Touched By Midas

By Brenna Zinn

As a Navy SEAL, Michael “Midas” Baudine trains countless hours to prepare for combat. But a man can’t train for luck, so preserving his “Midas touch” good fortune is something he takes seriously. He'll go to extreme measures to get his team on-board with his pre-mission, luck-assuring routines, even if it means accepting a challenge. Get the sexy but uptight teacher, who blocks his advances at every turn, to the rock concert a week from today, and they’ll comply. With a crazy rock star dad and top supermodel mom, Angie Summers was once a wild child but, wanting more out of life, has done her best to live under the radar of fame. She’s even assumed a secret identity and found a job teaching at Naval Station Rota, Spain. Her attempt at a “normal” life is quickly turned on its ear when a hot-as-hell Navy SEAL sweet talks her into a date she’ll never forget and may eventually regret. While spending time with the muscle-bound sailor unleashes Angie’s need to let the wild child out to play, which could threaten her anonymity, Midas finds himself on the precipice of breaking the first rule of luck—never fall for a woman.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Aug 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781628305524

Brenna Zinn

Brenna hails from the Lone Star state where she lives with her husband and four dogs, three of which are as big as long horns. She’s a fun-loving writer who likes nothing better than to explore while she travels (no planned excursions, please!), eat what others cook (it works out better for everyone that way), and avoid the gym whenever possible. Her journey through life has taken her all over the United States, as well as many places throughout the world. Using her travel experience as a guide and peppering in interesting characters she’s met along the way, she loves nothing better than weaving tales of romance and leaving readers yearning for adventures of their own.

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Touched by Midas

by

Brenna Zinn

Book Four, SEALs Going Hot

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Touched By Midas

COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Brenna Zinn

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

Publishing History

First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2014

Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-552-4

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To the men and women of the armed forces.

Your service is greatly appreciated and never forgotten.

To the friends I made while my husband was stationed at Naval Station Rota, Spain.

I hope I did you proud and brought back fond memories of Rota with this book.

I miss you all—my military family.

PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

Brenna Zinn

AND HER BOOKS

"Readers beware…your fingers may get blisters.

~ Jacquelyn R. Ward, The Romance Studio

DAGGER’S EDGE

Of the entire (SEALs On Fire) series, this is my absolute favorite story. I don’t know if it’s the chemestry between Dagger and Mia, the backstory or the author’s presentation of their emotions, but this was a keeper for me.

~Chris, A Night Owl EroticaTop Pick

"I loved the author's writing style and voice. Dagger's Edge was the perfect blend of heat, humor, and sensuality.

~Nina, Nina’s Literary Xscape

HIS AT LAST

"I truly enjoyed the humor, the fun, and the erotic blend that wouldn’t let me put this book down. Absolutely a delightful read.

~ Rachel Firasek, RachelFirasek.Com

Chapter One

The blades of two Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawks sliced through the night sky on their way to the tiny island nation of Koshmeca. A few hundred miles west off the Syrian coast in the Mediterranean Sea and not much larger than a postage stamp, Koshmeca succeeded at staying well below the world’s radar. Situations like military coups tended to draw attention though, as did the hostile takeover of Koshmeca’s capital building by rebel forces and the shooting of the country’s dictator.

Michael Midas Baudine figured the dictator made a serious mistake by showing himself on the balcony of his grand palace. Not a smart thing to do considering an unruly bunch of pissed people armed to the teeth with guns had crowded outside the palace gates. After fifteen years of rule, the dictator’s luck ran out when a bullet found his chest.

Unfortunately for Sabrina Purdy, an archeology student from the University of Minnesota on a dig not far from the Koshmeca capital, her luck hadn’t been good during the coup either. Why the daughter of a United States Senator remained on the island when Americans were advised to leave, Midas couldn’t guess. Now, she was captive of the rebel militia forces who thought she’d make a great bargaining tool with the American government for money and guns.

The Koshmeca militia couldn’t be more wrong.

As the Black Hawks continued their journey over the miles and miles of dark nothingness, Midas leaned over his bulky tactical vest and triple checked his drab khaki kneepads. The blood splats, so dried and rusty they appeared ancient, coated both. Though possibly the most disgusting items he owned, replacing them was simply out of the question. Those ugly ass pads had been on every successful mission he’d lived through. Why tempt fate by not wearing them?

His fingers itched to pull the ends of his battle dress uniform trousers from his combat boots and confirm he had, in fact, worn the lucky socks with the bleach stains. Doing so was stupid, of course. It might ease his mind, but all his gear would make that simple task a huge pain in the ass. Plus, the other members of his team would see and know precisely what he was doing and why. Instead, Midas reclined against the vibrating metal of the big bird’s cabin and idly traced the oval of the Saint Michael medal, his namesake, beneath his shirt.

Including packing and repacking his parachute four times, eating exactly and only six eggs and six pieces of bacon for dinner, and saying one Hail Mary before taking off, every step of his pre-mission ritual had been checked off. Except for tapping his helmet three times—Father, Son, and Holy Ghost—before jumping, he’d done everything needed to ensure his extra protection, as well as the others. Though his team had witnessed his incredible luck many times, they didn’t participate in his routine.

Midas glanced around the cavity of the Black Hawk, taking in the three faces of his SEAL team, which were dimly illuminated yellow and green by the nearby cockpit instrument panel. Despite touchdown in less than an hour to extract Ms. Purdy from her captors, the men appeared focused but relaxed. Just another day at the office.

The thoughts about the dictator’s and Ms. Purdy’s bad fortunes caused Midas’ eyes to narrow as he took in the most junior member of the team, Bear.

When would these guys ever learn?

If Midas had warned the rest of the guys in his team once, he’d warned them a thousand times—don’t get attached to females. Sure, women were fun and satisfied a lot of the needs every man had, but falling for one equated to one thing, becoming unlucky. There simply wasn’t much worse than having fortune turn a blind eye on a man, especially for a man who made a living putting his life at risk.

Each SEAL endured months of training to join the ranks of Special Operations, and the training didn’t end there. Some days it seemed like that was all they did. They trained with other SEAL teams, they trained with other branches in the military, and sometimes they trained with military units from other countries like Great Britain and Israel. They trained so much, the moves they made during actual missions came naturally, like breathing or blinking.

One thing a SEAL couldn’t train for though was luck. A guy either had it or he didn’t. As one of the luckiest sons of bitches on any SEAL team, Midas cheated death more times than Steven Spielberg made blockbuster movies. He, according to his friends, possessed the Midas touch. Maintaining that touch, that blessed nod from the powers that be, was third only to performing to the best of his ability as a member of the United States Navy and watching the sixes of the other men on his team.

Bear apparently thought he could escape the power of divine providence when he’d gone off the deep end and asked his high school sweetheart to marry him. Dumb motherfucker. Now, Midas would have to work twice as hard to keep the young SEAL from getting himself hurt. Even with all their training, the world seemed to paint a big red target on people with no luck. Bad shit rained down on them all the time.

Bear offered Midas a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders. Long black hair reaching past his shoulders and a beard that hadn’t been touched in months, Bear’s nickname couldn’t fit the man more perfectly. Besides being hairy, he was short and heavily built like an American black bear and just as wild. At least he had been until he’d lost his head and his good kismet over a woman.

I know what that scowl means, Midas, Bear said into the microphone attached to his headset. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t help myself. I love Charlotte. I want to marry her.

Amberjack, a good ol’ boy from Port Aransas, Texas, who swam so well he’d practically grown fins and gills, poked a finger in his mouth and pretended to gag. Where’s the hurl bag on this bird? Y’all are going to make me sick with all this sweet talk.

He’s just pussy-whipped, Ox grunted. By far the largest member of the team, Ox bulldozed through the heart of matters much like he bulldozed his way through fences, small houses, and anything not made of solid steel. Either that or Charlotte gave him an ultimatum. No more free milk. She closed the dairy until our boy Bear bought the cow.

It’s not like that, man, Bear responded with his usual easygoing affability. At some point, a man has to settle down. Charlotte’s stuck with me through all the dumb shit I’ve gotten myself into. You all know how she is. She’s a keeper. I can’t expect her to wait for me forever.

But you’re not going to be in the service forever, Amberjack interjected. Just until you’re too old to walk.

Or chase skirts, Ox agreed.

"Well, if we’re all done with our group therapy, let me just