Touched By Midas (SEALs Going Hot Book 4) (4 page)

“Here.” She stood then dusted off the top of the stool. “I was on my way out anyway.” After grabbing her purse, she headed straight for the pub’s open door. “Catch you later, Susan. We’ll talk Monday.”

Not waiting for Susan’s reply, Angie charged out and stepped directly onto the narrow street. Immediately, she reared back as a high-pitched warning of a horn blared just seconds before a woman on a moped whizzed by. Her backside slammed into a wall of solid muscle.

“You nearly killed yourself trying to get away from me again.” Midas spoke quietly but directly into her ear. “What is it about me that you can’t seem to stomach?”

He peered over her shoulder and, apparently satisfied they were in no danger, grabbed her hand. He pulled her along as he strode over the ancient road’s uneven cobblestones toward the pier.

“Hey!” She twisted her arm, trying to dislodge her hand from his hold. “Let go of me. I’m not some duffle bag you can drag around.”

“I haven’t said but a dozen words do you, so I can’t have offended you yet,” he continued calmly, ignoring her protest. “With the exception of this moment, I’ve been nothing but a gentleman. But every time I’m near you run like a repulsed rabbit.”

She yanked hard. Her hand slipped free with such force, she punched herself in the middle of her chest.

“Aaaach!”

Stopping in the middle of the street, she clutched at her breastbone. Though her chest throbbed, the hurt she’d accidently inflicted had more to do with embarrassment than real pain.

“You okay?” Midas asked on the breath of a slight chuckle. “I didn’t mean for you hit yourself.”

He put his big hands on her shoulders, making her feel small in comparison to his much larger frame. He came so close she could feel warmth radiating from his smoking hot body. Even the fingertips he pressed into her skin seemed to sizzle.

His proximity and touch skyrocketed her internal temperature as though her core had been blasted by a small nuclear explosion. Heat shot up her neck and burned her cheeks. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her exposed flesh, making the spring evening air feel suddenly chilly.

The intensity of her reaction to the SEAL shook her so badly, she forced herself to step back despite the unsteadiness of her legs. Since when did a man, any man, have such an effect on her?

Since never.

“I’m fine.” She finally managed to say once she found the power of speech. Maybe she should rethink the whole abstaining from sex until she found a nice guy she could trust and be herself with idea. If she became this unglued every time she got close to a good-looking SEAL, she had a genuine problem on her hands.

“Good.” He nodded to the sidewalk skirting the pier where small boats bobbed lazily with the tide. “How about you and I take a stroll? Maybe get to know each other a little better.”

Angie immediately shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She took another backward step and hitched her purse strap on to her shoulder. Hopefully he didn’t notice her awkward movements, or at least attribute them to any interest she might have in him. The last thing the man needed was more encouragement. “I have papers to grade.”

“It’s Friday night. You have the whole weekend to get that done. Until then, we have all of this to choose from.” He waved his open arm at the small restaurants and bars facing the open waters of the harbor. Dusk was settling over the city and the lights from the businesses and streetlamps beckoned with their romantic glow.

“Have dinner with me. Some tapas, maybe. How about coffee?” He directed his attention to her, making it impossible to look anywhere but the azure pools of his eyes.

Short zaps of electricity traveled down her arms into her fingers, making the digits involuntarily quiver with temptation. How soft would his skin feel if she slid a fingertip up his rounded biceps to his squared shoulder? Surely he’d have at least a light dusting of springy curls on the hilly plains of his chest and over his washboard abs. She’d probably encounter even more curls as her wondering hands traveled down the muscular valley of his groin.

Her dry throat tightened. She pushed down a swallow, wishing she still had a beer nearby.

How did nice girls survive? How did they resist the sexual magnetism of guys like Midas long enough to find the kind of man they could have a real relationship with? The seductive SEAL with the charming smile could make even a nun think twice about her vows, let alone a world-weary bitch trying to redeem herself.

“Sorry,” Angie heard herself say before the last of her restraint gave way. She turned and started walking, avoiding any further tax to her self-control.

“You think I’m not good enough for you?”

His question halted her foot mid-step. Of all the things he could have said, he’d found the one she couldn’t ignore. The one that suggested she was still the unkind woman of her youth. The girl who used people as much as they used her.

Biting a lip, she released a long sigh and made an about face.

“No. I don’t think you’re not good enough for me.”

“That’s easy enough to say, but harder to prove. Go out with me. Show me that your words are worth something.”

So many thoughts swirled through her mind. Some snarky and downright mean. Others a complete abdication to the power that was Midas. But before she could decide which one to toss out, the sailor threw down the gauntlet.

“I’ve got tickets to see Stereo Arsenal next week,” he said, coming closer. “Go with me. Be my date to what will probably be the show of the year on base.”

The mention of her father’s band broke the hold Midas had on her. No way she’d go and be recognized by one of the band members, roadies or fans. She’d already made arrangements for a few hours of private time with her parents while they were in Rota. That visit alone could compromise her identity.

“Sorry, buddy. No can do. I’m really not a fan of rock-and-roll.”

“Not a fan of rock and roll?” His eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “How is that even possible? Don’t you know that Stereo Arsenal is one of the best bands from the 80s? These guys sold more albums and had more top-ten hits than anyone else in their genre. They’re classic. Just scoring tickets for the show was a major coup.”

She couldn’t help the pride swelling her chest. Her father might be the leader of the madhouse, but he and the band had worked hard to rise to the top. They deserved every accolade they received.

“I don’t want to go to the concert by myself,” he persisted, increasing the wattage to his dazzling smile. “Prove your words are more than just sounds coming from those pretty lips.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “There are dozens of beautiful women in Rota who would love to be your date. Maybe you should ask one of them.”

“You’re the only person I’m interested in. You have been for a while.”

She’d heard a lot of pickup lines in her lifetime, but the one he just spouted had to be one of the best. It even had her jaded heart fluttering. The man was more than just a handsome face. He had skills, she’d give him that.

A small car turned a corner and headed in their direction. Midas grabbed her hand, leading her from the street to a long stretch of grass outlining the marina. Across the bay, the lights from Cadiz twinkled like stars against the water. The delicious smells of cooking food and sweet sangria scented the air.

The whole tableau around her was becoming a little too romantic for her liking. Midas wasn’t the long-lasting relationship-type she was searching for. He was sexy, the love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy, who basked in the glow of conquering prey and climbing his way to the top of the adoration mountain. She’d seen him around his friends. He liked to be the leader of the pack, numero uno, the man in the limelight. God only knew what he would do if he ever found out her real identity. Most likely sell the story to some trashy celebrity magazine, where his handsome face could be on display for the entire world to see and admire.

The strong desire to bed the SEAL who thought the sun rose and set on his ass and then knocking him down to the size of a handheld bobble head tempted like crack cocaine to a recovering drug addict. Clearly she still had more work to do in the Mother Teresa department. The sooner she could make her getaway, the better.

“Do us both a favor and take no for my answer. Trust me, it’s for the best.” Once again, she tried to pull away from his grasp, but this time he not only held tight, he clasped his free hand on their entwined fingers.

“Tell you what,” he said, inching closer. “The Rota
feria
is happening this weekend. Go with me to the fair tomorrow night. If it’s not the best date you’ve ever had, I’ll never ask you out again. I’ll leave you alone to the fabulous life you seem to be enjoying so much.”

A light whiff of his intoxicating cologne wafted from his warm body, clouding her already impaired senses. Shivers rippled down her back and up her quaking legs, meeting in her belly where they loop-de-looped as though on a roller coaster. Between her legs a familiar ache pulsed. She’d been without a man—the right man—for too long.

“And if it is the best date?” Her voice sounded strangled. How could she possibly concentrate with so much testosterone and lust inundating her sensibilities?

“Then you go to the concert with me. I’ll show you just how good rock-and-roll can be.”

Thank God she had a little control of her faculties, otherwise she would have burst out laughing. She knew exactly how good
and
how bad rock-and-roll could be.

The offer he put before her was tempting. Midas had given her a golden opportunity to finally get him out of her hair for good.

Little did he know she’d dated some of the legends of the silver screen, as well as the music scene. Dozens of men had wooed her with fancy meals, trips and the like. The odds of the Navy SEAL standing before her besting her previous dates were so minuscule that not even a down-and-out Vegas bookie would consider making odds.

“You’re saying you’ll never bother me again if I do this?” She leaned back to gauge the expression on his face. He was so irritably good looking and beguiling, would she even be able to tell if he was lying? “You’ll stop asking me out if I go to the fair with you and don’t have the date of the century?”

“As long as you promise to give me a fair chance and are one-hundred percent honest with me once the date is over. Honesty is extremely important to me, just so you know.” He released her hand and held up two fingers. “If you’ll do that, then you have my solemn promise. Scouts honor.”

Agreeing had to be a mistake. Most likely there was some kind of catch or trick she couldn’t see through. There couldn’t be a way to make a night at a simple fair in Rota, Spain the best night of her entire life. No freaking way.

“Fine.” She dug in her purse for a scrap of paper and a pen. When she finished writing her address, she held out the ripped slip. He reached for it, but she yanked back the paper. “Promise me one more time. If I tell you honestly that you didn’t best any of my previous dates, we are done. No more accidently meeting me on base. No more holding doors open. No more
anything
.”

Midas snatched the slip from her grasp and grinned. “You just worry about where you want to eat before the concert. I’m a man who never loses.”

Chapter Four

White-washed stucco homes with terraced roofs and planters bursting with bright blooms of cascading bougainvillea lined Angie’s street. With the beach and the Atlantic Ocean only a block away, the views from her rooftop, not to mention her second-story bedroom, couldn’t be beat. Now that the fine weather of late spring warmed the fragrant air, all the windows in the house were open and the blended sounds of waves lapping the shore, music and lively conversations drifted in on the breeze. As always, the nearby bodegas and restaurants hugging the
Costa del Luz
were filled with people eager to take advantage of the sunny afternoon. Unlike her, the folks enjoying their day didn’t have to worry about going on a date with a hot Navy SEAL who thought he could sweep her off her feet and thereby win her presence at her father’s upcoming concert.

Though agreeing to Midas’ proposal couldn’t be smart, she’d spent the entire morning searching for loopholes or anything that could trap her into going to her father’s gig if she didn’t, indeed, have the time of her life at the fair that evening. Now late afternoon, she still stared out her bedroom window, fixated on the sights and sounds of the small Spanish town while mulling over the puzzling situation she’d put herself in. Why did she bother giving a second thought to their impending date? There was no way he could possibly win.

In the distance, loud talking and laughing of women interrupted her wandering thoughts of Midas and the tricks he might have up his sleeve. As she continued to gaze at the endless blue-green water beyond the beach, the ruckus grew louder. Soon a small group of ladies speaking interchangeably in both English and Spanish came into view. When the gathering stopped in the middle of the street and pointed to her house, Angie veered back and peeked outside through the side of the window.

Five women of similar height, build and dark-colored hair congregated outside her gate. The oldest looked not much older than she did. The youngest couldn’t be more than ten years her junior. They congregated around one woman in a pale yellow dress and then pointed toward the front door.

Had she been found out? Were these groupies of Stereo Arsenal who had somehow tracked her down? Impossible.

The shortest of the group, a lovely girl whose long dark locks draped over her shoulders, pressed the intercom button near the driveway gate. The sharp noise of the buzzer sounded downstairs.

Angie’s bare feet rooted to the cold marble floor. She craned her neck for another look at the small assembly outside the three-foot masonry wall near her front gate, taking a moment to scan each of the five pretty, yet strangely familiar faces.

The buzzer sounded again, urging her to at least acknowledge the visitors. Fashionably dressed in brightly colored clothes and grasping large shopping bags, the women looked harmless enough. Most likely they had come to the wrong address.