Free Fire and Desire (Arabesque) by Brenda Jackson

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.