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“How did you know?” she asked, a smile coming to her lips.
“The O’Club the other day. I remember you put in one cream and two sugars.” He gave her a devilish look. “Really, Raven, you’re sweet enough that you don’t need the extra sugar.”
Chris laughed freely. “Honey would melt on your tongue, too! You and Dave Haney. I don’t know which of you is worse.” Haney was a navy pilot student who had said kind words to her on that first day of class.
Dan grinned affably, sipping the steaming coffee. “Just as long as he doesn’t have you in his gun sights, he’s safe.”
She sobered. “Dan, we have to talk.”
“I told you—anytime, any place.”
“No, I mean seriously.”
“I’m always serious where you’re concerned, Raven.”
“Then quit grinning like the cat that just ate the mouse!”
Contrite, Dan suppressed a laugh. “Okay, what is it?”
She fingered the mug, staring down at the contents. “This isn’t right, you know.”
“What isn’t?”
“Us. You and me.”
“Why not? You’re a woman and I’m a man.’’
Chris met his smiling eyes, responding to him easily despite the serious subject she wanted to discuss. “Correction—you are a lecher of the first order.”
“Or I’ll die trying.”
“Dying isn’t funny.”
He shrugged. “We’re all going to die someday, Raven. It’s just a question of when and how. Is that what you wanted to discuss so seriously?”
Chris shivered at the mention of death and dying. It brought back sharp, anguished memories. Oh, God, would she ever be able to sleep a night without reliving the events of that horrible day?
“Raven? Hey, where did you fly off to?” Dan kidded, watching her eyes suddenly grow misty and faraway.
“What? Oh—” She paused to gather her thoughts. “No... I wanted to discuss us. I’m a student here and you’re an instructor. If any of the other students find out what has happened, there could be jealousy. I don’t want anyone to think I didn’t earn my way through this school or received preferential treatment.”‘
He started to interrupt, but she held up her hand.
“No, it’s true, Dan,” she continued earnestly. “Some of the jocks will accuse me of that, regardless. But I don’t want the reputation of other women who might follow in my footsteps tarnished because of my...indiscretion.”
He pursed his lips. “You have a relevant point,” he conceded. “But what we do on our off-hours is no one’s business but our own.”
Her nostrils flared. “Come on! You know that in a tight little community such as ours, talk gets around. And eventually, it will land right here at TPS. I just can’t jeopardize my chances of becoming a test pilot. What would Colonel Martin think of this if he knew?” she challenged.
Dan leaned back in the chair, enjoying the play of emotions across her features. “Tell me to be discreet. Which I will be.”
“You haven’t heard a word I said!”
“Calm down. I’m aware of your feelings and your concern for your reputation. And I don’t intend to embarrass you publicly here with the male students.”
She gave him an accusing look. “You’ve got this all planned, haven’t you?”
“I’m a test pilot by nature, Chris. I preplan as much as I can and then carry it through.” A grin edged his mouth. “Come on, are you going to sit there and tell me you didn’t enjoy that kiss?”
She blushed beautifully, at a loss for words, for once. “You just keep your distance,” she warned throatily, her violet eyes golden with fire.
His grin widened. “Is that threat for my benefit or yours?”
“You’re impossible, McCord! I’ve never run into a jock like you in my whole life! Where did they find you?”
He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip of the coffee, his eyes filled with laughter. “I’m one of a kind, Raven. Your kind. And don’t forget it. Because if you try to, I’ll be right there to remind you.”
She stood, infuriated and frustrated with him. “Thanks for the coffee and the flight, Major. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go study. At least my books won’t talk back to me!”
“Hey,” he called, sitting back up, reaching for a manual. “Before you storm out of here, take this and read it.”
Chris turned, giving him a black glare. “What is it?”
“The F-4 manual. You might as well eat, drink and sleep this baby until you can recite it forward and backward. I’m going to test you on it next week. So be ready.”
She stared at the three-inch-thick manual and then at him. Jerking it from his hand, she muttered, “With you, I’m ready for anything!”
4
“I DON’T CARE if the Joint Chiefs of Staff blessed this affair,” Captain Richard Brodie growled, his feet propped up on a desk. “There’s no way a broad can be a test pilot.” He looked up at his two companions who loitered nearby at their respective desks. It was 1245 and most of their fellow students were filtering in for their afternoon classes, which would start promptly at 1300.
“I dunno, Brodie, it’s been almost three weeks and that ‘broad’ as you call her, isn’t looking too bad,” Captain Greg Rondo said, a grin on his wide, handsome features. “Take a look at how good Mallory’s doing in the F-4. She ain’t no slouch at the stick, buddy.”
Rondo was quick to recognize from the outset of his assignment to TPS that every student possessed a marked degree of overachieving drive and desire. He was no exception. He thrived on competition—if not with himself, then pitting his skills against another pilot or taming a shrewish jet aircraft. Yes, they were all winners bent on being the best, setting high personal standards and demands for themselves.
Brodie snorted, turning the paper coffee cup around on his desk. “Screw her.” He lifted his head, glaring up at Rondo. “She’s an icy bitch if I ever saw one.”
Rondo sat down next to him. “She’s got hands, though,” he pointed out, delighting in poking holes in Brodie’s opinionated stance. “Take a look at her test scores in Double Ugly. The gal ain’t flying extra hours for nothing. And from what I’ve seen, she handles the jet real well.”
“You’re only saying that because you want to get close to her,” Brodie growled.
Rondo smiled. “I think she’s kind’a interesting, myself. Good hands, good in the classroom. I’d like to fly with her.” A glint came to his light blue eyes. “I’ll bet that girl could do an inside loop with Ugly and come out smiling.”
Brodie shook his head. “Nobody puts an F-4 into an inside loop and lives to tell about it, buddy. You know that as well as I do.”
Rondo shrugged his thin, wiry shoulders. “Just give me a chance to go up with Mallory, and I’ll show her what an F-4 can really do.”
“You’ll probably scare the hell out of her,” Brodie said, chuckling. “Man, she’s cold.”
“Well, with jocks like you aiming to shoot her down, I don’t blame her for not being none too friendly,” Rondo challenged.
Brodie returned to dutifully turning the cup around in long slender fingers. Mallory was an enigma. She was the epitome of a grade-A student: attentive, serious and worked her rear off on any project assigned to her. A thread of jealousy ate at him. For two weeks he had suffered the ribbing of the other pilots because Mallory had turned him down for a date. There had to be a way to get to her, he finally decided. But what was the key? He had watched in silence as Julio Mendez, the engineering officer from Brazil, had made peace with Mallory. She treated Mendez with deference and politeness, and the Brazilian officer flew as often as he could with Mallory. They were making an impressive team in the standings, gradewise.
He scanned the half-filled classroom of men in green flight suits. Everyone had finished their morning flights by now and was ready to tackle the arduous afternoon of mathematics, theory and aerodynamics. What made Mallory tick? He pursed his thin lips, his brows dipping downward. What got to her? The only time she ever changed was when Captain Karen Barber came around. They were obviously friends, and that was when Mallory seemed most at ease. Somebody had to get to her and force her to screw up. A woman couldn’t stand the pressure.
He made a mental note to contact a friend of his from Reese Air Force Base, where Mallory had been an instructor pilot. Maybe he could dig up some juicy gossip to spread around. Brodie was angry because eighty percent of the class accepted the woman as a bona-fide student. He fumed inwardly. How could a test pilot evaluate equipment for the military if she hadn’t flown in combat?
Everyone was meandering around, holding their perennial cups of coffee, textbooks placed dutifully in front of their desks, talking about the morning’s flights. Brodie saw Karen Barber bounce through the classroom door. Her hair was in ruffled disarray, her eyes sparkling and a smile on her lips. Wasn’t there always a quick smile for everyone from Barber? Often she would drop in to visit with Chris before class started and then disappear down the hall to her office.
Brodie roused himself, watching her like a cat ready to pounce on his next quarry. He checked to make sure Major Mark Hoffman, her boyfriend and also an instructor at TPS, was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t a secret that Karen and Mark were involved with each other, for they were often seen at the O’Club together after class. Brodie didn’t want to tangle with Hoffman because he might have to fly with him at some point. Getting Hoffman angry might also mean the naval officer would deliberately foul up a test flight that they had to pull together, making Brodie look bad. And he didn’t want any bad marks.
“Hey, Barber,” he called. His voice carried across the room, so that everyone automatically looked up from their conversations. “I’m surprised the Air Force lets any women work here at TPS. Everybody knows this is a man’s world over here.”
Karen looked up, stunned by his accusation. Brodie’s tone was both irritating and challenging. Her eyes widened. She swallowed, a myriad of answers forming in the back of her mind. Karen didn’t want trouble. But she couldn’t afford to allow the brash officer to get away with it, either. She was aware of all eyes upon her and felt heat racing upward from her neck into her face.
She forced herself to remain calm. “I’m not even going to respond to such a question, Captain. It doesn’t deserve an answer.”
Some of the men exchanged nervous glances then looked toward Brodie and Karen. Brodie grinned confidently. “How did you broads get assigned over here?”
“Hey, ease off,” Rondo warned under his breath, glancing around at his fellow classmates. A number of other officers were frowning at Brodie, others seemed shocked and still others waited to see the outcome of the confrontation.
Brodie forced a laugh, slapping Rondo on the back. “Hey! It’s okay! We’re just having a little fun here. Aren’t we, Barber? I mean, if you women want to be one of ‘us’ you have to learn to stand up and take some locker-room humor every once in a while.”
“Captain Brodie, why don’t you pick on someone your own size then?” Chris Mallory challenged, her voice cutting like a whip across the room.
There was an abrupt silence as Chris stepped into the room. She still had her helmet and oxygen mask tucked beneath her right arm, having just gotten off a flight. The dark green uniform made it obvious she was a woman even if she had no makeup on. Ebony-colored hair swirled around her shoulders, wispy bangs barely touching her knitted brows. Her violet eyes were narrowed with intensity as she glared over at Brodie. She walked in, her movements calculated to look at ease, as if she weren’t concerned with this meeting. She had heard the conversation as she walked in the door.
Brodie swung his gaze sharply to Mallory. Dropping his feet from the desk, he smiled like a cat finding a bigger mouse to torment. “What’s the matter, Captain, don’t you care for my humor?”
Chris halted, no more than three feet from where he lounged. Her nostrils were flared, her eyes flashing with leashed anger. “No, I don’t. I never did like bullies,” she returned in just as soft a tone. “I’m not about to let you say things like that about Captain Barber or myself.”
Brodie’s mouth thinned. His heart began a faster beat as anger surged through him. Mallory was exactly the same height as himself, and he felt a moment’s intimidation by her challenge. It was immediately replaced with a growing hate. “Do you always butt in where you’re not wanted?” he ground out.
“Brodie!” Rondo begged, getting up and coming over to stand between the two pilots. He smiled weakly at both of them. “Come on, ease off—both of you. It was just a little joke, Chris. Brodie, just tell Karen you’re sorry and we’ll call a truce. What do you say?”
Chris stared at Brodie. “You start something and I’ll finish it. We don’t have to put up with this kind of harassment from you.”
Rondo took a deliberate step between them, his voice hardening. “Both of you knock it off,” he growled quietly, giving them each a warning glare.
“I never apologize for anything I say,” Brodie snarled over at Chris. “Just watch your six, Mallory.”
Chris drew in a sharp breath. When one pilot warned another to watch his “six,” it was as close to throwing a punch as possible. Six was the rear position of any aircraft and was the most vulnerable area to be attacked and shot down from. “You bet I will.”
The room took a collective, silent sigh of relief. Knots of officers broke up immediately, and everyone found their assigned seats. Karen fled. Chris saw tears in her eyes. Damn Brodie, she thought angrily.
Turning to leave, Chris almost collided with Dan at the door. He gave her a strange look and watched as she walked toward the community locker room to stow her gear.
Dan ambled down the aisle, noticing the absence of noise. He felt a tenseness in the room. What had happened? Everyone was strangely quiet. His gaze slid over to Brodie and his clique on the other side of the room. Brodie looked like he was ready to kill someone. Pursing his lips, Dan went to the lectern and paged through the text. This was not the place to find out what had happened. Chris had murder written in her violet eyes. Taking a deep breath before beginning his lecture, Dan knew without a doubt the first verbal salvo had been lobbed. Now it was his job to find out who was involved and dress them down in private and stop it before it got out of hand.
“Chris,” Dan called as the pilots began to disperse for the day, “I want to see you in my office.”
Chris nodded. “Okay. Give me five minutes. I need a cup of coffee.”
“Five minutes,” he agreed. He saw Brodie’s head snap up when he had ordered Chris to his office. And Rondo looked almost as guilty, too. It bothered him that the whole class was still subdued by the end of the afternoon. Whatever had occurred was serious because it had adversely affected everyone. And in this school, confidence, positive outlook and an upbeat attitude was a must for each pilot. It was a grueling forty-six-week course that demanded the class work together as a unit in order to survive. Closing the notebook in one heavy motion, Dan picked it up, walking with slow deliberation to his office.
“Okay, what’s up?” he wanted to know as Chris entered his office and sat down in the only available chair. Dan sensed Chris’s tightly throttled anger. These days, he could see right through her, sensing her true feelings. Had it only been three weeks since meeting her? He roused himself, gently shutting off those warming thoughts and centering on untangling the present difficulty. He looked up at Chris. “Well?”
Chris sat there, relating the entire event. She glanced up at Dan.
“I’m not going to take this from anyone, Dan. And Karen shouldn’t have to take it, either. She’s not even vying for test-pilot status, and he’s picking on her. The Brodies of the world are nothing but—”
“Brodie is a macho jock. He was a hotshot lieutenant who made a reputation in F-4s during the closing days of the war.”
“There’s no war now,” she answered coldly. “If he tries it again, I’ll shoot him down.”
Dan’s mouth quirked upward. “I’d say you already singed his wing tips.”
“The only thing his kind respects is meeting force with force.”
Sitting up, Dan placed both elbows on his desk. “Look, I need you to understand where Brodie and his bunch are coming from. We won’t allow this kind of abuse to happen again, but there was bound to be some friction sooner or later. Brodie will never accept a woman as a test pilot. I don’t care how well you do. It won’t change his mind. He’s buried in the belief of outdated traditions that says women are second-class citizens and have no business behind the stick of a fighter or the yoke of a bomber.”
“I’m not trying to change his mind,” Chris said. “I just don’t want Karen or me harassed by him.”
“When I get done with him, he won’t,” he promised grimly. “But for the sake of the psychology, I’m asking you two women to understand his behavior and realize you don’t need to defend yourself against that kind of childishness. After a while if you don’t react, he’ll stop. But—” he held Chris’s gaze” —if you keep challenging him every time he pulls one of his cheap shots, he’ll know he’s getting to you. Ignore him and he’ll fade away.”
Chris choked on an expletive. “That’ll be the day!” she retorted, and turning on her heel, walked out of the office.
* * *
DAN GLANCED AT his watch. It was almost 2100. Had three hours passed since talking with Chris? Pushing a group of papers away from him that still needed to be corrected, he leaned back, rubbing his face. Captain Brodie would be stopping by at any moment now. Frowning, he pushed a lock of hair off his brow and sat back up in the chair.
More than anything, he wanted to be with Chris right now. Since that night he had impulsively kissed her on the ramp, he had controlled his desire to push her too fast, too soon. He contented himself by flying with Chris almost every evening and on the weekends. A smile flickered in his eyes. She was slowly responding to him, just like a stubborn fighter plane in a dive. Glancing at the paperwork she had done for this morning’s flight, Dan noticed how neat it looked. There wasn’t an ink smudge anywhere. All the relevant numbers and figures were carefully recorded, making the report look professional in every sense of the word.
He didn’t want to work anymore and put the pen down. Flying twice a day was beginning to take its toll on him. If the commandant found out, he would cancel the extra sessions immediately. Grimacing, Dan shook his head as if in denial that it would happen. In just three short weeks Chris had proven beyond a doubt that she had the sensitivity to be a damn good test pilot. Would she be as sensitive to lovemaking? He knew the answer to that, feeling his desire for her heightened once again. God, how he wanted all of her.
Ruefully Dan smiled to himself. You are special Captain Chris Mallory, he told her silently. No man in his right mind would want to just take you to bed and be done with it. There was something incredibly exciting about Chris. Patience, he told himself. Patience and give her a lot of care, and she’ll come around.
Chris wearily rubbed her face, glancing at her watch. It was almost ten-thirty and she was exhausted from the intensity of her studying. Her textbooks and manuals lay in a semicircle around where she sat on the carpeted floor. Leaning back against the couch, she yawned. The day had been incredibly stressful. A soft knock at the door pulled her from the reverie. Frowning, she wondered if it was Karen. Usually she came over every night for a quick visit.
Clad in only a pair of well-worn jeans and a loose weave purple sweater, Chris opened the door. Her eyes widened. It was Dan McCord. Her lips parted as she looked up at his lined features. He looked as tired as she felt. Dan offered her a semblance of a smile.
“I know it’s late—”
“That’s all right, come in,” Chris invited, trying to quell her hammering heart. Ever since he had kissed her that night on the ramp, Dan had stayed out of her life except in an official capacity. Chris was incredibly happy to see him again.
Dan took off his blue flight cap and walked into the room. He was carrying a briefcase bulging with reports to be graded. Chris quietly shut the door, meeting his warming gaze. “Like some tea?”
He folded the cap and stuffed it into the left thigh pocket of his flight suit. “Just getting to see you again is enough,” he answered.
