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| My daughter in a borrowed sevillana dress. |
Some unusual differences I noticed at the feria was that many of the games on the midway gave away shots of thick, sweet wine (muscatell) rather than the typical stuffed animal. And rather than the fun ending at midnight, in Spain the feria goes on all night long. I can't forget to include the dancing! All day and through the night, the people, young and old alike, dance. I simply loved to watch them as they swished, swayed and stomped to the beats played by a Spanish guitar.
Traditionally, the ferias also have casetas, big tents where families and organizations go to eat, drink and dance the night away. In my time, many of the casetas were privately owned, so an invitation was needed to get in. A private caseta is an important setting in a scene in Touched by Midas.
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.”
Discover more about Brenna Zinn!
