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.”
Corinthians tried swallowing back the laughter that formed in her throat, but couldn't, and laughed despite not wanting to. She was glad they were the only ones out on the balcony.
“Thanks,” she said afterward. “I needed that. And thanks for your help today. I don't know what I would have done had you not shown up.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. “I'm really curious to know just why you were there.”
Trevor's hand tightened on his glass, needing to feel something cool against his skin. Corinthians's laugh had been a breathy, sensuous sound that had made his body feel heated. “I was doing the same thing you were doing, taking a tour of the city. I told you at dinner yesterday that I was coming here today. I even suggested that we come together.”
Corinthians nodded, remembering that conversation, then wishing she hadn't. “What time did you leave Rio?”
“Around ten. I got a late start because I requested a change in hotel rooms. Evidently the couple in the room next to mine are on their honeymoon. Their constant squeaking bed keeps me awake at night.” He didn't add that it also reminded him of what he'd been missing.
Corinthians shook her head, smiling, not sure if he was joking or telling the truth about the amorous couple. At that moment the waiter returned with their drinks and appetizers.
“What made you decide to go into the Marines?” Corinthians asked after eating a pão de queijo and taking a sip of wine.
“I heard they were looking for a few good men, and I was cocky enough to believe that meant they were definitely looking for me.”
Corinthians rolled her eyes. The man didn't lack any self-confidence. She looked at him speculatively. “I can see you as a Marine.”
“Why?”
“Because you're hard.”
Trevor
