Fire and Desire

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.”