Free Fire and Desire (Arabesque) by Brenda Jackson Page B

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