Terms of Surrender Read online

  Mari’s voice lowered as she added, “You’re taught to be officers and gentlemen, and you really need to respect that code. Be as respectful to women in the outside world as you are to those in the military. Be honest and direct, leave the bad-boy-player games for the civilians. Rise above the urge to take what you want and never call, and maybe those character lessons will help you deal with your relationships later in your careers.”

  Ouch. Direct hit. Danny shifted a little, wanting to see her face, and the tight frown he saw told him he was right. She was speaking from personal experience.

  And judging by the tension of her pose, and the deepening frown, she was pissed.

  He took a sideways step, approaching the door, figuring he’d better get out of here before she saw him. A private conversation was definitely in order.

  But fate and a jumpy sophomore trying to get a better look conspired against him. The kid lurched right just as Danny stepped left. Something—maybe his dress whites—drew the attention of the instructor, and kept it.

  Their stares met and locked. He noted the paleness of her cheeks, the faint, dark smudges under her eyes that probably went unnoticed by everyone else in the room, but spoke to him of sleepless nights. God, he hoped he wasn’t responsible for them.

  Nothing could take away from the prettiness of her face, though. It felt so good to look directly at her after their separation and his fear that he’d never see her again, he couldn’t prevent a smile from widening his lips.

  She didn’t return it. “What the…?” she mumbled.

  Her eyes flared, then slowly narrowed as she gazed at him in silence. Then she raked a thorough stare over him, head to toe. Even from here, he noticed the way her hands shook as she saw him in full uniform for the first time.

  As if the sight truly shocked her, Mari’s mouth dropped open so hard it might have hurt. Obviously she meant it when she’d said she didn’t like men in uniform. It was a damn shame he had to visibly remind her that she didn’t like soldiers or sailors before he’d gotten her to forgive him for not contacting her. He wished he’d changed before coming to find her. But he couldn’t have wasted even the few minutes that would have taken.

  Unable to take the staring contest anymore, Danny lifted a hand in a small wave, his expression hopefully saying what he couldn’t say out loud. That he was very glad to see her, and had sought her out so they could talk.

  She didn’t wave in return. Or smile. She merely continued to stare. Her mouth was open, her shoulders rising as she sucked in deep breaths. As if she’d become light-headed, she reached back to put a steadying palm on the lectern.

  “You okay, Doc?” a voice asked.

  A brief hesitation, then she stiffened, remembering her audience. “I’m fine, thanks.” Jerking herself into a ramrod straight posture, she dropped her hand to her side and her gaze went back to her students.

  He had no doubt, however—none at all—that every bit of her mental focus was entirely on him.

  And those weren’t happy thoughts she was thinking.

  MARISSA DIDN’T KNOW WHICH infuriated her more: That Danny had shown up here, or that he was…was…damn it, what was he?

  A navy officer.

  Yeah. He had to be. Halloween was a long way off, and no way would he be walking around the USNA wearing that uniform unless he was entitled to it. Which meant her heroic Midas man wasn’t a mechanic at all. He wasn’t a simple, supersexy, blue collar guy, the kind on her “safe” list.

  Not that he was safe, under any circumstances. Not for her mental health. Not for her physical health, either. She’d been walking around for two weeks with a headache and a huge knot in her stomach.

  And he definitely wasn’t good for her heart. Because, whether he’d known all along that he had no intention of calling her, or he’d just changed his mind after she left that morning, the organ in the center of her chest had taken a major hit. It still ached. Throbbed, actually, now that she was seeing him in the flesh.

  No. Not in the flesh. In the uniform.

  Damn him. For not calling, for hurting her, for giving her an amazing night that she’d never forget, knowing it would never be repeated.

  Damn him for looking so incredibly good in those pristine clothes. The tailor-made uniform emphasized those broad shoulders and lean hips, the whole ensemble making him look like the ultimate hero.

  Damn him most of all for lying about who he was. She didn’t care how attractive she’d found him that first day. If she’d had any idea he was a military man, she would never have asked him to lunch. And she definitely would never have gone back to his boat with him. His uniform made him look like an officer and a gentleman—in reality, he was a womanizer and a liar. She should know. She’d been his woman…and she’d been lied to.

  “So, Doc, what do you do when you meet the hottest girl you’ve ever seen, but she has a thing against sailors?” a young voice asked.

  Marissa couldn’t prevent an instinctive reply. “You don’t deceive her, that’s for sure.”

  “What do you mean?” the student asked.

  She tore her thoughts away from Danny and addressed the earnest-looking young man in the second row. “Don’t ever hide who you really are. I can’t tell you what will work, but I can tell you what won’t.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Pretending to be something else, to try to manipulate her into liking you before you admit you’re in the service. She’ll be doubly angry when she finds out—and the two strikes that uniform might have cost you when you went up to bat become three with that lie. It will put you out of the game altogether.”

  She couldn’t prevent a quick, sideways glance at Danny, wondering if he felt the heat of her stare through her half-lowered lids.

  He flinched.

  Yeah. He felt it.

  “But how do you get her to even get to know you if she shoots you down as soon as she finds out what you do?”

  “Maybe you don’t,” Marissa said, being blunt, both because she was still angry at Danny, and because these kids really needed to know the truth. “Maybe you just move on to somebody else. Because getting involved with someone under false pretenses is a surefire way to doom any relationship.”

  A deep throat clearing brought her attention back to the tall, incredibly handsome man in white, who was walking through the crowd toward the front of the room. The students melted around him, clearing a path. She saw several grins, and heads coming together in whispers, indicating Danny was well-liked.

  Well, goody for him.

  “It’s the Midas man,” somebody muttered.

  Midas man? She stiffened, more confused than before.

  “Mind if I jump in?” he asked, his voice smooth and calm. She, apparently, was the only one feeling like a complete wreck at this unexpected interaction.

  Of course, it hadn’t been unexpected for him. There had been no surprise in his expression when their stares had met. She suspected he’d come here, knowing he’d find her, though why, she couldn’t say. He’d been brushing her off for weeks. Why bother to seek her out now?

  Maybe he’s horny.

  Yeah. Maybe. If so, she just hoped he was on a firstname basis with his own hand, because he sure wasn’t getting any satisfaction from her.

  Neither are you.

  Right. No satisfaction for her, either. That hurt a little to think about because, to be honest, she didn’t think she’d ever been with a man who’d satisfied her more.

  But it wasn’t happening. Not ever again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice and I give up Mad-Mari.com and change my website to Stupid-Mari.

  Danny didn’t wait for permission before speaking. “You all know lying is never the right way to go.” He glanced around at the others in the crowded room, then back at the first boy, who sat just a few feet away from Mari. And when he spoke, she knew he was talking as much to her as to the students. “But having a mature, trusting relationship goes both ways. You each have to not only be honest, b
ut you have to be willing to listen.”

  Listen. Huh. That honey-tongued man was far too easy to listen to, that was part of the problem!

  “If you make a mistake, and want to set things right, you have to hope the person with whom you want to make amends is willing to hear you out,” he added.

  “That only works if you actually have a decent, reasonable excuse,” Marissa added.

  He finally gave her his full attention, those amber eyes glistening with the intensity of his stare. “And how are you going to know whether the excuse is decent and reasonable unless you give him a chance to explain?”

  She turned to face him, as well. “Some things don’t require explanation.”

  “Like?”

  “Like lying about who you are and what you do. That is inexcusable.”

  “Whose to say somebody lied? I mean, did the actual words leave his mouth? Did he tell this girl, ‘I’m not in the navy,’ or did she just assume it?”

  She hesitated.

  As if not realizing the two adults in the room were shooting comments back and forth to each other, the boy said, “You mean, like, if I just met somebody at a club and wasn’t with my boys or in uniform and it just didn’t come up?”

  Danny nodded. “Something like that.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” she insisted.

  “How do you know?” Danny asked. “How can you be sure if you won’t let him explain things?”

  Hesitating, Marissa quickly thought back to the day they’d met. To their conversation, their every interaction. Had he ever actually said he was a mechanic, or that he was just visiting the base? Or that the name on his mechanic’s overalls didn’t mean what she thought it meant?

  The Midas Man.

  Gold hair. Sexy, confident, strong, smart. Immaculately uniformed…with, oh, God, was that a set of wings on his collar?

  The truth washed over her.

  Son of a bitch. Her good-with-his-hands mechanic was a navy pilot. An elite, reckless, danger-loving, highly romanticized flyboy who probably had women throwing themselves at him every single day—at least, they certainly did in the movies. She’d probably been just another walk in the park—or a roll on the deck—to him.

  Those greasy coveralls? Apparently a flight suit.

  The word she’d taken for a company logo?

  “Midas is your call sign,” she whispered.

  He heard. And nodded once.

  She closed her eyes for a second, trying to pull her thoughts together. Yes, she’d obviously made a big assumption…but he could have corrected it. Correction: he should have corrected it. She very easily recalled their conversation about the military, when she’d mentioned her family, told him she’d broken a rule by dating a soldier. Could he really have been using pure semantics to think she didn’t mean a sailor, as well?

  Tilting her chin up, she opened her eyes and struggled to remain cool and impassive.

  Sticking his hand out, obviously for the benefit of their audience, he said, “Lieutenant Commander Danny Wilkes. Aka Midas.”

  Unable to do anything else, Marissa lifted hers, as well. The brush of skin on skin was electric, like it had been from the very start, and she pulled away as quickly as she could, certain her fingertips had been singed by the heat of him. She didn’t like that he affected her still, when she’d spent the past several days trying hard to get over him. She’d almost convinced herself that she’d had a night of great sex and shouldn’t have expected anything more, anyway. Almost.

  Trouble was, she had expected more. He’d made her expect more.

  Even worse, she’d wanted more. He’d made her want more.

  Shaking off the images flooding her head, she got right back to the point—to the realization she’d quickly made, even after acknowledging she’d been the one who’d jumped the gun that day they’d met. “Okay, so maybe she makes a foolish assumption. But maybe he shouldn’t keep his big mouth shut and play innocent when the conversation turns to how much she dislikes men in the military.”

  “Present company excepted?” Danny asked.

  She caught her lip between her teeth and looked at the faces of the suddenly-more-interested young men. “Of course, I was talking in generalities, not about anyone here.”

  “So was I,” he retorted. “I mean, what if he figured she was making a general statement, not talking specifically about him. Because as far as he can tell, why wouldn’t she know who he is and what he does?”

  She shook her head, a little confused, not to mention still very jumpy.

  Another boy piped in. “But she doesn’t, ’cause they just met at a club and he’s not with his boys or in uniform.”

  Danny turned to the student. “But say she met him on base and he was on KP and wearing a kitchen smock…and she assumes he’s a cook.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Marissa closed her eyes briefly, knowing exactly where he was going.

  He spelled it out. “So how’s he supposed to know she’d make that assumption if she didn’t say, ‘Hey, how do you like being a cook?’ He’s in his everyday element. Would it immediately occur to him that she’d assume he was something else?”

  “Maybe not,” she whispered, realizing it was true.

  Danny had to have been in the navy for a very long time if he was a pilot. Which meant his job had become part of his persona. He was on a navy base, wearing what she now knew had been some kind of uniform. So of course his natural assumption would have been that it was pretty obvious he belonged there.

  “No,” he said, his voice almost as low as hers. “Maybe not. So is he still a really bad guy for not realizing what she thought and spelling it out?”

  Marissa’s attitude softened the tiniest bit—there was no denying the warmth in his expression. She believed him, on this at least. She’d been the one who’d made a pretty big assumption, one which he hadn’t even recognized.

  “I suppose he isn’t,” she admitted.

  Danny smiled, then turned to the boys. “See? Talking, listening, they’re good skills to have.”

  Especially if you talked as sweetly as the smooth-tongued man beside her.

  She stiffened, her defenses remaining high. Because he was good at this—sweet-talking. He was so charming, so quick-witted. Sure, his reasoning had been good, but would she have fallen for it as readily if this conversation had been with anyone less adept at using words to his advantage?

  Maybe. Or maybe not.

  And maybe if it had just been the job thing, she could let this go, as he seemed to want her to. No, things could never go much further between them than sex—his job was an issue, whether he’d lied about it or not. But the sex had been pretty damned spectacular and there were worse ways to have fun with someone, even if there was no future in it.

  The fact remained, however, that he hadn’t called. No biggie if he hadn’t promised he would. Well, it would have been a biggie to her, because whatever she’d said about it at the time, she had truly wanted him to.

  The point was, he had promised. He’d made her believe he was desperate to see her again. Not just saying he’d call, but asking her to plug in her number so he wouldn’t possibly lose it, giving her a specific day on which she’d hear from him.

  He hadn’t followed through. And it had hurt. Badly. The cyber-blood she’d spilled on her website during that time was a stark reminder of just how much she had been hurt.

  The very fact that it had hurt her so much meant it was time to cut her losses. Sex for fun’s sake was one thing. Sex with someone who had the power to hurt her—one she knew she had no future with—was another thing entirely.

  Maybe the twenty-two-year-old Mad-Mari would have taken the risk and just gone for a great sexual affair. But the adult Marissa, who was moving on to the next phase of her life, just wasn’t willing to do it.

  “That’s a very good point,” she finally said, eyeing Danny, then casting her attention toward the class. “The scenario Dan…er, Commander Wilkes s
hared is a good example of how miscommunication can affect relationships.”

  That sexy mouth widened a tiny bit, and his tense posture might have eased, too. As if he really cared about her response.

  Which she might have believed…if he hadn’t blown her off after she’d left that morning.

  “So you…she, wouldn’t hold it against him?” he asked, obviously wanting it written in stone.

  “Maybe not that,” she conceded.

  He pressed his advantage. “And at least if she’s not upset about that, she might stick around long enough to get to know you, give you a chance to tell her some things she might need to hear.”

  She shrugged. Keeping her tone cool, she replied, “Maybe. Or maybe she’s just not interested in hearing any more. But at least you haven’t lied about it. The important thing is, don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.” She shot him a direct stare. “And once she makes it clear that she’s not interested, you need to let it go and move on.”

  His mouth tightened, and she’d swear she heard a sigh of frustration, even as the students took up the conversation amongst themselves.

  Then she definitely heard something else.

  Him. Muttering two words.

  “Like hell.”

  7

  Monday, 5/23/10, 07:05 p.m.

  www.mad-mari.com/2011/05/23/onedown

  Well, I made it through day one on the job, and I think it went pretty well. Most importantly, I liked it. Not getting into specifics here, but I have to say I think I’ve found something I might be really good at. Or, at least, a group I am good at working with.

  Sounds cryptic, I know. Sorry. I really have to keep my real life separate from my cyber one.

  Here’s something interesting…I ran into Mr. Perfect.

  No, he didn’t explain why he didn’t call. Well, actually, I didn’t give him a chance to. He tried to talk to me as I was leaving, but ended up getting called over by some bigwig, so I made my getaway. Yes, that’s me, the chickenshit. Figured it was better to play it cool and act like I don’t care enough to want an explanation than to be a blubbery girl and be all self-righteous about it.