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Fire and Desire
Brenda Jackson


Two years ago, geologist Corinthians Avery had brazenly sneaked into a hotel room to seduce Dex Madaris, head of Madaris Explorations and the longtime object of her affection. But the man who emerged from the shower to find Corinthians clad in next to nothing was handsome foreman Trevor Grant.When a smug Trevor informed her that Dex was not only absent from the trip, but at home happily married, Corinthians was mortified.Now, stuck in South America on a business trip with Trevor, Corinthians tries to avoid him at all costs. If only his broad shoulders and wickedly sexy smile didn't send her senses into flames. Their hotel falls under terrorist attack, and Corinthians has no choice but to place her trust in Trevor. As the two make a daring escape into the war-torn streets, fear for their lives suddenly turns to feverish desire, as they both give in to the hottest danger of all. What neither of them realizes is that one sultry night of passion under the luminous Latin skies will change their lives forever….












FIRE AND DESIRE




Fire and Desire

Brenda Jackson





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


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.”

Just wait until you get back to the hotel and find out what else I've done, Trevor thought as he stood from his seat. “Hasn't anyone ever told you that a woman shouldn't turn down a free meal from a man?”

Corinthians smiled. “No, probably because any smart woman knows that nothing is free, especially if it comes from a man. There are usually a few strings attached.”

Trevor chuckled. “Trust me, there are no strings attached, so relax.”

When they returned to the car, he said, “How about if we tour the rest of the city together?”

Corinthians grinned. “So there weren't any strings attached, huh?” She thought about it for a second then said, “How can I say no after you've fed me so well? You certainly can't be any more of a nuisance than those two men at McDonald's.”

Trevor laughed. “Gee, I hope not.”

They visited the São Paulo Museum of Art and spent some time in a number of the upscale shopping centers that were all over town. They even visited the Butanta Institute Snake Farm and went to a horse race at the Jockey Club.

It was late afternoon when they decided to call it a day and catch a flight back to Rio so they could be well rested for the research summit the next day.

“I'm walking you to your room,” Trevor said when they both stepped inside the hotel's elevator.

“That's not necessary,” she assured him, appreciating the offer. Although she didn't want to admit it, that episode in São Paulo had her still somewhat shaky. She knew she would be fine once she got a good night's sleep, and put the incident out of her mind. She still wasn't too keen on the idea of Trevor knowing where her room was located. She shrugged. She was probably being silly in trying to hide it from him anyway. It wasn't like he would force his way into her room or something.

“I know it's not necessary to walk you to your room, but I'll feel better if I do,” he said when she punched the button for the fifth floor. “And we've both agreed that it's been one hell of a day.”

Once they reached her room door, Corinthians turned to him. Their eyes met and held for a long moment before she broke contact by reaching down and taking her shopping bag out of his hands. “Thanks for carrying this. And thanks again for coming to my rescue today.”

Trevor took a step forward, sandwiching Corinthians between him and the door. He reached out and let his fingers stroke the silken skin of her cheek. “It was my pleasure,” he said huskily.

Corinthians's breath caught in response to the sensuality of Trevor's touch. She took a step back and found herself pressed firmly against the door. “I need to go inside,” she heard herself saying to him.

“Invite me in.”

Trevor's whispered plea was tempting. Too tempting, Corinthians thought. “I can't,” she said, taking a deep breath and pushing away from the support of the door frame. Since Trevor didn't move back an inch, her movement brought her body right smack up against his. The sudden body contact was electrifying, arousing, stirring. It released fire, quickly followed by desire. The fire between them was hot and intense. The desire, strong and unyielding.

Trevor slowly leaned down and touched his mouth to hers, once, then twice. He slipped his hand under her mass of dark hair and cupped the nape of her neck. His eyes locked with hers.

“You can invite me in,” he whispered, leaning closer to her lips. “And in a few seconds you'll wish you had.”

Before she could draw her next breath, Trevor captured her mouth with his. His tongue, flavored with the taste of the hot sauce he'd had at lunch, inflamed her in sizzling heat as it penetrated the moist softness of her mouth, making a thorough sweep of the insides and capturing her tongue with his.

Corinthians felt his mouth move slow, steady and intense over hers as their tongues mated. The want and need she felt was potent, powerful. She couldn't think. She couldn't get a grip. Her body had never ached for a man before…and never like this. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving just as good as she was getting, and admitting to herself that the real thing was a whole lot better than any dreams she'd had.

Trevor was drowning a slow, pleasurable death. A part of him had always known that kissing Corinthians would be like this, and that she would feel like heaven in his arms. And when he felt her move against him, it fueled his fire. He deepened the kiss, taking everything she was offering and still wanting more.

“Let's go inside,” he whispered hotly, against her lips.

Somewhere in the distance Corinthians heard the sound of a door opening and closing. It suddenly hit her that she and Trevor were standing in the middle of a hallway engaged in a kissing marathon. She quickly pushed him away just seconds before an elderly couple passed by them. But still they received strange looks from the lady and man. Corinthians couldn't help but blush in embarrassment.

When the couple had disappeared around the corner, Corinthians frowned up at Trevor. She'd experienced more embarrassing moments with him than at any other time in her life. “See what you made me do,” she hissed, straightening her blouse.

“And see what you made me do,” he countered with a teasing gleam in his eye. He straightened his own shirt and put it back inside his pants.

Corinthians sighed, feeling a sense of panic. Had she actually pulled his shirt from out of his pants? Oh, boy! She had to get away from Trevor and fast. She'd never carried on like this with a man.

“Look, I have to go. Good night, Trevor.”

“Are you sure you want to end the night like this?” he asked, reaching out and lifting a finger beneath her jaw and tipping her face up to his.

At the moment, she wasn't sure of anything as the soft brushing of his fingers against her chin nearly pushed her over the edge. “Yes, I'm sure. We'll only have regrets in the morning.”

Trevor's eyes darkened. “I won't.”

“But I will,” she responded truthfully.

He took a step closer to her. “No, you won't. You want me as much as I want you. Admit it.”

Corinthians stiffened and glared up at him. “I won't admit anything.”

Trevor smiled. “Yes, you will. I'm going to make sure of it.” He took a step back. “If later tonight you have a change of heart, I'm in room 530.”

It took a few seconds for Corinthians to remember that she was in room 528. She stared at him, hoping she had misunderstood him. “Room 530?”

His smile widened. “Yes. Remember I told you that I changed rooms earlier today. My room is now next to yours. And there's a connecting door. I'll keep my side unlocked, so feel free to enter my room anytime you like. That should be easy enough for you, since you're an old pro at doing that sort of thing.”

He took a step forward, again pinning her against the door. The look he gave her was serious. “But make no mistake about it, Corinthians, when you walk through that connecting door, it won't be for Dex. I refuse to be a substitute for any man. When I have you in my arms and make love to you, it will be my name you'll moan from your lips. No one else's.”

Corinthians's anger reached full height and she saw red with a vengeance. Without saying a word she turned, opened her door and closed it behind her, slamming it shut in Trevor Grant's face.




Chapter 5


Corinthians couldn't stop pacing the floor in her hotel room. Trevor Grant had her boiling. It only took a few moments to realize her reaction was just what he'd probably hoped for. The man enjoyed rattling her, and again he had succeeded.

And to think she had actually let him kiss her. She had let him put his hands on her and touch her. “I didn't even like it when he—”

The lie she was about to tell died in her throat. Although it galled her to admit it, the truth of the matter was that she had enjoyed kissing him. She ground her teeth, annoyed with herself.

Trevor Grant had been a thorn in her side since the time they had met. She wasn't supposed to enjoy doing anything with him, least of all kissing him. And she definitely wasn't supposed to have enjoyed his company in São Paulo. She had unintentionally let her guard down and look where it had gotten her.

She began pacing again. The nerve of him saying the two of them would be sleeping together like it was a foregone conclusion! The same cockiness that had convinced him he was one of the few good men the Marines had been looking for had evidently warped his brain. He would be the last man she slept with. The very idea made her…ache with desire and tremble with need. And to make matters worse, he thought she was still carrying a torch for Dex, which was hilarious.

With a hopeless groan, Corinthians dropped down on the love seat and covered her eyes with her arms. Little did he know, it wasn't thoughts of Dex that were confusing her emotions to the point of not making sense. It wasn't thoughts of Dex that filled her with sexual tension whenever Trevor was near. It wasn't thoughts of Dex that stirred a desire in her so strong that she felt the need to protect herself by keeping a constant feud going between them. And it certainly hadn't been thoughts of Dex that had made her behave the way she had less than an hour ago outside her hotel room door.

People who knew her would never have believed she'd acted that way. The Corinthians Avery they knew was temperate, rational, calm, polished and proper. But around Trevor, she was temperamental, explosive, irrational, volatile and passionate.

Passionate.

Corinthians felt her cheeks go warm at the thought. She took a deep, calming breath and tried to think through the situation in a logical way. But she couldn't. All she wanted to think about was Trevor in an illogical way. The taste of him, hot and spicy, was still on her tongue. The feel of his hands was still stamped on her body. And his scent, a male cologne that smelled husky and robust, still had parts of her body heated.

She momentarily closed her eyes remembering how easily her mouth had molded to his, how snugly her body had fit against his and…

Corinthians stiffened when she heard the sound of the shower going next door in Trevor's room. She nearly moaned at the thought that the walls were paper-thin, and there was a possibility he'd heard her pacing earlier. She felt flustered. How could one man make her come so unglued? How could one man make her so vividly aware of him?

She laid her head back against the seat, remembering the last time they'd had connecting rooms. It would be a night she would never forget because seeing him always made her remember. And to think she had actually passed out at his feet.

Her mind flashed back to that night…

“What happened?”

“You fainted.”

Corinthians looked up at the man towering over her. He was still dressed in that darn towel. It took only a few seconds to realize she'd been placed on his bed. She made a move to get up.

“Lie still.”

Ignoring his command, she sat up. This evening had become a nightmare, and it would be even more of one if what this man had told her about Dex was true. She suddenly noticed she wasn't wearing her robe and quickly jumped under the covers. “Where's my robe? Why did you take it off?”

“It's over there,” he said, indicating the back of the chair. “I removed it after picking you up off the floor. I was concerned and thought that perhaps you had some sort of identification in your pockets. Instead, all I found were these.”

Corinthians tinted when he held up the pack of condoms. She wished there was a way for her to crawl out of the bed and under it. This was getting more embarrassing by the minute. “Please hand me my robe. I want to leave.”

“Lady, you're not going anywhere until I get some answers. Now who are you and what are you doing in my room?”

Corinthians closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She reopened them. “I've told you. I thought this was Dex's room. I'd planned to spend an evening with him.”

“Sounds kind of cozy for you and a married man.”

Her eyes flashed fire. “I didn't know he was married. I talked to Dex a few days ago, and he didn't mention a thing about being married and having a child.”

“And the two of you made plans to spend an evening together?” Trevor asked with disbelief in his voice.

“No. Dex didn't know anything about this evening. It was going to be a surprise.”

“Aha! Clayton Madaris did put you up to this.”

Corinthians became so mad she forgot just how skimpy her outfit was and angrily got out of bed. The next thing she knew, she was facing him, fuming. Her scantily clad body nearly touched his. All she could think about was the outrage she felt. This man was deliberately making things difficult for her. He had to be the most despicable man she'd ever met.

“I don't know what you're talking about. Clayton Madaris didn't put me up to anything. I don't even know Dex's brother that well. I only met him once.”

“Then you have a lot of explaining to do. I want a name.”

Corinthians's anger reached boiling point. “Why should I give you my name when you haven't given me yours?”

The expression on Trevor's face indicated he was stunned by her statement. “I don't have to tell you who I am. This is my room, not yours. You're the one who shouldn't be here.”

Corinthians took a step forward, bringing her even closer to Trevor. The anger in her eyes grew. “Wrong, brother. My room is right through that door. We have connecting rooms and my company is paying for both. This room was strictly reserved for Dex Madaris and you aren't him. So you're the one out of place.”

“I'm Dex's replacement.”

“What?”

“I said I'm Dex's replacement. The name's Trevor Grant. I'm project foreman for Madaris Explorations. Dex couldn't make tomorrow's meeting, so I'm here in his place. All of this was cleared with your boss at Remington Oil.”

Corinthians's anger drained abruptly. Complete humiliation took its place. She tried to take a step back, but Trevor Grant wouldn't let her. He placed his hand around her waist. “Take your hands off me, Mr. Grant.”

Trevor gave her a crooked smile. “No can do. I won't run the risk of you fainting at my feet again. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, introductions.” Trevor's gaze held hers intently. “I'm still waiting on a name.”

“Then wait on.”

A mirthless smile curved Trevor's lips. “All right, so you want to play hardball. I think I'll just call the head honcho at Remington Oil and find out what is going on. Maybe he'll be able to explain why some half-dressed woman entered my hotel room wearing a robe full of condoms, claiming to be an employee of Remington Oil.”

Trevor's eyes darkened. “You can tell me who you are, or you can explain your actions to Mr. Remington himself. Got it?” he growled.

Corinthians glared up at him. “Yes, I've got it.” She then swallowed deeply. “May I have my robe back first, please?”

Trevor's brows narrowed. He gazed at her thoughtfully before saying, “No. I happen to like what you're wearing.” He continued to stare at her. “And don't pull some sort of stalling act. I'd like to have a name before midnight.”

Corinthians knew that from this moment on, she would despise this man forever. “I'm Corinthians Avery.”

Corinthians's thoughts returned to the present. Nothing had changed. She still despised him. And although she appreciated what he'd done for her earlier that day in McDonald's, she still despised him.

Who do you think you're fooling? her mind screamed. You didn't act like you despised him this afternoon in São Paulo. In fact, you'd been thinking maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

Corinthians let out a heavy sigh as her mind continued berating her. And you certainly didn't have any problems checking out his body in that shirt and those jeans. Surely you remember that shirt, the one that had fit so snugly across his broad chest and that had been tucked so neatly in his jeans. It was that same shirt you almost tore off him while he was kissing you in the hallway.

Corinthians inhaled deeply and stood. She was fighting a losing battle tonight with herself. What she needed was a long, relaxing bath. Then afterward, she would go over the reports for tomorrow's meeting.

She was determined to put Trevor Grant out of her mind for the rest of the night.



After taking a shower and toweling off, Trevor slipped a towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom.

Padding into the other room, he noticed the message light on his phone was blinking. He picked up the phone and called the front desk and found out the caller had been Dex. He smiled. He and the three Madaris brothers, Justin, Dex and Clayton, had been close friends since birth, growing up in the same neighborhood in Houston.

Trevor sat on the edge of the bed. After his decision to get out of the Marines, he had returned home at just about the same time Dex had returned from Australia where he'd been for two years working for Remington Oil. Dex wanted to go into business for himself and Trevor had agreed to be his foreman if he ever did. Within two years of that agreement, Madaris Explorations was formed. Now, nearly three years later, they were one of the most sought-after exploration companies in the country, especially after they had helped Remington Oil locate an oil basin near Eagle Pass.

And because Dex was a very generous employer, that venture had given every employee of Madaris Explorations a heftier bank account.

Trevor smiled. Because he'd had the good sense to invest in Dex's company, he'd made a lot of money. And thanks to the vast investment knowledge of Jake Madaris, Dex's wealthy uncle, over the past couple of years, he had watched his funds nearly triple. Some people would probably be surprised to discover just how much he was worth.

Money never fazed him. He lived comfortably, not flashy. And like Dex, he enjoyed the outdoors, and the physical labor of a job. Head foreman of Madaris Explorations was definitely his calling. And since the arrival of a new baby, Dex had passed more and more of the company's duties to him so that he could spend more time with Caitlin and their two daughters, Jordan and Ashley.

Trevor shook his head. Dex didn't have a clue how Corinthians felt about him. He considered her a good friend, nothing more. And Dex knew nothing about the hotel room incident. It was Trevor's and Corinthians's secret. Her fainting from shock that night had proven she honestly hadn't known Dex had gotten married. But now that she knew, Trevor couldn't help wondering if she would one day make an attempt to sabotage Dex's marriage. She hadn't made a move in that direction so far, but that didn't necessarily mean she wouldn't.

Before picking up the phone, he glanced at the connecting door. His side was unlocked just like he'd told Corinthians. It would be up to her to make the first move. But a part of him knew that she wouldn't.

He shook his head, grinning. The spitting sparks of fire that he'd seen in her eyes before she had slammed the door in his face had actually turned him on. He knew that whenever he did get her into his bed, the heat from her fire would torch him to flames. And like he had told her, he would not be a substitute for Dex. She would know with whom she shared the bed. Pleased with that thought, he picked up the phone to return Dex's call.

“Madaris here.”

“Hey, man, it's Trevor. What's up?”

“Not much. I just wanted to touch base with you before tomorrow's meeting. How are things going?”

Trevor glanced again at the unlocked connecting door. “As well as expected. I've gotten in some sightseeing time. I've taken in a soccer game. This is a pretty nice place.”

Dex laughed. “Don't get attached to it. You're needed here.”

“Don't worry about any attachments. I'm getting homesick already.”

“Have you seen Corinthians Avery yet? I understand she's Remington Oil's representative.”

“Yes, she's here, and yes, I've seen her.”

“And?”

“And nothing. The woman and I don't get along.”

“Yeah, so I've noticed, and I don't understand it.”

Trevor shook his head. Dex actually believed Corinthians was a prim, proper, well-bred woman and a real lady saint.

“There's nothing to understand,” he finally answered. “She and I don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. In fact, we're like oil and water.”

“That bad?”

“Worse. How're Caitlin and the girls?” he asked, deciding to change the subject.

“They're fine and send their love.”

He smiled. “Tell them ditto from me. And how are the newlyweds?”

“Clayton and Syneda are fine. They moved into their new law office a few days ago. Can you imagine the two of them sharing office space?”

Trevor shook his head. Clayton and Syneda disagreed on just about everything. “No, I can't imagine it. I'm still in shock at the thought of them being married.”

“You're not the only one. Take care, man.”

“You do the same, Dex.”




Chapter 6


Corinthians wondered how she managed to get through the entire day of the research summit without making a complete fool of herself, which she was sure she'd do after walking into the meeting room and seeing Trevor.

He'd been standing across the room talking to another man. Dressed in a dark blue suit, he looked suave, virile and sexy. He'd actually looked like he had walked directly off the cover of a magazine. And when he'd turned and looked at her, meeting her gaze with those deep, dark eyes and forcing her to remember the kiss they had shared the night before, she had almost come unglued right then and there.

She had tightened her fingers on the handle of her briefcase to hide her shaking hands, but it hadn't worked. In defiance, she lifted her chin and met his gaze for a long moment before finally conceding that for once, she could not maintain the disturbing contact and outstare him. Lowering her gaze, she had taken a seat at the table. Luckily for her, there had been an empty chair sandwiched between others that were already occupied, as well as those directly across from her. She'd sighed knowing that at least he wouldn't be sitting close by.

But that hadn't stopped him from getting to her. During the meeting, their glances would periodically meet, weakening her defenses, making her forget how much she didn't like him, and making it hard for her to concentrate on the proceedings.

After the meeting, the only thing she wanted was to leave as quickly as possible. She stood and began gathering up her things. Without looking up she knew the exact moment Trevor came to stand behind her. She could feel the heat of his body transfer to hers. Her pulse raced and her hands began shaking again. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself as she haphazardly tossed her notepad and pen into her briefcase and closed it with a click.

Her heart was pounding intensely as she turned around and quickly noticed everyone else had left and she and Trevor were the only people remaining in the room.

“Mr. Grant. How are you today?” she asked professionally, yet coolly, detesting the attraction she felt for him. Her body was getting warm all over, and even warmer in certain places.

Trevor drew his brows together at the formality in her tone; he didn't like it one bit. He raised his gaze to the ceiling, then lowered it to the floor before it came back to hers. He leaned forward, bracing both hands on the table and neatly pinning her in.

“A warning, Corinthians. The next time you call me Mr. Grant and not Trevor, I'm going to do something about it. Something similar to what I did last night, but this time I'll go a little further.”

Corinthians's cheeks became heated from just imagining just how far he would go. She then berated herself for even thinking about it. He couldn't go any further than she let him. “Don't count on it,” she snapped.

She glared up at him. His face was so close to hers that she could inhale the masculine scent of his aftershave, and see the even lines of his shaven chin. She was tempted to reach out and touch his skin to see if it felt as warm as it looked. She knew he had to be at least in his midthirties, but there were no wrinkle lines anywhere. His features, although ruggedly handsome, still had a smooth, unmarked appearance.

He smiled. “Oh, but I am counting on it. In fact, I'm doing more than just counting on it. I'm looking forward to it, especially after spending a night like I did last night. I didn't get much sleep for thinking about you and remembering how you felt in my arms.”

A shiver passed through Corinthians. He would be the last to know it, but she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep, either, remembering that very same thing. “Please don't,” she said in a soft plea.

Trevor had no intentions of granting her that request. Last night his dreams had been worse than ever. Before last night he could only imagine how she tasted. Now he knew. The real thing was even better than he'd imagined. And knowing she was bedded in the room next to his hadn't helped matters. Before morning he had taken two cold showers.

“I can't help it,” he said honestly, stubbornly and not too happily. He met her gaze directly. “I want you.”

Corinthians felt her insides jolt. Her warm body suddenly got hot, aroused. She became angered because once again he had echoed her own sentiments. And they were feelings she was not ready to face. “That's tough because you can't and you won't have me. Ever. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get by and you're blocking my way.”

He gave her an easy smile, one that made her knees go weak. She got an uneasy feeling he had taken her statement as a challenge. He straightened his stance. “Sorry,” he said moving aside. “I didn't mean to detain you.”

Corinthians grew more and more tense as she headed toward the door. In her haste to depart, she looked up just in time to avoid colliding with Armond Thetas as he entered the room. He looked to be in his midfifties and considered extremely handsome for his age. He was also known to be a very wealthy man. His oil company was one of the few located in South America.

“Ms. Avery, I'm glad I was able to see you before you left. The organization committee has planned a dinner party tonight in honor of all attendees. It will be held here in one of the banquet rooms. Then tomorrow, everyone is invited to my villa located in Buzios for an overnight stay. A chartered plane will transport you there and bring you back. I have made arrangements for a chartered bus to pick everyone up from the hotel tomorrow morning. You will be returned to the hotel in the afternoon of the following day.”

Corinthians smiled. She knew that Buzios was a very nice and expensive resort area that jutted in the Atlantic on the Cabo Frio Peninsula. The community contained million-dollar villas that were nestled along one of the seventeen idyllic beaches set among sandy coves. She had seen photographs of the upscale resort area that had numerous fine shops and excellent restaurants. As far as she was concerned Mr. Thetas's invitation for an overnight stay was a special treat, one she planned to take advantage of.

“Thanks, I'd love to attend the dinner party, and I'll look forward to going to Buzios in the morning.”

The older man's face beamed. “Wonderful. Just pack an overnight bag.” He then glanced over at Trevor. “What about you, Mr. Grant? Will you be joining us?”

Corinthians turned and looked at Trevor. A part of her hoped to heaven that he had other plans and would not be joining them. Evidently he read her thoughts because he gave her a smooth smile before saying, “I wouldn't miss it. Please count me in.”

Armond Thetas nodded. “I'll look forward to seeing you both tonight. Good day.”

After the man left, Corinthians turned back to Trevor and glared at him. Her anger flared when she saw the smile that lit his eyes. Clutching her briefcase more firmly in her hand, she headed for the door. She didn't miss the sound of his deep chuckle as the door swung shut behind her.



Rasheed Valdemon stepped from behind his desk and faced the man who had delivered the bad news to him. He raised an arched, angry brow. “What do you mean you still don't have Ms. Avery? I was counting on you, Santini. Now twice you and your people have disappointed me.”

Raul Santini came to his feet in defense of both himself and his men. “It's not as easy as you think to snatch an American woman off the streets of Brazil. These things take time. Do you have any idea of the repercussions we'll face if the North American government finds out about your plan and connects us to it?”

Rasheed looked long and hard at his old friend. During their teen years, the two of them had attended a private academy in France. Santini's father was an ambassador from Argentina. “You agreed to help me, Santini.”

“And I will. At least I will try, Monty,” Santini replied, calling Valdemon by the name his friends had given him at the academy. “But just like you have to be careful to protect your country, I must do the same for mine, my friend. I can't take any unnecessary chances.”

Rasheed sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face. “You have nothing to worry about. I told you that in the very beginning. American tourists disappear in foreign countries all the time, and the only people who make any noise about it are their families. They soon quiet down once they see their government won't do anything. Some tourists have been missing for years. Americans traveling abroad are on their own.”

“But this isn't just any American, Monty. Ms. Avery is the sister of a United States senator.”

“So what? As far as I am concerned, we'll be doing Joshua Avery a favor. He can't seem to handle her anyway. I'm sure that initially there may be some sort of an investigation, but in time, that, too, shall pass.”

He came and sat on the edge of his desk and faced his friend. “Remember that if I succeed in this, your country will be rewarded greatly. You know me well enough to know that I never forget my friends.”

Santini sighed, knowing that was true. Valdemon had secretly helped his country on a number of occasions. While at the academy several of them, all sons of important political figures from various nations, had formed a pact, a secret cartel. If there was anything one of them could do that would benefit the other's homeland, then they would do it. He had called on his friends in the cartel several times. However, this was the first time one of them had called on South America for help.

“We would have grabbed her yesterday had that man not shown up,” Santini finally said, breaking the silence.

Rasheed blinked at the unexpected news. He stood. “What man?”

“The American who arrived before my men could do anything. And according to them, the man seemed to be a close friend of Ms. Avery. Possibly even her lover. He handled her with too much familiarity to be anything less.”

Rasheed frowned. According to Joshua Avery, his sister was not romantically involved with anyone. “And your men couldn't handle one man?”

“Not this particular man. He's had extensive military training.”

Rasheed's frown deepened. “And how do your men know that?”

“Because he wears the ring.”

“What ring?”

“The Force Reconnaissance ring.”

Any military man, no matter what country he was from, had heard about the Force Recon group. They were an elite, highly skilled, specially trained group of men in the United States Marine Corps. A special breed of warriors, they were a close-knit group, almost like a brotherhood, who proudly wore their signet rings to prove it. To anyone else's observant eye it would look like just another signet ring. But to another military man, no matter what branch of service and no matter from what country, that ring had significant meaning.

“Are you sure?” Rasheed asked quietly, thoughtfully.

“I'm positive. The two men who reported back to me are former military men with the Argentine government. They would know.”

Rasheed's mood darkened. “This changes nothing. I won't be satisfied until I receive the news that Corinthians Avery is on her way to Mowaiti.”

“And the American protecting her?”

“He's your problem. You deal with him.”

Santini shook his head. “You're taking a big chance, Monty.”

“Am I?” he challenged. “Can you say you wouldn't do the same to save your country if given the chance, big or small?”

Santini thought about his love for his own country and knew there was nothing he wouldn't do for his people. “No.”

Rasheed smiled. He knew his friend understood. He walked over to him and touched him on the shoulder. “Once I have Ms. Avery and she finds oil, Mowaiti's troubles will be over. Out of friendship and honor, please continue to help me on this.”

Santini nodded. “I will.”



Trevor glanced around the crowded banquet room. Most of the people present had attended today's meeting and represented more than fifty major oil companies from around the world. They were people who were well-trained in scientific and technical skills in ways to extract oil reserves. The purpose of the all-day meeting had been to share as much of that knowledge as possible without leaking any company secrets.

He couldn't help but be proud of the way Corinthians had handled herself. He hadn't missed the look of admiration and respect in a number of the men's eyes. She had done something a lot of them had yet to do, and that was to use her vast knowledge and skill to locate an oil basin. As far as he was concerned, that said a lot for someone who was the only female head geologist in the group. When she had given her presentation, a lot of eyes had been on her. Some, he'd noticed, for reasons other than the information she was providing. Her physical beauty had entranced them. And he had to grudgingly admit, he hadn't liked it one bit. At first he had convinced himself that he hadn't cared that other men were looking at her with male interest. But later he'd been man enough to admit he'd lied to himself.

He had cared. More than he had wanted to.

He was reaching for another glass of wine off the tray of a passing waiter when the room suddenly became quiet. He turned to see what had caused the silence and felt his stomach tighten. Corinthians stood in the doorway and she looked absolutely gorgeous. Trevor took a quick glance around the room. Some of the men were openly drooling. His anger heightened. You would think they had never seen a beautiful American woman before. Even Armond Thetas appeared spellbound.

Trevor's gaze hardened as he looked at Corinthians again. A sudden knot formed in his throat. He himself had seen numerous beautiful American women, but never like this. She had really outdone herself tonight. He blinked once, then twice, to make sure he was seeing straight. She was dressed in—of all things—a virginal white, flowing evening gown. The gown's color was a stark contrast against the dark hue of her skin. But the combination of coloring made her look absolutely stunning, breathtaking.

Trevor glanced back around the room. A number of the men, although married, had not bothered to bring their wives with them on this trip. They were the main ones slobbering at the sight of Corinthians. The sight was totally disgusting.

His gaze moved back to the doorway. He could gather from Corinthians's expression she had also noted the fact that she was on display. She stood transfixed in place, scanning the group as if to make up her mind whether or not she really wanted to enter a den filled with salivating wolves.

Trevor noticed she kept glancing around the room as if looking for someone. He suddenly realized she was searching for him. He was surprised, given the on-going feud between them. He quickly reached the conclusion that to her way of thinking, he was just one more brazen, salivating wolf among many, but he was the one Corinthians assumed she could handle.

What the heck, he would let her assume whatever she liked, he thought, moving toward her. And he would let the people here tonight assume whatever they wanted to think, he thought further, picking up his pace. A few seconds later he was standing directly in front of Corinthians. He immediately saw the look of both relief and gratitude in her eyes.

For the space of several timeless moments, he didn't move. Then he leaned slightly and brushed his lips against hers in way of an affectionate greeting, effectively telling everyone present that Corinthians Avery was already taken.

Corinthians had seen the kiss coming, but hadn't had time to prepare herself for it. Although Trevor had barely brushed his lips against hers, her body had begun tingling all over. When he straightened his tall form, her gaze covered him from head to toe. If she thought Trevor had looked handsome in his dark suit at today's meeting, he looked doubly so in his white dinner jacket and dark slacks.

“For some reason, Trevor, I think you enjoy rescuing me,” she whispered.

He smiled as he reached out and took her hand in his. “I do.” He looked down at her. “You look great.”

“Thanks.”

The room was no longer silent. People were once again engaged in conversations. However, Trevor knew those same slavering wolves were discreetly watching them. “I may have disappointed a lot of men here tonight,” he whispered to Corinthians.

Corinthians looked up at him. “How so?”

“When you entered the room dressed in all white, because of the customs, traditions and beliefs in their countries regarding women wearing white, they saw you as a maiden virgin. I may have destroyed that image with my kiss, especially since it was in front of everyone at a professional gathering. Rumors will probably begin circulating that we're lovers.” He angled his head, studying her intently. “What do you have to say about that?”

She smiled up at him. “Nothing, since you and I know better. Tonight, we're merely playacting.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Before she could answer, he led her over to the table where dinner would be served.



Rasheed stood in front of the window in his Washington, D.C., apartment watching the rain. In Mowaiti, the rain was always welcomed. His people needed it for the growth of their crops. For the past few years, occasional drought had ravished the lands, making it harder for the people to earn a living, and making it harder still for them to feed their families. These things seemed to worry him more than they did his father, whose only concern was with gaining allies to keep the country safe. He had closed his eyes to the bleak circumstances surrounding his people. If it continued, Mowaiti would no longer exist as a country.

The soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. A few minutes later, Swalar, his valet, announced the arrival of Yasir Bedouins, a man who had been his father's adviser and close confidant for a number of years. Rasheed had once loved this man like a father because when his own parents hadn't had the time to listen to his youthful woes, Yasir had. But because of Yasir's close relationship with Sheikh Amin Valdemon, and his strong sense of dedication and loyalty to him, their once-close relationship was no more, especially now since he was no longer a child, but a man with his own views and a mind to express them. Rasheed regretted that, like his father, Yasir's ambition in life was not in making Mowaiti a stronger and powerful nation, but in keeping it safe and preserving its present state of existence.

“Yasir, to what do I owe this visit? Is something wrong with Father?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice when the older man entered his office. Even with their differences, he loved his father deeply.

“No, your father is fine. A little tired tonight more than usual, but he's fine.”

At that moment, efficient as ever, Swalar brought in coffee. And as Swalar went about pouring the brew in each of their cups, Rasheed studied Yasir, trying to decipher his mood and most importantly the reason for his visit. However, no words were spoken until after Swalar had finished his task and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“How long has he been serving you?” Yasir asked before taking a sip of the coffee.

Rasheed frowned. “Who? Swalar?”

At Yasir's nod, he answered, “Since I was thirteen years old. Why?”

“I think he's getting too old for the task. You need a younger, more able-bodied man to—”

“I don't want anyone else,” Rasheed interrupted. “I like Swalar just fine, and he still serves my needs extremely well.” He took a sip of his own coffee before adding, “He and I understand each other.”

Yasir lifted a brow. “In other words, he's still very efficient in keeping your secrets.”

Rasheed knew better than to play cat-and-mouse games with Yasir. The man was too sharp-witted for that. But tonight, just to humor him, he would make an exception. “I suppose he's as efficient at keeping my secrets as you are in keeping my father's. Should I try and guess why he's so tired tonight?”

Yasir met his gaze directly and unswervingly. “Your father has special needs.”

Rasheed smiled faintly. “Evidently. But isn't it enough that he has a harem full of women back home in our country. Does he have to create another one here in this country, as well?”

Yasir shrugged. “The American women are willing enough, and he's not hurting anyone.”

Rasheed snorted. “No one but himself. He turns sixty-one this year. How many women a night is he up to now? Last count it was five.”

Yasir shifted in his seat, not out of mortification or disgrace, Rasheed concluded, but merely to find a more comfortable position. “I don't keep tabs on such matters,” he replied gruffly.

“Maybe you should. He's not immune to AIDS you know. And I love my mother very much. I wouldn't want my father's private, sordid affairs to ever cause harm to her health.”

“I take care of such matters.”

Rasheed shook his head, not doubting that he did. A part of him couldn't help wondering just to what extent Yasir did so. “Are you going to tell me why you're here, Yasir?”

The older man sat back in his chair. “I've heard things…” Yasir said slowly. “Senator Joshua Avery has boasted to others of your interest in his sister. Your father and I saw the two of you together last month at that dinner party for Senator Nedwyn Lansing.”

Rasheed took another sip of coffee. “So, what of it? She's very beautiful. And I happen to like American women…like my father.”

Yasir's smile was slow. “If anything, you would not like them because of that very reason. So I've been curious as to why Ms. Avery has interested you. To appease my curiosity, I did some checking into her background. What I discovered is very interesting.”

“And just what have you discovered, Yasir?”

“Knowing your modern views on how you believe you can save Mowaiti, I think your interest in Corinthians Avery speaks for itself.” Yasir leaned forward. “But don't be a fool, Rasheed. Take this advice from someone who cares for you like a father. Whatever you're into, get out of it. The United States is one of our biggest allies. We don't need you to bring bad blood between our countries because of your foolish, boyish dreams. Are you determined to destroy the good, solid relationship we have with this country that your father has worked years to cultivate?”

Rasheed leaped out of his chair. “Is it foolish and boyish to want better for our people?”

“No, but you have no proof there is oil anywhere in Mowaiti. If there were, don't you think it would have been discovered by now?”

“Not necessarily. Look at Libya, and how—”

“I don't want to hear about Libya. When are you going to realize we are a totally different country?”

Rasheed narrowed his eyes. “And when are you and Father going to get your heads out of the sand and out from underneath the American women's skirts, and take note of what's really happening in Mowaiti? You're so busy keeping Father's secrets and he's so busy creating more secrets for you to keep that neither of you can see what's happening. Neither you nor him have been to Mowaiti in months.”

Yasir stood. “I refuse to continue this conversation with you, Rasheed. I expect you to take heed of my advice. If I have to, I will alert your father of what you're about. I take my job as his confidant and adviser seriously.”

Without saying another word, Yasir Bedouins turned and walked out of the room.



Corinthians finished packing the overnight bag she was taking to Buzios, and placed it next to her bed. According to Armond Thetas, the chartered bus that would take them to the airport would arrive at dawn. She had decided to pack tonight instead of rushing about doing the chore in the morning.

She had left the dinner party more than an hour ago. Trevor had remained close by her side the entire evening, and she had appreciated that. At the end of dinner, he had escorted her back to her room. She'd been mildly surprised when all he'd done was brush a kiss on her cheek before saying good-night. She refused to admit she was disappointed he hadn't taken her into his arms and kissed her senseless like he'd done the night before.

Corinthians was so absorbed in her thoughts that the shrill ringing of the telephone startled her. She reached out and grabbed it before it could ring a second time. “Hello.”

“Corinth? What's going on, girl?”

Corinthians smiled. Her best friend, Brenna, was just the person she needed to talk to. The two of them had been friends since childhood and had no secrets.

“Brenna, when did you get back?” For years Brenna had been a Fashion Fair model, but had given it up a couple of years ago after complaining of being burned out and getting up in age. Photographers were looking for younger women these days, Brenna claimed, and not women who were hitting thirty. However, she had jumped at the opportunity when Ebony contacted her six months ago to coordinate the fashion shows for them. Although it meant constant travel, it had been an opportunity for her to remain a part of an industry she loved.

“I got back yesterday, but let's cut the small talk. Tell me, how's Trevor Grant?”

Corinthians laughed as she stretched out on the bed. “Trevor Grant is doing fine, I guess.”

“Did you see him today?”

“Yes, we attended the same dinner party tonight.”

“Umm. And you're alone now?”

Corinthians raised a brow. “Yes, why?”

“Then I bet the brother isn't doing fine. I bet he's taking a cold shower about now.”

Corinthians smiled at Brenna's assumption. She could actually hear the shower running in Trevor's room. But that didn't necessarily mean the shower he was taking was a cold one. “All right, Brenna, let up, girl. Pull back.”

“If you insist. But if I were you I wouldn't let him get away, Corinth. Good men are hard to find.”

Corinthians chuckled when she remembered something Trevor had said yesterday. “I bet I know where a few of them are.”

“Really? Where?” Brenna asked, more than mildly curious.

Corinthians scooted over in the bed to the side closest to the wall. Trevor's shower, she noted, was going full blast. “In the Marines.”



Nothing like a cold shower to cool a man off, Trevor thought as he dried off his wet body before placing a towel around his waist. There was only so much temptation that a sane man could take. And tonight he had nearly reached his limit. His lips twisted into a smile as he made his way out of the bathroom. Tonight Corinthians had been all grace, finesse and elegance. It hadn't been the flowing gown that covered, yet tantalized every curve of her body. Nor had it been the way she'd had her hair fixed atop her head in a bevy of curls that crowned her features with innocence. To his way of thinking, it had been the way she had carried herself, so vibrantly alive yet the carefully controlled, dignified and proper lady.

The envious looks he'd receive from numerous men had stunned him with the knowledge of just what he hadn't realized until tonight. There were two sides to Corinthians Avery. One was the wanton seductress, who had appeared half-naked in his hotel room that night, and the other was the prim-and-proper Ms. Avery. He couldn't help but wonder which Corinthians Avery he liked best. He then decided he liked them both. And deep down he knew he wanted them both.

Trevor bit back a groan when thoughts of having her sent blood rushing through his veins. When he had walked her to her room, it had taken all the control he could conjure from years of military training not to take her into his arms for a repeat of last night. He couldn't run the risk of tasting then devouring the sweetness of her mouth again, without being tempted to taste the rest of her.

He leaned back against the wall to get his bearings. This kind of sensual attraction was a first for him. Never had he been so captivated with a woman. And if that didn't beat all, this magnetic pull had lasted nearly two years. Even knowing that she was in love with another man—a man who happened to be his best friend—hadn't stopped him from desiring her, hungering after her. And that realization cut him to the core.

Reaching down, he picked up his overnight bag and began filling it with the things he needed for his overnight stay in Buzios. The only reason he had accepted Thetas's invitation was because the look Corinthians had given him had dared him to. He shrugged. He was a sucker for a dare, especially one from Corinthians.




Chapter 7


Someone was in her room.

That thought suddenly registered in Corinthians's groggy mind and she came awake instantly. She sat up in bed and frantically glanced around the room. It was dark and she couldn't see a thing. Fear knotted inside of her. She pushed aside the covers and was about to ease out of bed when someone pulled her up from behind. A large, rough hand covered her mouth, effectively silencing the scream she was about to make.

“Don't make a sound. We have to get out of here. Now.”

Trevor's deep voice cut through Corinthians's near hysteria. Her body became calm when she realized who the intruder was, and she automatically relaxed against his hard frame. She then became angry, almost livid. Had he lost his mind? The nerve of him entering her room in the middle of the night and frightening her. And how on earth did he get in? She squirmed against him, and when he twisted her around to face him, she glared up at him, barely making out his features in the darkness, but ready to give him a piece of her mind. She would have done so if his hand hadn't still been firmly clamped over her mouth. But in her furious state, she was not about to let that stop her. She tried talking against the palm of his hand and couldn't. She groaned her frustration, getting even madder.

Trevor pulled her over to an area where a small pool of light flowed in through the window blinds. “Shh. Listen to me, Corinthians. Listen like your very life depends on what I'm about to tell you because it just might. A group of terrorists have taken over this hotel.”

He saw her dark eyes widen and blink as she comprehended what he had said. He felt the chill that swept through her body and momentarily froze her in place. “I couldn't sleep and decided to go downstairs. I took the stairs instead of the elevators.” Trevor decided not to mention the reason he had taken the stairs was because he'd felt the need to work off some frustrated sexual energy. Being around her at the dinner party had made his desire for her stronger than ever.

“When I got to the bottom floor I saw them. They're holding some of the hotel personnel at gunpoint, as well as some of the people in our group who decided to stay late at the dinner party. I ducked back in the stairway before they saw me. It's my guess that eventually they'll make a clean sweep of this hotel and take anyone they can as hostages, especially Americans. I don't plan on being among that number, and I don't think you want that, either. So we're getting out of here. Understand?”

Corinthians nodded her head. She could tell from the look on Trevor's face and from the troubled sound of his voice that he was dead serious about the hotel being under terrorist attack. She took in a deep gulp of air when he removed his hand from her mouth.

“Come on, we have to move quickly before they reach our floor,” he whispered close to her ear. “I've jammed the elevator and blocked the stairway door but that will only buy us—”

“Why don't we just call the police?” Corinthians cut in. Following his lead, she kept her voice low.

“I tried, but the phones are dead. And because this hotel is located on an isolated stretch of beach the cell phones haven't worked since day one, and there's no place we can go to for help that's close by.”

He sighed deeply. “We're wasting time. You need to change out of what you have on and put on something else. Wear something dark, and put on a pair of comfortable shoes. And you're going to have to get the items out of your closet without turning on the lights.”

It suddenly hit Corinthians that she was dressed in her sleepwear. But at the moment, being modest was the last thing on her mind as she quickly moved to her closet. She couldn't worry about Trevor seeing her dressed in her short, silk nightshirt. There wasn't much light in the room for him to see too much and besides, he'd once seen her in a whole lot less.

No woman's body should be that perfectly shaped, Trevor thought as he watched Corinthians rush to the closet and begin pulling items off hangers. And no woman's body should feel that soft. He couldn't help but remember how she'd felt against him a few moments ago when he had pulled her out of bed. His hand hadn't been what he'd wanted to use to cover her mouth. The deep desire he always felt around her had tempted him to cover her mouth with his own, and again taste her passion and her fire. What he had wanted to do with his hand was to run it over her body, to feel her softness while he continued to kiss her, and elicit from her that sweet, deep, throaty moan he'd gotten out of her last night while kissing her.

He mentally chastised himself for letting his mind concentrate on seducing her and not on the important matter at hand, which was getting them to safety. “While you're getting dressed I'm going to throw a few things we might need in a bag,” he whispered, glancing around the room. He needed to look at anything in the room but at her right now, especially her legs and thighs that were exposed from underneath her short nightshirt.

“I packed that bag earlier tonight to take with me to Buzios,” Corinthians said, pointing to her overnight bag next to the bed. “Everything I might need is in it. We'll be able to return to the hotel in a couple of hours, won't we?”

Trevor wished he could answer yes to that question, but he wasn't sure. “I hope so,” he said leaning down and picking up her bag. He frowned. It was heavy, way too heavy.

“Where are we going?” Corinthians asked, tossing the items that she had taken out of the closet on the bed.

“In the jungle. We'll hang out there until the authorities get things back under control here.”

She nodded. “How did you get into my room?” she asked, after reaching down for her shoes and socks.

“I picked the lock,” he answered absently. He couldn't keep his gaze off her legs.

When Corinthians dashed off into the bathroom to change, Trevor sucked in a deep breath to regain control of his senses before quickly walking through the connecting door and into his room to get his own overnight bag. They would have to combine their stuff into one bag, preferably his since it appeared to be the sturdier of the two.

Going back into Corinthians's room, he opened her night bag and began going through it, only taking out the things he thought were necessary and packing them in his. His hand trembled when it came in contact with silky and lacy material. He took a deep breath when he pulled out a pair of lacy underwear and a matching bra. He put them back inside her bag.

Corinthians came out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of dark-colored jeans and a black top. She had on a pair of sneakers.

“We can only take one bag, so I'm putting our stuff together and using mine,” Trevor said, turning to her.

She nodded. “Did you get everything I need?” she asked as she watched him zip up the bag.

Trevor thought about her underthings he hadn't placed in his bag. “I took out everything I'm letting you take. Too much stuff will slow us down and we don't need that.”

He tossed her wallet to her. “Keep this on you at all times. You may need your passport.”

Corinthians nodded, stuffing her wallet into her back pocket. “How are we going to get out of here?”

“Just follow me and do what I tell you to.”

Corinthians took offense with the bossiness of his tone of voice. She glared up at him. “I'll do what you tell me to do as long as it makes sense.”



“I won't do it, Trevor. It doesn't make sense. There has to be another way,” Corinthians said moments later as they stood on the balcony of her hotel room.

Trevor turned and met her gaze. “What do you suggest that we do? Use the elevators or the stairs to get down?” His voice was low and agitated. He was beginning to lose his patience. “This is the only way we can make it down without being seen. It's not as bad as it looks.”

Corinthians wasn't convinced of that, as she looked down over the balcony's railing to the ground that was five stories below. She then looked at the fire escape ladder that over the years had grown covered with trails of burgeoned vines. Evidently periodic safety inspections weren't required here. “I disagree. I think it's as bad as it looks.”

Trevor frowned. “Then suit yourself. You can stay here if that's what you're inclined to do. But I'm going down using that ladder. I suggest you do the same and follow. Believe me, the last thing you'd want is to stay behind. Female hostages, especially the ones who're attractive as you are, don't fare well with terrorists. I'm sure you know what I mean.”

Corinthians shuddered. She knew exactly what he meant. Last year the newspapers had reported how an American businessman and his wife, who had been vacationing in Central America, had been abducted by a group of revolutionaries. The man had been killed and his wife had been gang raped before she'd been left for dead.

She took a deep breath. Revolutionaries or terrorists, they were all the same in her book. Both groups had causes and beliefs they were willing to die for; causes and beliefs they would do just about anything to draw worldwide attention to.

Corinthians glanced again at the ladder. It didn't look like it could hold one person's weight, let alone two. “I might fall,” she finally said softly in a shaky voice.

Trevor saw the fear in her eyes, and he heard it in her voice. A part of him wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms and soothe her, reassure her. “You won't fall. I won't let you. Trust me.”

Their eyes met for a moment, then Corinthians nodded. She would trust him. For some reason she believed he would get them to safety.

“Come on, Corinthians. We need to get a move on, and the fire escape is our only way. I'll go first and you follow. With me ahead of you, I'll be between you and the ground.”

Corinthians nodded and watched Trevor. With the overnight bag in one hand, he hefted his body over the side railing. After getting the proper footing, he reached out and grasped the vine-covered ladder with his free hand.

He glanced back at her. “Just follow me down.”

Trevor had gone down the rungs a few feet before looking up at Corinthians. She hadn't moved from her spot on the balcony. “Come on, baby, you can do it.”




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