Sandra Hill (20 page)

“What the hell is going on here?” he grumbled. That vein was sticking out on his forehead again. “You guys are acting like friggin’ idiots. She’s not the queen, and you are not one of her minions.”

Pretty Boy ignored Ian and helped her put her feet on the floor. “We’re done, honey. Be careful for a little while. Don’t put your shoes on or touch the polish.” He kissed her on the cheek then.

Ian made a growling sound.

Grinning, Pretty Boy swaggered by Ian, saying as he passed him in the doorway, “Don’t be such a dog in the
manager, boss. It might come back to bite you in the butt.”

Ian stared at Maddie for a long moment then, taking in her new outfit and her newly polished finger and toenails.

Does he like what he sees? Oh, yes, he does.
“Betimes you are a dragon’s arse, Ian, but I do not think you are a dog.”

He obviously didn’t understand what she meant, and then he did. He grinned in a rueful manner and said softly, “I would have polished your nails for you.”

After he left, Madrene thought about his words for a long time. And she found herself oddly excited.

She was temptation on the hoof …

Ian felt a little bit like Adam in the Garden of Eden. Eve was sashaying around his “garden,” swinging her sweet breasts in front of him, doing everything but shout, “Catch me if you can.”

I have to be strong. This is just a pretend marriage. She is just another woman. My luck with women stinks. It’s not worth the pain. I have to be strong.

“Sit down, Maddie.” He pointed to the stuffed chair in the living room, across from the sofa where he sat. Sam jumped onto her lap—
lucky cat!
—and immediately fell asleep, snoring.

Ian’s knees were spread and he was leaning forward, absently rubbing his palms down his jeans-clad thighs, from knees to groin, over and over.

She noticed his nervous action.

And his cock—foolish, foolish appendage—grew thick and heavy.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Stop looking at me
there
.”

“Stop rubbing yourself
there
.”

“I wasn’t … never mind.” He closed his knees, steepled his hands before his face, trying to ignore the source of his heated embarrassment. “I brought you in here to talk. It’s important.”

“So, talk.”

So, talk
, he mimicked silently. “The reason the members of my squad were here tonight involves you.”

Her head shot up, and Sam looked up, too. Seeing that it was only him, Sam immediately went back to sleep. “If it involves me, why was I not permitted to listen?”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that blue. Maybe it’s because her skin is so fair and her hair so light. No, they’re just a pretty shade of blue.

“Ian?” she prodded.

He blinked several times. “I needed to explain everything to the guys to see if they’re interested in this … uh, mission.”

“Seals get to approve their missions? They can choose to go or not go where they are ordered?”

Yeah, right.
“No, this is a special case.”

“Special, how?”

Aaarrgh!
“Back to what I was saying … it would have served no purpose to tell you about the mission if it wasn’t approved. But it was. We’re good-to-go now.” He smiled, hoping she understood.

“Let me understand you.” She stood, dumping Sam, and began to pace the small room. “You needed to have your men’s permission afore informing me of a plan that involves me?”

“Maddie—”

“When were you going to ask
my
permission?”

“Maddie—”

“Oh, how like a man! You think women have no brains. You think you are so much smarter.”

“Maddie—”

“Do not ‘Maddie’ me, you stubborn lout. I do not know why I am surprised. My father and brothers did the same. Always underestimating my abilities, unless it came to running the household. Well, I proved just how capable I could be for one year as I led the Norstead warriors in one fight after another to fend off our attackers. Until Steinolf. But that—”

“Shut up!” he shouted.

Which surprised her, of course. “You crude oaf. You cannot speak to me like—”

He stood and shoved her back into her chair. “Just sit and listen for a change. I don’t need or want your nagging. This is not the day for it. I’m pissed off at the SEAL commander. I’m pissed off at the CIA. I’m pissed off at my father. And I’m sure as hell pissed off at you. Dancing with a guy who has notches on his belt for all the women he’s laid. And putting your feet in the lap of a guy who gives new meaning to the word stud.” He stopped suddenly and rubbed a hand across his forehead. Maybe he was turning into a male shrew, as Pretty Boy had muttered earlier tonight. “Hell, Maddie, I sound just like you.”

“
Me?
” But then she changed the subject on him, like she did all the time, probably to distract him. “What has your father—”

No, no, no! I will not talk about my father.
He gave her a glower that stopped her tongue. Thank God! “When I went into the base today, I was ordered to
report immediately to my commander’s office. When I got there—”

“They took away your rank. I feared this would happen … because of me. Well, I will go give your commander the straight story. Do not think that I cannot. Tell me his name so I—”

Ian’s jaw dropped. Then he said, “Do … not … interrupt … me … again.”

She must have seen how angry he was, but did that stop her? Hell, no! “Do … not … give … me … orders.”

He had to smile at her mirroring his own words. “Some wife you are! You don’t show proper respect for your husband.”

He’d been teasing, but she took him seriously. “Mayhap if you acted more like a husband, I would act more like a wife.” He could see that she regretted the words the moment they left her mouth.

The prospect of their acting like a real married couple hung in the air between them. Could they? Should they? Would they?

Finally he shook his head to erase the erotic images that hovered there. “Maybe I should have had you sit in on the meeting. But I didn’t. So let me tell you now.”

“Your apology is accepted.”

“I didn’t apologize.”

She arched her eyebrows at him.

“You’re a hard negotiator.”
I’m turning into my father. He could never apologize either … even when he’d been proven wrong.
He stood and walked over to her chair, then reached a hand out to shake hers. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded her acceptance, but appeared suspicious. As he walked back to the sofa to continue his
explanation of the mission, she said, “You have a nice arse.”

He stopped in his tracks, then plopped down on the sofa. “I beg your pardon.”

“You have a nice arse. I noticed it in those tight jeans as you walked away from me,” she explained. “What? Is that another unsuitable thing for a woman to say to a man?”

“Not for a wife to say to her husband, but a woman who says it to a single, red-blooded male is giving a clear signal.”

She pondered his message for a moment, and said, “Oh.”

“Oh.” That is all. She didn’t say it wasn’t what she wanted. This is probably some female trick. Bait-and-switch, or something.
He explained the mission then, telling her that his teammates had agreed to participate, their primary role being to guard her day and night, waiting for the tangos to attempt to grab her. There would be three men there at all times, one inside, one in back of the house, one in front. Hidden, of course.

She’d been surprisingly quiet while he’d explained the mission. “Are you asking for my permission, or telling me what is going to happen?”

It was more like the latter, but he fudged a bit and said, “We
want
your permission.”

She smiled slightly, obviously catching his hesitation. “The answer is yes.”

Thank God!
“It could be dangerous. We’ll try our best to protect you. Even so, you’d be a decoy to some mean-ass bad guys.”

She shrugged. “I have been in more dangerous spots.”

“Someday you are going to tell me exactly who you are.”

“When I trust you more. There is still a chance you or your comrades would send me back to Steinolf. He is a powerful man.”

“Maddie, I don’t know anyone named Steinolf.”

“We shall see. I will tell all when the time is right.”

“I’m going in to shower, and then to bed. I’ve got to be up by five to report to the base by six. Do you want the shower first?”

“I bathed this morning.”

He smiled. She’d told him her opinion of twice-a-day showers. “Okay. See you later.”

Ian did not realize till later … a short time later … how prophetic his words would be.

When he was in the middle of rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, he glanced through the glass doors of the shower stall, then did a double take.

Maddie was standing there. Watching him.

This is a losing battle.
He turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his middle, but not before she’d seen his full-blown boner. What did she expect? When a woman purposely looked at a naked man, his cock interpreted it one way only.

“Maddie, what are you doing in here? You shouldn’t go into a bathroom when a man is naked.”

“I shouldn’t? Why?”

“It’s just not done.” He glanced down pointedly at the tent in his towel.

“Oh, that! I have seen plenty of
those
. Sometimes, when the housemaids were busy, it was my job to
help the visitors or my warriors bathe. I do not take
that
condition personally.”

“Take it personally, Maddie. Believe me, take it personally.”

She tilted her head in question. “As an insult or a compliment?”

“Definitely a compliment.”

“Hmmm. Then, thank you.”

Holy shit! This is the first time a woman has thanked me for a hard-on.
“Why did you come in here?”

“I came to ask you to shave my legs.” He hadn’t noticed before, but she had a can of his shaving cream in one hand and his razor in the other.

If he hadn’t been surprised before, he sure was now. “Why?”

“The lady in the clothes mart yesterday told me that women shave their legs and armpits in this country. I would like to try it.”

Incredible!
“I’ve never shaved a woman’s legs before.”

“You shave your face. It must be the same thing.”

Not in a Navy minute!
“Not really.”

“I could ask Pretty Boy when he comes next time. Since he painted my toenails, I’m sure he—”

Over my dead body.
“I’ll do it, dammit!”

Rub a dub dub …

Maddie was sitting on the closed toilet seat, with one leg propped up on the edge of the sink vanity.

He had been putting hot water in the sink and laying out a towel when he turned and groaned. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Because I took off my jeans? Tsk-tsk! Think about it. How are you going to shave my legs if they are covered?”

How am I going to stop looking at that shadowy area barely covered by your panties?
He wet her leg with a hot washcloth, soaped it up with shaving cream, ankle to never-never-land. For just a second, he closed his eyes and relished the sensation of, well, feeling up Maddie’s leg. He inhaled and exhaled for strength—which was a lost cause. His favorite body part was practically drooling over Maddie’s long, long legs. Then he hunkered down and began to shave knee to ankle. “I don’t know why you want to do this. Your leg hair is so light, you can hardly see it.”

“But you can feel it.”

Damn straight I can.

“You mentioned your father earlier today. Why was he here in Caliph-ornery-ah? Why did he not come to your home?”

At first he bristled, not wanting to discuss the old man. But he had to think about something other than the burning question: Did she want him to give her a bikini cut? “Yeah, my father was there. The bastard!”

“That is an awful way to speak of your father.”

“He deserves it. Hell, Maddie, he was partly responsible for this mission we’re starting on.”

“Is this not what seals do?”

“Yes, but … you have to know our history. I’m the oldest in my family, and the biggest disappointment to him. No matter what I do to please him, it’s never good enough.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I was a senior master chief for years, a
Navy rate that fitted me perfectly. I was successful there, but not by his standards. He badgered and badgered and badgered till I went to officers’ candidate school and became a junior-grade lieutenant and then a full lieutenant. Then he decided that wasn’t enough. He started badgering me to accept a desk job in D.C.” He looked up at her and saw the sympathy on her face, as well as confusion. “You didn’t understand a word I said, did you?”

“Not the separate words, but the whole of it, yes, I did. Your father wants you to be something you cannot be. In truth, I would guess he wants you to be him.”

He was surprised that she’d been able to cut to the heart of the problem between him and his father. “Bingo!” he said, then put one of her legs down, and lifted the other.
I cannot believe I am shaving the legs of a half-naked woman, and I’m talking about my father. I must have the libido of an earthworm. Well, no, that’s not precisely true. I have the libido. I just have iron control. Someone ought to give me a medal. I could pin it right below my Budweiser, the SEAL trident pin. I can see it now. Some admiral or other, maybe even my dad—horror of horrors—would pin the medal on and say something like, “Great job, MacLean. You could teach all the rest of us how to keep it in our pants.”

“At least you are smiling now.”

I am? Hell, it takes a lot to make me smile after thinking about my dad.

“Tell me about the others in your family.”

She is like a puppy tugging on a pant leg. Tug, tug, tug … till she finally gets what she wants.
He sighed. “My mother died a long time ago, when I was a kid.”

“Mine, too.”

“I have two younger brothers. Clay, who is in his last year at Annapolis and will probably become a ring knocker in the SEALs. My other brother, Ross, is an Air Force pilot; you can imagine what my father thinks of that. Then there’s my sister Alison. She’s a doctor, got married three years ago to a guy who had considered joining the SEALs, but instead turned out to be a real computer genius.”