become the hunted and take care of them in his own way. But he couldn’t think of doing that now. Corinthians’s safety was at stake.
He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment, wondering why the terrorists specifically wanted her. He shook his head. Maybe he was reading more into it than there really was. It wasn’t that the terrorists only wanted her, they’d apparently been interested in taking all the Americans who were key players of the research summit team as hostages. And she had definitely been a key player.
Corinthians stirred in her sleep. Trevor reached out and stroked the side of her face. Her skin felt soft and smooth to his touch. He then advanced his hand lower, toward her chest. He caught himself and stopped within a few inches of her firm, high-perched breasts.
For crying out loud! What in the blazes was wrong with him? He’d been about to fondle her while she slept. Touching her should have been the last thing on his mind. What he should have been focusing on was getting them out of this area and moving them deeper into the jungle.
Angry with himself, he stood and backed away. “Corinthians, wake up,” he said more roughly than he’d intended.
His deep voice awakened Corinthians. She had a tendency to fall into a state of deep sleep whenever she was extremely tired, sometimes sleeping as long as twelve hours straight. She looked up at Trevor through sleep-filled eyes. With daylight breaking through the trees, the shadow of his unshaven face gave him an even manlier aura. His massive shoulders filled his shirt, and his stance emphasized the force of his presence. The way he stood over her was both appealing and compelling. An air of firm strength and virile command exuded from him.
She saw a muscle clench along his jaw, eliminating any traces of softness around his mouth and eyes. And when he continued to stare at her with those dark eyes of his, she felt a quickening in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to reach out and stroke his hard jaw and let her fingers slide across his smooth skin and…
Corinthians took a quick, sharp breath, surprised at where her thoughts were going. She momentarily turned her face away from him, afraid he might be able to read her mind. Evidently she was more tired than she had originally thought to even think such things. Sitting up, she turned and faced him again. His dark eyes were still on her. She refused to let him unnerve her and leaned her head back and met his stare, noting the tightness around his jaw was even more profound. She couldn’t help wondering what had him in such a bad mood.
It suddenly occurred to her that his mood might have something to do with what he had found upon returning to the hotel. A part of her was almost afraid to ask if that was the case. Before she could do so, his voice boomed out at her.
“We need to move on. Now.”
She blinked as the words he had spoken cleared her fatigued mind. “Why? Are the terrorists still at the hotel?”
“No, they left before I got there. Unfortunately, several persons were taken as hostages.”
Corinthians pushed herself into a standing position. The thought that any of the people she had met this week were among the ones taken was very disturbing. “What about the others left behind?”
“I didn’t see any casualties.”
She sighed deeply, relieved. “Thank God for that.”
“But the terrorists did leave their mark.”
“How so?” Her stomach clenched tight. She was afraid she was not going to like what he was about to say.
Trevor told her about the bomb. “But the authorities were arriving when I left. Hopefully, the bomb experts will be able to get everything under control.”
“I hope and pray they will. So now can we start heading back?”
“No.”
Corinthians’s brows raised inquiringly. “No? I don’t understand.”
Trevor wondered just how much he should tell her. The last thing he wanted or needed was a hysterical, worked-up and overwrought woman on his hands.
He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment, wondering why the terrorists specifically wanted her. He shook his head. Maybe he was reading more into it than there really was. It wasn’t that the terrorists only wanted her, they’d apparently been interested in taking all the Americans who were key players of the research summit team as hostages. And she had definitely been a key player.
Corinthians stirred in her sleep. Trevor reached out and stroked the side of her face. Her skin felt soft and smooth to his touch. He then advanced his hand lower, toward her chest. He caught himself and stopped within a few inches of her firm, high-perched breasts.
For crying out loud! What in the blazes was wrong with him? He’d been about to fondle her while she slept. Touching her should have been the last thing on his mind. What he should have been focusing on was getting them out of this area and moving them deeper into the jungle.
Angry with himself, he stood and backed away. “Corinthians, wake up,” he said more roughly than he’d intended.
His deep voice awakened Corinthians. She had a tendency to fall into a state of deep sleep whenever she was extremely tired, sometimes sleeping as long as twelve hours straight. She looked up at Trevor through sleep-filled eyes. With daylight breaking through the trees, the shadow of his unshaven face gave him an even manlier aura. His massive shoulders filled his shirt, and his stance emphasized the force of his presence. The way he stood over her was both appealing and compelling. An air of firm strength and virile command exuded from him.
She saw a muscle clench along his jaw, eliminating any traces of softness around his mouth and eyes. And when he continued to stare at her with those dark eyes of his, she felt a quickening in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to reach out and stroke his hard jaw and let her fingers slide across his smooth skin and…
Corinthians took a quick, sharp breath, surprised at where her thoughts were going. She momentarily turned her face away from him, afraid he might be able to read her mind. Evidently she was more tired than she had originally thought to even think such things. Sitting up, she turned and faced him again. His dark eyes were still on her. She refused to let him unnerve her and leaned her head back and met his stare, noting the tightness around his jaw was even more profound. She couldn’t help wondering what had him in such a bad mood.
It suddenly occurred to her that his mood might have something to do with what he had found upon returning to the hotel. A part of her was almost afraid to ask if that was the case. Before she could do so, his voice boomed out at her.
“We need to move on. Now.”
She blinked as the words he had spoken cleared her fatigued mind. “Why? Are the terrorists still at the hotel?”
“No, they left before I got there. Unfortunately, several persons were taken as hostages.”
Corinthians pushed herself into a standing position. The thought that any of the people she had met this week were among the ones taken was very disturbing. “What about the others left behind?”
“I didn’t see any casualties.”
She sighed deeply, relieved. “Thank God for that.”
“But the terrorists did leave their mark.”
“How so?” Her stomach clenched tight. She was afraid she was not going to like what he was about to say.
Trevor told her about the bomb. “But the authorities were arriving when I left. Hopefully, the bomb experts will be able to get everything under control.”
“I hope and pray they will. So now can we start heading back?”
“No.”
Corinthians’s brows raised inquiringly. “No? I don’t understand.”
Trevor wondered just how much he should tell her. The last thing he wanted or needed was a hysterical, worked-up and overwrought woman on his hands.
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