Fire and Desire (Arabesque)

by Jackson, Brenda

  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.”

  Chapter 21

  Three weeks later

  Corinthians slowly opened her eyes to face another day. Sunlight filtered through the curtains in her bedroom, bathing it in a soft, golden glow. She yawned, then stretched. She started to get out of bed when suddenly a moment of dizziness and a feeling of nausea hit her, making her lie back down. She frowned. The same thing had happened to her yesterday morning, as well. Maybe her mother had been right in saying her resistance was probably low and that she was coming down with the flu or something.

  It had been three weeks since she had flown to Louisiana from Key West with her parents and Josh. A lot of good things had happened since then. The Navy SEALs had infiltrated the terrorists’ hideout and had overpowered them without harming any of the hostages. It had been a happy ending, although the leader of the terrorist group had managed to get away without being captured.

  Her boss, Adam Flynn, as well as S. T. Remington, the president and CEO of Remington Oil, had flown to her parents’ home to see her. S. T. Remington had ordered that she take some additional time off work with pay, four weeks to be exact, and that if she felt she needed more to let him know.

  Dex and Caitlin had also flown to Louisiana to see her, and the flowers she had received from a number of people, including Rasheed Valdemon, had certainly lifted her spirits. Brenna had come to stay with her during her first week back. She had enjoyed the company of her best friend.

  Corinthians slumped under the covers when she thought about the one thing that had bothered her over the past three weeks. Not once had Trevor called her. A part of her had not believed he would dismiss her from his life like he had, but he had proven her wrong. Each day she promised herself she would not think of him and that she would not care, but she ended up doing both of those things anyway.

  When Corinthians heard the soft knock that sounded on her bedroom door, she sat up again, willing her bout of dizziness and nausea to pass. “Yes?” she called out through the door. “Come in.”

  She was surprised when Joshua walked in. “Josh, I didn’t know you were home.”

  His frown was automatic. “I’m not home. I’ve told you more than once that this place can never be home to me. Home is Texas.”

  Corinthians raised her eyes to the ceiling. Her parents’ move from Texas to Louisiana had always been a sore spot with Joshua. She had been in her freshman year of high school and Josh had been attending college at the University of Texas, when their parents had announced her father’s acceptance to pastor a church in Alexandria, Louisiana. Josh had been furious and could not believe their parents would consider moving away from their beloved native state of Texas. He remained in Texas and refused to consider her parents’ beautiful home as his, although he visited their parents occasionally. She had had no problem with the move although it had meant leaving Brenna. But the two of them had decided to keep in touch and hook back up when they attended college at Grambl
ing State University near Shreveport.

  “Sorry, I forgot. My mistake,” she said. “When did you get in?”

  “Late last night, but you had already gone to bed so I decided not to bother you. I’m only going to be here today. I’m flying out first thing in the morning.” He came and sat on the edge of her bed. “How have things been going?”

  “Fine, but I may be coming down with the flu. For the past few days I’ve been unable to keep anything in my stomach.”

  Joshua stood and immediately backed away. “Thanks for telling me. I can’t afford to be sick.”

  “Why? Haven’t you and your GOP friends cut enough social programs yet?”

  It was evident Joshua did not appreciate her comment, but Corinthians didn’t care. There was no way she would ever endorse her brother’s political views.

  “Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Joshua said, taking a seat in the chair in what he considered to be a safe distance from her.

  “It’s your call,” she said, smiling. “One day you’ll realize your mistake.”

  “And one day you’ll realize yours. Speaking of mistakes, I’m glad you didn’t let anything develop between you and Trevor Grant while the two of you were on the run in the jungle.”

  Corinthians raised a brow and looked pointedly at her brother. “What are you talking about?”

  Joshua shrugged. “I did mention the article that appeared in the newspapers right before you and Grant were rescued, didn’t I?”

  “No. What article?”

  “Nothing I was concerned about, of course, but a certain reporter who I’ve rubbed the wrong way one time or another took advantage of your escape into the jungle with Grant to get back at me. He wrote an article that insinuated you and Grant had a thing going on, and that’s the reason he went to such extremes to protect you. But I assured anyone who asked that it wasn’t true.” Joshua shifted in his seat so he could look at her intently. “I was right, wasn’t I, Corinthians?”