Here I Am (Arabesque) - By Rochelle Alers Page 0,39

found himself ensnared in a similar soporific spell.

It was as if he were seeing Ciara for the first time: he took in the length of her shapely legs, her trim thighs and how the black dress hugged her hips and breasts. Brandt heard his brothers’ slow exhalation of breath behind him. It was apparent Ciara had the same effect on his brothers that she had on him.

“Who is she?” Sumner whispered in Clarissa’s ear.

“I’ll let Brandt tell you,” she whispered back.

Brandt, ignoring the whispering going on behind his back, extended his hand to Ciara. “Now that everyone’s here, we can go into the dining room.”

Garth and Sumner shared a confused look. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to the lady?” Garth asked.

“My bad,” Brandt drawled, successfully biting back a grin. “Ciara, these are my brothers, Garth and Sumner. Bros, this is Ciara Dennison, my private nurse and our hostess for the evening.” The three exchanged smiles and handshakes. “Now that we have the introductions out of the way, I think it’s time we eat.”

Chapter 10

Ciara, seated on Brandt’s right, stared at Sumner Wainwright. His hair was cropped military-style, but it was his cool gray eyes staring back at her that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She shrugged off the feeling, intent on enjoying the food the chefs had prepared for dinner.

The waiter had filled wineglasses with a pale blush wine and Brandt raised his glass in a toast. “I’d like to toast my family, who had to put up with my bad moods these past few weeks. Thank you for not abandoning me.” His gaze shifted to Ciara. “And to Ciara, who stood her ground and wouldn’t permit me to wallow in the woe-is-me syndrome. You don’t know how much I’ve come to rely on you.”

“Hear, hear,” everyone chorused.

Ciara took a sip of the cool wine, her gaze downcast. When she looked up she saw everyone staring at her. What did they expect her to say? Brandt was her patient, and as his nurse it was her responsibility to take care of him.

The waiter, carrying a tray with a variety of appetizers, shattered the pregnant silence. Placing the tray on a cart, he placed chopsticks at each place setting, and then set out plates of spring rolls, cold noodles with sesame sauce, chicken and beef satay and a variety of steamed chicken and shrimp dumplings along with mixed vegetable dumplings.

“This is the best Thai food I’ve had since returning from Phuket last year,” Fraser said before dipping a piece of spring roll into a plum sauce.

Clarissa stared at her father. “You’re not thinking about returning to Thailand, are you?”

Fraser shook his head. “No. Your mother threatened to divorce me if I go back.”

Brandt rested his hand on Ciara’s knee under the table. “My father represented Wainwright Developers in Thailand when they put up an office building, because he speaks several Asian languages, including Thai, several Vietnamese dialects and fluent Japanese.”

“Ciara, have you ever traveled abroad?” Garth asked.

She smiled. “I had the Grand Tour after graduating high school. My mother took me to Europe for the summer.”

Phyllis Dennison had promised her daughter if she graduated in the top one percent of her class she would take her to Europe. Ciara studied when she should’ve been hanging out with her friends, who teased her about becoming a geek. Geek or not, her desire to see another part of the world trumped going to the mall, movies or sleepovers. Boys were interested in her, but she managed to delay dating until college. By that time it was too late to learn the give and take of interpersonal relationships. She’d chosen badly and in the end suffered.

The conversations floating around the table went from foreign travel to movies and finally to the antics of high-profile A-list movie stars as the appetizers were replaced with pad Thai, a spicy crispy-duck salad then entrées of chicken, beef and shrimp with a plethora of sauces that included ginger, basil, green curry, peanut, sweet and sour, and lemongrass. Brandt had requested the chef prepare his father’s favorite Thai dish, Bank Kok, crispy fried whitefish with bell peppers and string beans served with the chef’s special sauce.

Not only had dinner become a family reunion, but it also served as a peace offering. Conversation was lively, with Brandt smiling and laughing. Even Sumner seemed to shed his dark mood to join the others when Fraser attempted to tell a joke that would’ve been funny if he hadn’t given away the