Fire and Desire (Arabesque) (20 page)

“I wish.” Although Ashton returned Trevor’s smile, his eyes couldn’t hide a host of painful childhood memories. And Trevor understood why. Ashton had once told him how hard it had been as a child to be torn between his Indian and his African American heritages. His summers had been spent with his father at the Cherokee nation in Oklahoma, and his school year had been spent with his mother’s parents in Washington, D.C. His grandparents had spent those nine months of the year trying to de-Indianize him. They had never come to accept their daughter’s marriage to an Indian, even though it had lasted less than a year thanks to their interference.

“What’s up?” Trevor asked, moving aside to let Ashton enter the room.

“Figured you wouldn’t be doing much sleeping tonight, so I thought we could use this time to talk. You mentioned something about having a bad feeling about this hostage thing. Would you care to enlighten me?” he asked, dropping down in the recliner in the room.

“I may as well,” Trevor said, taking a seat in the chair at the desk. “First of all, that terrorist who managed to track me and Corinthians down in the jungles spoke Portuguese. I was surprised by that, since the two men who tried to abduct Corinthians in São Paulo spoke Spanish. And I’ve—”

“Whoa, wait a minute. Back up. Are you saying two men tried abducting Miss Avery in São Paulo? Before the terrorists’ attack?”

“Yeah, the day before. She was in a McDonald’s at the time, and had gone to use the ladies’ room. I walked into the place just in time. Afterward, I thought it was just a case of an American tourist being set upon by a bunch of thieves, but now I’m sure that wasn’t the case.”

Ashton lifted a dark brow. “Why do you think that?”

“Because we ran into those same two men the night we escaped into the jungle. We hid from them in the dense underbrush. And although they spoke in rapid, clipped Spanish, I was able to keep up with most of their conversation. One of them told the other that someone named Santini would not like having to tell someone named Monty that they had literally screwed up again, and that someone else had gotten to the woman before they did. At the time, I thought they were part of the terrorist group, but now I’m not all that certain about that. I’ve never known any Spanish-speaking terrorist and any Portuguese-speaking terrorist to join forces on anything. In fact, you know as well as I that they usually oppose each other.”

Ashton nodded. “And you’re sure one of those Spanish-speaking men mentioned the name Monty?”

“I’m positive.”

Ashton stood and began pacing the room. A prickle of unease flowed through Trevor’s body as he watched him. “Is there something you need to tell me, Ashton?”

Ashton stopped his pacing and looked over at Trevor. “What you’ve just told me has raised my suspicion of who may have been behind the taking of those American hostages.”

A deep frown covered Trevor’s face. “Who?”

Ashton took a long, weary breath. “The CIA has been watching someone for the past six months. And although they haven’t been able to come up with strong, concrete evidence, it’s believed that this very wealthy individual is behind the recent increase in illegal contraband coming into South America. And you’re right about the Spanish-speaking South Americans and the Portuguese-speaking South American terrorists not being able to work together; however, enough money can make anyone do just about anything.”

“Who is this person?” Trevor asked again. He wanted a name. He wanted to know the identity of the person who had placed his and Corinthians’s life in danger for four days.

“I want a name, Ashton,” Trevor said upon sensing Ashton’s reluctance to give him one. “And don’t try pulling that military security stuff on me. Don’t forget I’ve been there and I’ve done that. After all I’ve been through, I think I deserve a name.”

Ashton stared long and hard at the man whom he considered a very close friend; a man who had once risked his life saving his. “The man is Armond Thetas. Known as Monty to his friends.”

Trevor immediately went into shock. “Armond Thetas?” Nothing in his voice even hinted at the deep rage he felt, just the shock. If the CIA had Thetas under suspicion, there was a good reason for it. “And you think he’s behind the attack?”

“Yes, we have our suspicions although we can’t prove it right now.”

“What makes you think he’s involved?”

“The CIA had an inside informer who worked inside Thetas’ villa. He kept the CIA pretty much informed as to Thetas’ activities, which seemed to be operating more than an oil company in South America. Large amounts of money were withdrawn from his bank account just weeks before a huge weapon shipment found its way to South America undetected. The last time the CIA heard from their informer, he warned them about something big going down, but didn’t give any specifics. We think the kidnapping of the American hostages could be it, but we aren’t absolutely sure.”

Trevor nodded. “What about the informer? Wasn’t he able to—”

“No,” Ashton cut in. “He had to be pulled out of there immediately. Somehow Thetas found out someone from the inside was a traitor. Plans were in motion to find out who he was and to have him eliminated.” He stuck his hands into his pockets and met Trevor’s gaze. “You may as well know that Drake was the informer.”

Trevor flinched and sucked in his breath. Drake Warren was a good friend of theirs and a former member of the Force Recon where they had fondly tagged him “Sir Drake.” Now he worked for the CIA doing various things for the American government. They were things Trevor didn’t even want to think about and knew better than to ask about. No doubt Drake was taking chances he shouldn’t be taking. Their friend lived dangerously on the edge. As far as Drake was concerned, his life had pretty much ended when the woman he loved was murdered by a group of revolutionaries out to overthrow the Haitian government nearly three years ago.

“Where’s Drake now?”

“Who knows, man. The CIA forced him to take time off to rest, but you know Sir Drake. The word
rest
is not in his vocabulary.”

Trevor nodded. He then returned his thoughts to Armond Thetas. The man had been in Rio de Janeiro with them, attending the summit. He had also been the one to personally invite him and Corinthians to the dinner party that night at the hotel and then to his villa for rest and relaxation in Buzios the next day. As Trevor thought further, he remembered that Thetas had left the dinner party early claiming an emergency had come up. How convenient. A dark frown covered Trevor’s face when he remembered how Thetas had looked at Corinthians that night when she had first entered the ballroom for dinner. Like the other men present, he had been entranced by her beauty.

Trevor’s fingers tightened around the pen he had picked up off the desk. If Corinthians had been taken as a hostage, and with her being the only female geologist in the group—and a desirable one at that—he had a gut feeling she would not have returned unharmed. He thanked God that he had gotten her out in time.

“So what’s the CIA’s next move regarding Thetas?” Trevor asked.

“Right now, they’re being cautious. The information Drake provided proves he’s into something illegal, but we have nothing to tie him to the hostages yet. As you know, Thetas left the hotel early that night, but our man who followed him said he went straight home and stayed there all night after receiving word that his young son of five had taken ill.”

“He has a son that young?”

“Yes, from one of his mistresses. I understand he had several. He loves women just as much as he loves money.”

Trevor didn’t doubt that. “But there’s one thing that still puzzles me, Ashton. Why did someone try to abduct Corinthians the day before the terrorist attack? Had they been successful in their attempt, I doubt that same group would have been stupid enough to turn around the next night and kidnap other hostages. It just doesn’t make sense. And there’s something else you should know.”

“What?”

“Corinthians told me she got detained for hours at the airport by Customs when she entered Brazil. Even after all you’ve told me, I still have a bad feeling about this one. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think we were dealing with two different groups here.”

Ashton nodded, following Trevor’s line of thinking. “As soon as I get back to the embassy, I’m going to check further into some things, like that incident in McDonald’s and what happened at Customs. At least you’ve provided us with another name. I’m curious as to who Santini is. I’ll pass his name on to the CIA for them to check out. I’ll keep you informed if I hear anything.” He smiled. “I have some leave time coming up. I just might come to Texas and pay you a visit in a few weeks.”

Trevor shook his head. He knew if Ashton had plans to come to Texas, the main reason was not to see him, but to see Netherland Brooms.

Netherland, called Nettie by her friends, was the owner of Sisters, a popular restaurant and hangout in Houston. Ashton and Netherland had met a few years ago when Ashton had paid him a visit. He had taken him to dinner at Sisters and had introduced them.

“Yeah, you do that,” Trevor said, smiling. “And before you ask, the answer is yes, Nettie is still single. But I thought she made it clear to you that she doesn’t date military men.”

A slow grin appeared under Ashton’s eyes. “Then I guess I’ll have to work at changing her mind about that, won’t I?”

Trevor shrugged. Even with Ashton’s art of persuasion, he had a feeling Nettie would not budge. But he would let Ashton find that out for himself.

“Oh, by the way, I think you might want this back,” Ashton said.

Trevor took the ring Ashton handed him and returned it to his finger. “Thanks, for everything.”

“Don’t mention it. You would have done the same for me. In fact, you already have.” Ashton looked down at his watch. “It’s almost morning. We may as well go someplace and grab breakfast. I’m returning to South America in a few hours. When will your flight leave for Texas?”

“Not soon enough,” was Trevor’s reply as he grabbed his jacket off the table and followed Ashton out of the door.

Deep in the recesses of her sleep-induced mind, Corinthians faintly heard her mother calling her name. She frowned. Why was her mother out here in the jungle with her and Trevor? The last thing she wanted was her mother to find her naked in Trevor’s arms, and especially not before he made love to her again. “No, go away. I want Trevor,” she mumbled still deep in sleep.

“Corinthians, sweetheart, I’m here, and I’m going to take care of you.”

“Trevor,” was Corinthians’s reply. She said the name in such a way that Maudlin Avery could not help but lift a brow.

“Corinthians, wake up, honey. You’re having a dream,” she whispered softly in her daughter’s ear. The last time Corinthians had slept this hard had been after working herself into a state of total exhaustion on that special project at Remington Oil a little more than a year ago. She had come home for two weeks to get some much-needed rest, sleeping twelve hours straight her first day home.

Maudlin Avery had always been concerned Corinthians was working too hard and that she didn’t have much of a social life. She and her husband were yet to meet any man she dated unless it was someone Joshua managed to fix her up with. Heaven help them if she ever became seriously involved with anyone Joshua considered suitable. Suitable to Joshua meant just the opposite to them. She wanted her daughter to be the object of some man’s deep affection and undying love, and not a way for him to advance his career or social status.

Maudlin Avery brought her thoughts back to the present when her daughter let out a deep, guttural moan. She frowned, wondering just what kind of dream Corinthians was having. “Corinthians, wake up,” she said, shaking her awake.

Corinthians snatched her eyes open although they were still groggy from sleep. She tried focusing her gaze on the figure of the person leaning over her. “Mom!” she squeaked when her focus became clearer. She suddenly sat up in bed and glanced around the room.

“Mom? What are you doing here? Where am I?” she asked as she tried to clear sleep from her brain.

“You’re at a hotel in Key West, Florida. The military brought you here after you were rescued from the jungles of South America.”

“But how? When? I don’t remember anything,” Corinthians said flustered. “The last thing I remember is getting on that plane and going to sleep in Trevor’s—”

She suddenly stopped talking midsentence and quickly glanced around the room. Had Corinthians taken the time to notice, she would have felt, like her mother saw, the look of sheer panic in her face. And she would have heard, like her mother did, the frantic tone of her voice when she asked, “Where’s Trevor?”

“M
r. Grant isn’t here, Corinthians.”

“What do you mean he isn’t here?”

To Maudlin Avery’s surprise, her fiercely independent daughter seemed quite upset to discover that Trevor Grant was not there. Corinthians had never been one to get worked up over a man. Her daughter’s new attitude stunned her. Four days in the jungle could not have changed her that much, could it? But the look on Corinthians’s face clearly showed she was not a happy camper.

Evidently Nathan had not told her everything she needed to know about Trevor Grant. The only thing he had told her was that the man had actually made Joshua’s knees shake. She inwardly smiled at that. Any man who could put Joshua in his place was worth checking out. Now it seemed she needed to check Mr. Grant out for other reasons, as well.

“Mom, where is he?”

Corinthians’s question interrupted Maudlin Avery’s thoughts. “I assume you’re still asking about Trevor Grant?”

Corinthians looked puzzled. “Of course. Who else would I be asking about?”

Maudlin Avery’s voice contained a faint hint of humor when she said, “I was just wondering since you’ve never shown much interest in a man before, and definitely not with so much distress in your voice.”

“I’m not distressed,” Corinthians replied in a voice that clearly showed otherwise. “I just want to know where he is. I need to talk to him about something.”

Maudlin looked at Corinthians curiously. There was something about her that was different, although at the moment, she couldn’t put a finger on exactly just what that difference was.

Corinthians was not paying any attention to her mother’s close study of her. The only thing she could think about was the fact that Trevor had gone. He had left her without even saying goodbye. Had he been that anxious to get rid of her? Had he regretted making love to her? Her insides churned at the thought. She knew he didn’t love her, but she had hoped what they had shared meant something to him like it had to her. Evidently it had not.

Tears she couldn’t control misted her eyes. The next thing she knew, she was being pulled into her mother’s arms. “It’s all right, baby. Shhh, don’t cry. Your father and I are taking you home with us to Louisiana. We’ll take care of you and everything will be all right.”

Corinthians pulled herself out of her mother’s embrace and gazed up at her with tear-filled eyes. “No, nothing’s going to be all right. Not ever again. He’s gone and I didn’t tell him. I should have told him anyway.”

Maudlin reached up and soothingly stroked the single braid that hung over her daughter’s shoulder. “You should have told him what?”

Corinthians opened her mouth to say she should have told Trevor that she loved him, but didn’t say the words. She could not confess her love for him to anyone before first letting him know. When she thought about all the things he had done for her in South America, she couldn’t help but be filled with love for him. He had placed her life before his own, he had fed her, kept her safe and warm and had made love to her in a way every woman should be made love to at least once in her life, with all-consuming fire and passion.

“Corinthians?”

Her mother’s soft, gentle voice pulled at her and like a small child she went back into her mother’s arms, seeking comfort. She sighed and relaxed in the warmth her mother offered.

“You’re thinking that you should have told him how much you care for him, aren’t you?”

A shudder of surprise touched Corinthians at her mother’s question. But then it really shouldn’t have. She had discovered a long time ago that God had given mothers special powers to read their children like a book at times, and Maudlin Avery was no exception. Her mother had read her feelings for Trevor loud and clear.

“Yes. I’m thinking that I should have told him.”

For a long while her mother just held her and said nothing. When she did speak again moments later she said, “I’m glad you’ve finally come to terms with what you thought you felt for Dex Madaris.”

Corinthians pulled back from her mother’s arms and gazed up into her face curiously. “How did you know I thought I loved Dex?”

“How could we not know? When you first began working at Remington Oil, he was all you ever talked about. Your father and I knew you thought you were in love with him, but I always knew that you weren’t.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because, you were too cool and calm with your feelings, which to me indicated they were more like a crush and hero worship than anything. You’ve always been too tied down to your job to ever become involved with a man. Convincing yourself that you loved Dex Madaris was convenient for you. He was safe, and he wasn’t any competition for what you were really committed to, which was to move up in your career at Remington Oil. And Dex Madaris made it easy for you to convince yourself that you loved him by being all the things you thought a decent man should be. But you were too easy in accepting the fact that he never returned your affection. I think if he had made one move that indicated he was the least bit interested in you, too, you would have panicked and lost interest. He would no longer have been safe. You were not ready to truly love a man…until now.”

Corinthians considered her mother’s words for a moment and knew they were true. She had often wondered why she had never pushed her and Dex’s relationship to a higher level than friendship. She had always been satisfied with it until she had heard he had returned from Australia, and they would be working together on a project for Remington Oil. She had made the decision then to let him know her true feelings. Why?

“But I did try to push for more, Mom, around two years ago after he returned from Australia.”

“And?”

Corinthians did not intend to tell her mother the full story of how she had made a fool of herself in that hotel room. “And I made a mistake by trying. That’s when I found out he had gotten a wife and child since I’d seen him last.”

“And what did you do after you found that out? Did you lock yourself in your condo and cry for days? Did you lose your appetite and stop eating? Were your insides ripped apart by the news? Did you rant and rave over losing the man you loved? I doubt you did any of those things. To be quite honest with you, I doubt very seriously you lost any sleep over it.”

Corinthians sighed. Oh, she had lost plenty of sleep that night all right. But her loss of sleep had not been because of Dex. Trevor had consumed her every waking thought and had managed to invade her sleep, as well. That night when she had met him, he had stirred emotions within her so intense and fiery that for the longest time she had convinced herself it was only anger. But now she knew that wasn’t the case.

She looked up at her mom. “But I want to do all those things now, Mom, because of Trevor. I want to lock myself in my condo and have a good cry. I don’t care if I never eat again. I want to rant and rave, and I feel my insides have been ripped apart knowing he doesn’t care.”

“Are you sure he doesn’t care?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know that? Did he say he didn’t care?”

“No, but he didn’t have to. There’s a lot about Trevor and my relationship you don’t know.”

Maudlin Avery nodded, knowing that was an understatement. “What I do know is that thanks to him, we have you back home with us.” She hugged her daughter again. “And we’re glad you’re back.”

She then stood. “Your father and brother will want to see you now that you’re awake.” She crossed the room to open the door. Before doing so, she turned back around to her daughter.

“Oh, and Corinthians, that must have been some dream you were having before I had to wake you.” Maudlin Avery inwardly smiled when a dark flush came over her daughter’s cheeks.

Rasheed sat across the breakfast table, studying his father. Wearing the customary clothing of their native land, the burnoose and kaffiyeh appeared a startling white against the sheikh’s brown skin.

Sheikh Amin Valdemon had always been considered by many to be a good-looking man. He had a smooth, matured face, a full mouth and an aquiline nose. His eye coloring, dark as a starless night, made his gaze sharp and assessing. And his straight, black hair was flecked with a small amount of gray at the temples. At the age of sixty, he had always possessed a vitality that seemed endless. But lately, Rasheed had noticed his father always appeared tired and subdued. He looked nothing like the man who was one of the most influential sheikhs in the world. His influence had nothing to do with him being the ruler of a productive country because Mowaiti was not one. His influence and respect came as a result of being a successful, peaceful negotiator. More than once he had kept many oil-producing Arab nations from warring with one another. He had the ability to head off a confrontation between two countries better than anyone. For that reason, OPEC had chosen him as negotiator in their dealings with the United States. For the past three months, he had spent more time in this country than he had in his own. And that was what concerned Rasheed the most. His father was losing touch with the people who depended on him for their survival. But today, Rasheed had another concern as he looked at his father’s plate. He had barely touched his meal.

“Father, are you all right?”

Rasheed saw the surprise dart through the sheikh’s eyes before waving off the question with a hand that trembled slightly. “Of course I’m fine, Rasheed. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Since he had asked, Rasheed decided to tell him the obvious. He leaned forward when he said, “I happen to notice you seem rather tired lately. Today especially.”

Sheikh Valdemon pushed his plate aside. “If I appear that way, there’s a good reason for it.”

Rasheed knew of only one reason that could be blamed for his father’s fatigue. He had never discussed with his father the issue of his overactive sex life. But he would never forget his surprise visit to the estate a few months ago. He had found his father passed out in his bedroom with as many as five naked women littering the living room floor. It had been obvious as to what had gone on earlier, before his arrival.

Rasheed had been disheartened at the sight. Up until that night, he had assumed that although his father, at the age of twenty-seven, had been forced by his father, the old sheikh, to marry his mother to form an allegiance between the Middle East and Egypt, sometime over the years they had fallen in love. In all the years he had known him, his father had never summoned a woman from his harem to share his bed. His mother had been the only woman his father had ever appeared to want. At least it had been that way until three months ago. Now he seemed obsessed with seeking out other feminine pleasures. Although he had never discussed that night with his father, he had discussed it with Yasir, who had shrugged it off and simply said that his father had begun developing special needs. They were needs one woman could no longer satisfy.

“I assume you had quite a night, Father.”

The sheikh lifted a dark brow. “My nights are no concern of yours, Rasheed.”

Anger flared within Rasheed. He was about to retort that he hoped his father’s nights would not place his mother’s health in any danger, when Yasir entered the room. The surprised look on his face indicated he had not expected to see Rasheed.

“I did not know you would be joining your father for breakfast, Prince Rasheed.”

Rasheed looked at the man who was now standing beside his father’s chair. He knew it angered Yasir not to know everything that concerned the sheikh. “I had an important matter to discuss with Father.”

The sheikh gave his son his full attention. “What is it, Rasheed? Are you all right?”

Rasheed heard genuine concern in his father’s voice. No matter what their differences were—and lately there seemed to be many—he knew his father loved him deeply.

“Yes, Father, I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know I will be returning to Mowaiti next week. I came to see if you wanted to return home with me, if only for a little while. The people of Mowaiti need to see you. And you haven’t seen Mother for nearly three months.”

Sheikh Valdemon’s features appeared to soften at the mention of his wife. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so Yasir’s words cut him off. “Now is not a good time to leave here, your highness. Have you forgotten the President of this country has asked to meet with you next week?”

It was apparent from the disappointed look that settled in the sheikh’s features that he had. “Yes, I had forgotten. Yasir is right. I should stay here to meet with the President. Tell your mother I’m still needed here and—”

Rasheed stood and faced his father. “What about Mowaiti, Father? Don’t you think you’re needed there, too? Your people need you. Have you forgotten about them?”

“Of course not! What I’m doing in this country will benefit our people, Rasheed. When will you see that? You are my heir and one day you will take my place. What I am doing is assuring that the United States will always be an ally to Mowaiti.”

Rasheed’s face hardened. “All your work won’t mean a thing if Mowaiti does not survive as a country. All your diplomatic efforts would have been wasted, Father.” He turned on his heel and angrily strode out of the room.

Trevor was scowling at the incessant knocking on his hotel door. He had just lain down to grab a few hours of sleep before checking out of the hotel.

He and Ashton had spent most of the early-morning hours in one of the restaurants downstairs. Since he knew Ashton had caught a military plane back to South America, he couldn’t help but wonder who his visitor could be. When the knocking on the door became more persistent, he gritted his teeth as he slipped into his jeans. He angrily stalked over to the door and snatched it open.

A huge smile suddenly covered Trevor’s face as his gaze lit upon the three men standing in the doorway—Justin, Dex and Clayton Madaris. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Justin Madaris’s deep voice spoke with broken calmness.

“We flew down in Uncle Jake’s private plane. We’re here to take you home, Trev.”