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.
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
