Trevor's head at the tone he'd suddenly taken with her. The second was to downplay the heroic image that kept flashing through her mind of him—one man against two. He'd been an imposing force to reckon with when he'd come to her aid. No matter how much she wanted to forget that, she couldn't.

“Fine with me,” she snapped back. “I'm starving anyway.”

She walked back over to the table, took her seat and began scanning the menu. After deciding on an entrée, she looked up to find Trevor watching her.

“Is there a problem?” she asked, glaring at him.

Yes, there is a problem, Trevor thought. But it was his problem and not hers. The one thing a Marine didn't do was lose control, but he was doing that very thing around her, constantly. Whatever trouble he was having in dealing with it, was no reason to be outright rude to her. “Look, Corinthians, I—”

She held up her hand to silence him, her anger had reached its limit, and she felt it was time to get him straight on a number of things. “No, you look. I've had just about enough of your—”

She stopped talking when the waiter returned to take their order. “I'll have your seafood platter,” she said promptly, calmly. She decided to put her beef with Trevor on hold until after their meal. She could deal with him more effectively on a full stomach.

“And for an appetizer, I'll have some pão de queijo,” she added, wanting to try their cheese rolls that were made with tapioca starch and grated cheese. “I'd also like a glass of white wine.”

Trevor closed his menu. “I'll also have your seafood platter and some pão de queijo. However, bring me a glass of Brazilian brandy.” Before the waiter walked off, he added. “And bring me some malagueta with my meal.”

Corinthians shook her head. “Do you put hot sauce on practically everything you eat?”

“Just about,” he answered, meeting her gaze. An uncomfortable silence grew between them. “I didn't mean to snap at you earlier, Corinthians,” Trevor finally said. “But today has been one hell of a day.”

“You can say that again,” she said, taking a sip of water.

“Today has been one hell of a day.”

Corinthians tried swallowing back the laughter that formed in her throat, but couldn't, and laughed despite not wanting to. She was glad they were the only ones out on the balcony.

“Thanks,” she said afterward. “I needed that. And thanks for your help today. I don't know what I would have done had you not shown up.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “I'm really curious to know just why you were there.”

Trevor's hand tightened on his glass, needing to feel something cool against his skin. Corinthians's laugh had been a breathy, sensuous sound that had made his body feel heated. “I was doing the same thing you were doing, taking a tour of the city. I told you at dinner yesterday that I was coming here today. I even suggested that we come together.”

Corinthians nodded, remembering that conversation, then wishing she hadn't. “What time did you leave Rio?”

“Around ten. I got a late start because I requested a change in hotel rooms. Evidently the couple in the room next to mine are on their honeymoon. Their constant squeaking bed keeps me awake at night.” He didn't add that it also reminded him of what he'd been missing.

Corinthians shook her head, smiling, not sure if he was joking or telling the truth about the amorous couple. At that moment the waiter returned with their drinks and appetizers.

“What made you decide to go into the Marines?” Corinthians asked after eating a pão de queijo and taking a sip of wine.

“I heard they were looking for a few good men, and I was cocky enough to believe that meant they were definitely looking for me.”

Corinthians rolled her eyes. The man didn't lack any self-confidence. She looked at him speculatively. “I can see you as a Marine.”

“Why?”

“Because you're hard.”

Trevor smiled. She was right about that, but not in the way she had meant. He shifted around in his seat to ease the hard ache in the lower part of his body. “Marines aren't hard,” he said smoothly. “They're tough. There's a difference.”

Corinthians didn't think so, but decided not to tell him that. The man who had faced those two men in McDonald's that day had been both hard and tough. “I still don't understand how you did it,” she said.

“How I did what?”

“How you got those guys to back off without saying one word to them.”

Trevor took a sip of his brandy. “There're a number of ways to communicate. One is without words, but with the use of eye contact. People can read what you want them to know just by looking into your eyes. Another way is with body language. I used both eye contact and body language today. Those guys read me loud and clear. There was no mistake in what I was nonverbally telling them.”

Corinthians nodded. “Weren't you afraid?”

“For you, yes. For myself, no. A Marine has no fear. It's not in our mind-set.”

The waiter then returned with their entrées. Over lunch he told her more about the Marines and his decision to enlist. He told her how he had skipped college and entered the service. The recruiter that had come to his high school had offered him the chance to fulfill his lifelong dream of being a world traveler. He eventually got his college degree while in the Marines, serving his country for more than fifteen years.

What he didn't tell her was that he'd been so broken up over his parents' separation that he had needed to get away, and the Marines had provided him that escape. And what he had found was another family; a close-knit group of men and women who were ready, willing and able to fight for and defend their country.

After their meal the waiter brought over the check. Trevor paid for it.

“You didn't have to do that,” Corinthians said. “You've done enough already.”