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She put her jacket back on and left the control tower. One of the ground crew gave her the go-ahead to cross the tarmac and enter the hangar.
This was her last candidate. The teacher had cartwheeled down the corridor of the school she worked at when she’d got the news she’d been accepted. The engineer had stood up and announced his success to all his colleagues to much celebration. Even her marine had whoop-whooped when he’d been told and then proceeded to jump off one of the pieces of training equipment and body surf across the upheld arms of his colleagues. What would a Top Gun instructor do?
This guy was a little unusual. He hadn’t just been selected because he was a pilot—he’d also been selected because he had a master’s degree in microbiology. It seemed he’d completed his studies and immediately signed up for the navy doing two tours of duty in Afghanistan as a pilot before being selected for the Top Gun programme.
Lots of the work on the International Space Station was research based. Experiments could be carried out in a non-gravity environment with cells reacting in different ways. This guy wouldn’t just be able to pilot, he’d also be able to take a lead on some of the experiments on board. He would be a real asset to the team.
She could see the heat rising from the tarmac as she crossed it. The sand was still whipping past her eyes. What on earth had she done with her sunglasses? The heat in the Nevada desert was stifling. An uncomfortable trickle of sweat ran between her shoulder blades. It didn’t matter what the TV adverts said—no antiperspirant could work here.
The walk to the hangar was longer than she expected. Corrine liked to keep up a pristine appearance. Working at one of the most respected agencies in the world meant she constantly felt the need to keep up appearances. But the swirling sand and winds seemed to have other ideas for her.
Her footsteps echoed as she stepped into the hangar. She squinted as her eyes tried to adjust from the glaring sun to the darkened hangar. The place was surprisingly quiet.
A shadow caught her eye. A guy in grey overalls pushing a set of steps away from the plane that had just entered.
She walked swiftly towards it. Her footsteps slowed. The pilot hadn’t left the aircraft. He was walking around it, touching it, talking softly under his breath as he did so. She smiled. She’d heard that pilots became attached to their planes but she’d always thought that was an urban myth—something reserved for the bomber pilots of years gone by.
Her eyes finally adjusted to the gloom. He had his helmet in one hand and she could see the embroidery on his flight suit.
She planted a hand on her hip. ‘Well, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell, I guess you had better tell me why your call sign is Bates.’
* * *
He’d spotted her as soon as she entered the hangar and listened to the click of her heels as she’d crossed the concrete.
The sight was a little unusual for around here. He usually flew with a female radio intercept officer. But Morah was always dressed in her flight suit—he didn’t think he’d ever seen her in a skirt. Certainly not a skirt like this. One that accentuated the flare of her hips and drew attention to a pair of very shapely legs.
His lips curled upwards. The black suit was smart. Appropriate. Covering every single part that should be covered but revealing every curve. The pink silk shirt strained slightly across her breasts, willing him to tug it out from where it was tucked in around her waist. Then it could be equally as dishevelled as her windswept hair.
He’d known why she was here from the second he’d seen her. People didn’t visit Naval Air Station Fallon without good reason. It was too hot. Too inaccessible.
He’d met a lot of people at WSSA during his application process. But he’d never met her before—he’d have remembered.
Her skin was gleaming with the compulsory sheen of sweat that everyone around here permanently wore. He gave a little smile as she neared. His hand was still touching the body of the plane. He always did this. Part of his ritual. Didn’t matter how mundane or routine some of the flying might be, he always gave a little thanks when he reached the ground safely.
Two tours of duty had made him appreciate life. As a Top Gun instructor he wasn’t expected to tour again. He was expected to train other pilots to be the best they could be. He’d trained forty so far. But as much as he loved to fly, as much as he loved the buzz, space had always been his ultimate goal. Now, finally, it was almost in his grasp.
Maybe it was the fact that he knew what she was about to say. Failure had never been an option for him. But something about this woman made him stop and stare. Stop, and almost hold his breath. He could practically see little sparkling stars around this beauty. She looked like a movie-star princess. And since when did he ever think like that?
It must be the moment. The expectation that he was finally on the threshold of his ultimate goal. It couldn’t possibly be anything else.
He smiled at the sound of her voice. She had a twang he’d never heard before. Cute.
He spun around to face her just as a soft waft of her perfume drifted across the hot air between them. It wasn’t the usual kind of perfume. More citrusy, with an edge of spice.
He kept chewing his gum. It helped him concentrate on training exercises. Even in the dim light of the hangar he could see she was a knockout. The curves had been visible from afar, but up close and personal she was younger than he thought. Fresh, unlined skin with a little touch of make-up. She probably hadn’t reckoned on the total sunblock she should be wearing in Nevada. Her blonde hair was straight in some parts, curled in others, with one part that seemed determined to flap around her eyes. It was obviously driving her crazy.
He gave the plane a final tap and stepped towards her. He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. ‘Call signs are kind of personal. You’ll have to know me a whole lot better before I tell you why I’m called Bates.’
He probably shouldn’t have done it. But he couldn’t resist the teasing edge in his voice. Who wouldn’t want to flirt with a woman who looked like this?
A hint of colour appeared in her cheeks. But instead of looking uncomfortable she was staring him straight in the eye. It seemed as though the mystery lady liked a challenge—a bit like himself.
She held out her hand towards him. ‘Dr Corrine Carter, part of the medical assessment team at WSSA.’
A doctor. Interesting. Maybe she was a little older than she actually looked. WSSA wouldn’t take a newbie just out of school. There had to be some experience under that non-existent belt.
Her handshake was firm. She was used to working with military staff and obviously used to holding her own. He pulled his hand back and folded his arms across his chest. She wasn’t military, she was civilian. There was no need to salute.
‘So, what can I do for you, Dr Carter?’ He liked the way that sounded, the way it rolled off the tongue. He could get used to saying that. If she was conscious of his eyes skimming her figure she didn’t flicker. Instead she stood for a second, her gaze pointedly holding his before she took a long time looking down the length of his body and then moving up slowly across his chest, shoulders and head again. Kaboom.
She was playing him at his own game. He liked her more already.
She kept talking. ‘I don’t believe we met during your assessment process.’ She gave a little wave of her hand. ‘Or maybe we did and I’ve just forgotten.’
He could feel the immediate surge of adrenaline. She was baiting him—deliberately. Letting him think that he was forgettable. He didn’t have any doubt that she would have remembered him, just as he would have remembered her.
She straightened her shoulders, unwittingly thrusting her chest towards him. ‘But I’m here today and have the greatest pleasure in letting you know that you’ve made it through the astronaut selection process and have been selected as one of the candidates. Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell.’
She didn’t look as if this was the greatest pleasure of her life. Instead the end of her nose had started to turn slightly pink—as if the Nevada sun had managed to do its damage already. And the words sounded rehearsed—even a little forced.
‘Thanks,’ he said briskly as he turned to walk away. His stomach gave a little flip. It didn’t matter that this was the news he’d been waiting to hear since he was eight years old. It didn’t matter that he’d taken the time to follow in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps, becoming a navy pilot first. It didn’t matter that his other big love—microbiology—had taken a back seat for the last few years. Astronaut training had always been the golden ticket, the ultimate goal.
In all his dreams of this moment, he had imagined himself with a squadron of men, yelling and whooping at the news. But this day was a little different from what he’d expected. He’d been confident. He’d been sure he would qualify. He knew he’d aced most of the tests and he was at his peak of fitness right now. There wasn’t a single medical reason to keep him on this planet.
So, why wasn’t he being more gracious about this?
It was that dang woman. She was causing crazy, distracting thoughts in his head. He was thrown off his game. Austin Mitchell was used to being completely in control. Usually everyone around him was singing to his tune. Dr Carter seemed like the kind of woman who was only interested in her own tune. She wouldn’t be swayed by a duet with him. And that kind of irked too. Austin Mitchell always got the girl.
‘Lieutenant. Lieutenant!’ The last one was a yell. He could hear the rapid fire of her stiletto heels across the concrete. It almost sounded like a run.
Her hand reached for his shoulder and she pulled him around sharply. Being manhandled by a woman. This was a first. And he liked it.
Fire was sparking from her eyes. ‘I wasn’t finished.’
Wow. He liked her like this. All simmering rage, with colour flushing into her cheeks. He knew he could be infuriating. He’d infuriated everyone from janitors to admirals, and all the people in between. He gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘Sorry, I thought you were.’
She sucked in a breath and drew herself up. It was all he could do not to allow his eyes to divert to those straining breasts. Pink satin really suited her skin tone and complemented the dark suit.
She thrust a large brown envelope towards him. ‘Your papers with your instructions. You’ve to report to Houston, Texas at zero eight hundred hours on August the tenth.’ She inclined her head a little. ‘I trust you are able to follow instructions.’
He gave a little smile. ‘Only the important ones.’
She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Lieutenant, do you know that as an astronaut trainee you’re assigned an overseeing officer?’
He blinked. He’d researched just about everything, but this was something he’d forgotten about in amongst all the other stuff. He gave a brief nod. ‘Of course.’
She smiled. A wide, slightly wicked smile that made her eyes gleam. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear you’ve got the toughest officer of all.’
‘And who might that be?’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, that, Lieutenant Commander, would be me. See you in Houston.’ And she turned on her heel and left.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_a1c73680-cce7-549b-94ce-fc277ff36c16)
AUSTIN PULLED UP a stool next to Michael at the bar and they clinked their beer bottles together. ‘Here’s to the next eighteen months.’ Michael smiled. He hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d met a few hours ago—he was still getting over the delight of being selected for the programme.
Austin took a long slow drink of his beer. The bar was packed. And judging from the photos on the walls it seemed it was a long-time favourite of the astronauts based in Houston, Texas. He tried not to stare but it was difficult—he’d followed the careers of most of these astronauts at one point. He’d even done a school project on the first moon landing. Space had always been the dream and these guys were his real-life heroes.
A tune started cranking out from the old-style jukebox in the corner of the room. It was probably older than him and he couldn’t help but smile as the lyrics of ‘You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feelin’’ echoed around the room. There were murmurs beside him as people started to sing along.
The door swung open, letting in a bright streak of orange sunset. He recognised the silhouette straight away. Curves, curves and more curves.
She was wearing a dark suit similar to the one she’d had on the other day. A one-button jacket accentuating her waist and breasts and a knee-skimming skirt. Her blonde hair was smooth and sleek today—he thought he preferred it windswept and interesting, as it had been that first day.
She walked straight over to the bar and nodded at the barman, who seemed to know her drink. He set down a glass in front of her, which she picked up before heading off to one of the booths to sit next to the other instructors.
Michael bumped his elbow. ‘Which one is she, then?’
Austin took another swig of beer. ‘That’s Dr Corrine Carter—one of the medical team.’
Michael frowned. ‘Corrine Carter. That’s quite a sharp name. Sounds edgy.’
Austin watched as she glided into the leather seats in the booth. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said smoothly. ‘It looks all curves to me.’
The bartender came back and smiled. ‘Well, I guess it’s you, then.’
The two heads turned to him. ‘What do you mean?’ asked Michael.
The bartender nodded at Austin. ‘Every year, one of the astronaut candidates asks one of the instructors to dance. It’s a tradition.’ He smiled at Austin. ‘Looks like it’s going to be you.’
Austin shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’
One of the other candidates—Taryn—leaned on the bar. She nodded. ‘I think I’ve heard of this before.’ Her eyes connected with Austin’s. ‘I think he’s serious.’ She glanced over at Corrine and smiled as she took a swig of her drink. ‘What’s wrong, Bates, you scared?’
Every other candidate’s head turned. It seemed as if the bartender had their full attention.
Austin tried not to smile. The girl was good. She already knew how to press all his buttons. He’d have to watch her in future.
The bartender laughed. He must have seen this all before. And Taryn almost made it sound like a dare. ‘Just be thankful for equal opportunities.’ He winked at Austin. ‘One year it was all male candidates and all male instructors.’
The candidates around burst out laughing as Austin pushed the bar stool back and stood up. He put his bottle of beer back on the bar. He glanced over at Corrine. She was in mid conversation with her colleagues, her blonde hair sitting perfectly on her shoulders. She’d slipped off her jacket and was wearing a pale blue short-sleeved fitted shirt. He could see her defined, tanned arms and her long fingers playing in the condensation on the side of her glass. That simple act sent little pulses to places it shouldn’t.
He raised his eyebrows, straightened his uniform and gave a cheeky smile to his colleagues. ‘I’m never one to step away from a challenge,’ he said confidently.
His colleagues whoop-whooped around him. It was bravado. But only he knew that. He was pretty sure what was going to happen next.
Michael grinned. ‘Watch out, Bates. That’s a slippery slope you’re on.’
Austin blinked and took a final drink of his beer. ‘I know,’ he said, smiling as he walked over to the booth.
* * *
She’d seen him as soon as she’d entered the bar. It was amazing how supersonic your vision could become when you focused on not looking at someone. Really focused on not looking at someone. It was much harder than you thought.
The gin wasn’t nearly as refreshing as she wanted it to be. Usually just a few sips made her chill. Tonight she was wound up tighter than a coiled spring. She shuffled along next to the other instructors, slipped off her suit jacket and tried to focus on what they were saying.
‘His points were off the chart.’
‘He really scored that highly?’
She took another sip of her gin. ‘Who are we talking about?’
‘Bates. Austin Mitchell. Also known as Superboy.’
Great. Perfect. The last person she wanted to talk about. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call him a boy.’
Marcia, one of the other instructors, raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? Then just what would you call him?’
The other instructors started laughing good-humouredly. Frank, the guy on her left, nudged her. ‘You gave him the news—how was he?’
Corrine tried not to look flustered and she remembered exactly how he’d looked in that dark hangar with his smouldering eyes. ‘A pain in the neck. He’s too confident.’
‘Aren’t they all?’ Marcia laughed.
Corrine shook her head. ‘No. Not at all. Lisa Kravitz the school teacher—she didn’t expect it at all. She was totally stunned. Lewis Donnell, the marine—he and his whole unit couldn’t have made more noise if they’d tried.’
Marcia looked at her curiously. ‘So what did Bates do that was so different?’
Corrine licked her lips. The mixture of gin and cherry ChapStick wasn’t exactly enticing. She was still annoyed by his less than enthusiastic reaction. ‘Nothing. That was exactly the point. Nothing. It was like he’d expected it all along. I mean, there’s no way anyone could be that confident. There are a thousand different reasons a candidate wouldn’t be selected for the programme.’
Adam—the oldest instructor and a former astronaut himself—gave a secret kind of smile. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes that’s the best attitude. The winning attitude. You don’t have room in your mind to think it won’t actually happen.’
Corrine sighed and ran her finger around the edge of her glass. She’d changed her mind about the gin. A spritzer would have hit the mark much better. She reached over for an empty wine glass on the table and filled it up with some white wine sitting in a cooler next to Marcia.
‘What’s the deal with the call sign anyway? Shouldn’t it be something much cooler?’
‘Like what?’ Frank took a swig of his beer and shifted in his seat.
‘You know, like Maverick or Viper or Cougar or... Lightning.’ She was grasping at straws now.
Frank shook his head. ‘You watch way too many movies, Corrine.’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘But why Bates? It’s not anything like his name. And it’s kind of boring.’
Frank laughed. ‘Oh, that’s easy.’ Then he shook his head. ‘And it’s certainly not boring.’
She wrinkled her nose. Frank had been a Top Gun instructor too. Maybe it was some weird navy thing she didn’t know about.
