When that broad frame had walked back into her office the other day she’d felt a familiar ache. The one that would be there whether she was pregnant or not.

This was a guy she’d connected with. This was a guy who could make her burst with happiness one second and have her spitting feathers the next.

He was hot. But he was so much more than hot. She felt safe around him. She felt special. She loved the little twinkle in his bright blue eyes that he seemed to save just for her.

The connection felt real. The connection felt so real. And it was the one she’d been waiting for. The one that other people in love had told her would happen one day.

And now it had. In a set of circumstances she couldn’t have imagined.

Why couldn’t her special guy be someone ordinary … someone normal? Not some hotshot pilot who constantly tried to conquer the world. Not some guy with career ambitions that could leave you breathless.

She banged her head back against the wall. But that was all part of Austin. All part of the guy who had stolen her heart. The guy she’d fallen in love with.

Dear Reader,

This year I had the joy and pleasure of taking my children to the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. I don’t know who was more excited—me or them.

I loved it. I loved everything about it. We even had the pleasure of meeting a real-life astronaut, Don Thomas, a veteran of four space flights and a man who has spent forty-four days in space. He was gracious, interesting, and he answered all my kids’ questions. How could I not write about a hero who was an astronaut?

There’s something spectacular about this kind of hero. It was great fun having him figure out if his heart lay in the stars or on earth.

My ambition for this book was to get the words ‘space baby’ in the title. I didn’t quite get my way. Maybe next time. I’m sure I have another astronaut hero I can use …

I love to hear from readers. Please feel free to contact me at scarlet-wilson.com.

Love,

Scarlet Wilson

SCARLET WILSON wrote her first story aged eight and has never stopped. She’s worked in the health service for twenty years, trained as a nurse and a health visitor. Scarlet now works in public health and lives on the West Coast of Scotland with her fiancé and their two sons. Writing medical romances and contemporary romances is a dream come true for her.

The Doctor’s Baby Secret

Scarlet Wilson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my good friend Frances Mason, my partner in crime, lunch buddy and one of the bravest women I know.

And to all those brave men and women who make that journey into the stars.

Praise for Scarlet Wilson

‘The book is filled with high-strung emotions, engaging dialogue, breathtaking descriptions and characters you just cannot help but love. With the magic of Christmas as a bonus, you won’t be disappointed with this story!’

—Goodreads on A Touch of Christmas Magic

‘200 Harley Street: Girl From the Red Carpet is a fast-paced and feel-good medical romance that sparkles with red-hot sensuality, mesmerising emotion and intense passion.’

—Goodreads

‘I am totally addicted to this author’s books. Not once have I picked up a book by her and felt disappointed or let down. She creates these intense, perfect characters with so many amazing levels of emotion it blows my mind time and time again.’

—Contemporary Romance Reviews on Tempted by Her Boss

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

Praise for Scarlet Wilson

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘HERE YOU GO, Dr Carter. Your successful candidates.’

Corrine’s heart gave a little flutter at the sight of the four buff folders in front of her. This was one of the best parts of her job. Of the thousands of applications received from a wide range of people—both civilian and military—only a few were chosen for the intensive Astronaut Candidate Programme. She smiled and fingered the folders on her desk. These applicants had gone through weeks of intensive interviews and medical and psychological screening. As part of the medical team at the Worldwide Science and Space Agency, Corrine had already met some of the successful candidates.

‘Where am I going, then?’

Every candidate got told in person if they’d been successful by a member of the team at WSSA. She’d been here three years and had been waiting for the chance to do this. The training programme only accepted applications every few years.

Her secretary handed her the schedule. ‘California, Washington, Idaho and Nevada.’

Her colleague Blair stuck his head around the door. ‘You got yours too?’ He was carrying his folders in his arms. ‘Who did you get?’ He crossed the office in two strides and spread the folders out to see the names.

Almost immediately he started laughing.

‘What? What is it?’ Corrine looked at the names in front of her. Three were familiar to her. One was a civilian school teacher. One a marine. One an engineer. Blair picked up the last folder before she even had a chance to read the name.

‘You got the Top Gun? Good luck with him.’

She snatched the folder back out of his hand. ‘The Top Gun?’ She stared at the name, Austin Mitchell. There were so many candidates there was no chance of meeting them all. She frowned. ‘What’s wrong with Austin Mitchell, then?’ She opened his folder and started flicking through the pages. Distinction. Merit. Top scores on just about all his testing. The guy seemed more or less perfect.

Blair shook his head and laughed again. ‘You’ll see.’

* * *

Austin checked his instruments one final time and gave a cheeky smile.

‘Bates, don’t you dare,’ came over the intercom.

His laughter had already started. Some traditions would never die. He was already descending for landing—he just wasn’t exactly over the landing strip he should be.

‘Bates, I’m warning you...’

The adrenaline was coursing through his body—just as it always did when he got behind the controls of a plane. But this wasn’t just any plane. This was a brand-new prototype of the F-35. A modified stealth bomber. People wouldn’t even hear it coming until it was directly overhead. Including his colleagues in the control tower.

He gave a final check of his instruments—he was the only aviator in the sky right now. The way was clear.

As he positioned the plane he glanced around the surrounding area. There was a reason the Top Gun aviators trained in the middle of the Nevada desert. No one to disturb.

There was a little speck on the landscape ahead. A member of the military personnel headed towards the tower. He hoped they were prepared.

He manoeuvred the F-35 into perfect position. ‘He’s doing it again, folks. Hold onto your coffee cups.’ There was a resigned sigh over the intercom.

‘Yee-haw!’ he yelled as he passed twenty feet above the tower. Buzzing the tower was one of the perks of the job. Maybe not for them—but definitely for him. And if his luck played out the way he hoped it would, this could be his last time.

* * *

She was halfway up the stairs when the noise wave hit. The plane had passed overhead in the blink of an eye. They didn’t call them stealth bombers for nothing. Her fingers tightened their grip on the rail just as the whole building rattled and the noise washed over her.

Did people still do that crazy stuff? Surely that was just for the movies?

The sand swirled around her, pulling her carefully styled bun out of its pins and sending stray tendrils across her eyes along with a choking mouthful of sand. She coughed and spluttered, then tried to brush some of the sand off her black knee-length skirt and jacket.

Ignoring the slight shake of her legs, she thumped up the rest of the stairs and keyed in her security code, throwing the door wide. ‘Who is that idiot?’ she yelled.

All heads in the room turned towards her. She gulped. Not exactly the best entrance in the world.

One of the controllers stood up and walked towards her. ‘And you are?’

It was clear she had security clearance or she wouldn’t be here. That didn’t mean that anyone would know who she was.

She covered her mouth, coughing again, and stared at his outstretched hand. She reached into her bag and pulled out some sanitiser, giving her hands a quick rub before she shook his hand. ‘Hi, I’m Dr Corrine Carter from the Worldwide Science and Space Agency. I’m looking for Austin Mitchell. I believe he’s one of the instructors.’ She gestured back towards the gate. ‘They sent me over here.’

There was the tiniest raise of his eyebrow, but he disguised it well. The guy gave a nod and a firm shake of her hand. ‘Luke Kennedy, Air Force Controller.’

The motion caused a sprinkling of sand to land on the carpet. She bit her bottom lip and took off her jacket, giving it another shake. Windswept and dishevelled wasn’t exactly the look she wanted when she told the candidate of his success. She held up her hand and shook her head. ‘What on earth was that about? Surely these guys are past all the cheap stunts?’

She looked around the office, trying to guess which one of the uniformed personnel was Austin—the guy who’d aced practically every test during the astronaut application procedures.

Her eyes were drawn to a plane landing on the adjacent runway. The plane that had nearly made her land on her butt in the corridor.

Luke Kennedy smiled. He followed her line of sight. ‘It’s kind of a tradition for the Top Gun instructors.’

‘Doesn’t it drive you crazy?’ She stared at a few tiny blotches of coffee on his shirt.

‘Oh, it drives me crazy all right.’ His accent was so thick it was almost a drawl. ‘You said you were looking for Bates? I mean, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell?’

She nodded, then frowned. ‘Bates? Why do you call him Bates?’ She glanced at the file in her hand. ‘That isn’t in his medical file.’

His smile reached from ear to ear. ‘It’s his call sign. I’ll let you find out for yourself why he’s called that.’ He pointed across the tarmac to the plane on the far side. ‘Well, I guess you found him. Give him a few minutes. He’ll take the plane back to the hangar.’

Corrine’s mouth fell open. ‘That’s him?’ She gestured towards the plane, which had safely landed and was slowly making its way back to the hangar.

Luke Kennedy turned back to his chair. ‘That’s him all right. Good luck.’

She bit her lip. That was the second person to wish her luck talking to Austin Mitchell. What was with this guy?

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

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.

He held out his hand towards her. ‘Let me expand it a little for you. Bates. Norman Bates.’

Corrine blinked and glanced from person to person around the table. Everyone else seemed to have caught on immediately. ‘What do you mean? That he’s crazy?’

The others started to laugh.

‘But that’s impossible. Our pilots undergo complete psychological evaluations. We can’t have anyone that’s a risk taker. That could compromise the mission.’

Adam shook his head. ‘Oh, he’s not crazy. But he’s made some of the gutsiest flight moves I’ve ever seen. That’s how he earned his call sign. And we need people that can make good decisions under pressure—even when it seems like the chips are down. If Austin Mitchell makes it to the space station I think he’ll be a great asset to our programme.’ He raised his glass. ‘I’d even take bets on him making it.’

Marcia shook her head. ‘I’m not taking that bet. He’s too good.’

Frank shook his head too. ‘Me either. I know a shoo-in when I see one.’

Corrine started to get annoyed. Everyone seemed to think this guy was great. They hadn’t seen the gleam of arrogance in his eyes. The one that had prickled her senses in all the wrong places. There were some catcalls from the other side of the bar. A little tremor danced down her spine but there was no way she was turning around.

‘Uh-oh.’ Marcia smiled as she pushed her glass around the table. ‘It looks like Superboy is on his way over.’

She couldn’t help it. Corrine turned towards the bar. Austin Mitchell was walking straight towards them. No. Straight towards her. His eyes locked with hers. That darn white uniform showed off the width of his shoulders and chest. The gold on his epaulettes gleamed at her. But the thing that freaked her out most was the confident grin on his face.

He held out his hand towards her as he gave a brief nod to the others at the table. ‘Dr Carter. Would you like to dance?’

Her mouth almost fell open. It was right up there with things least likely to expect.

She almost choked. ‘What?’ She could hear a stifled snigger behind her.

She looked around the bar. The music was audible, but low—and there was no dance floor. It just wasn’t that kind of place.

His bright blue eyes were fixed on hers. She hadn’t been able to see them properly in the dark hangar. Which was probably just as well, because right now she was getting the full hypnotic effect. The artificial lights in the bar seemed perfect for showing them at their best.

‘Dance,’ he said calmly, as if she’d misunderstood.

There was a nudge at her back. Frank was almost willing her to go. But the nudge lit a little flare inside her. How dared he? How dared he approach her so directly in front of all her colleagues—his instructors—and practically ask her out? Didn’t the guy have any decorum?

‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I don’t want to dance.’ She couldn’t hide the disdain in her voice. The coil inside was tightening. She’d wanted to relax tonight—not put herself in an uncomfortable position.

Her earlier comment about him not being a boy had already been misinterpreted by her colleagues. Now, they might actually think something was going on. That was the last thing she needed. She’d only been at WSSA for a few years. This was her first astronaut candidate selection. Her position and job meant everything to her. She’d put her life on hold for it. She didn’t want anything to interfere.

Austin was still standing smiling at her. It was almost as if he hadn’t heard her say no.

She stood up quickly and tugged at her skirt, pulling it back into position. She gave him a sharp stare. ‘That would be a no, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell. Now, if you’d excuse me, myself and your other instructors need to have conversations that you can’t be party to.’

She gave him a nod as she brushed past. It was important that he respect her position on the team. It was important that he realised she wouldn’t be compromised. No matter how good he looked in that uniform. She could see all the expectant faces of the rest of the candidates in the background. They were watching with interest. Waiting to see what she would do. Did any of them actually think she might say yes?

The hairs on his arms came into contact with her skin. Ignore it. Her brain repeated the message as she walked towards the ladies’ room. Her skin was on fire. A thousand little caterpillars were currently marching across that tiny patch of skin. She couldn’t help it—her other hand automatically reached across and rubbed it as she banged the ladies’ room door open with her hip.

Cold water. That was what she needed right now. Anything that would stop the persistent fire caused by Austin Mitchell from circulating around her body.

* * *

There was a whoop behind him as Corrine brushed past him as if he didn’t exist. He’d seen it. That little flicker in her eyes. It wasn’t panic. She wasn’t the type. The disbelief he’d almost expected, but hesitation he hadn’t. Was there the tiniest chance she might have said yes?

He shrugged and gave a rueful smile to the other instructors. Adam winked. He knew exactly what was going on. Traditions didn’t just exist amongst Top Gun pilots—WSSA candidates had a whole book of their own.

Frank stood up. ‘Excuse me, folks. Back in a bit.’ His face looked a bit pinched.

Austin watched him head to the gents’. Was he annoyed with him? He moved back and put a twenty on the bar. ‘Get another round,’ he said to Michael.

Michael lifted the twenty and waved to the bartender. ‘Crashed and burned.’ He laughed at Austin. ‘Get used to it. Corrine Carter looked mad.’

Austin stared at the swinging door of the gents’. It was weird. His parents used to tease him as a kid—they’d told him that his spider sense was tingling whenever he’d had an instinct about things. They’d learned quickly he was always right—even when everything seemed fine. It had served him well on his tours of duty and on his test flights. Knowing when something just wasn’t quite right with a plane or mission had saved him on more than one occasion.

And tonight his spider sense was busy creating a full-on web.

He strode towards the gents’. What was the worst that could happen? Frank would tear a few strips off him for his stunt. He was a big boy. He could take it easily.

The door swung open. Frank hadn’t even made it to a cubicle. His hand was leaning on the wall above one of the urinals. Austin quickly averted his eyes—last thing he needed to do was watch another man take a leak.

But his instincts were on overtime. Darn it. He looked again. Frank hadn’t even managed to unzip his trousers. His other hand was resting on his chest.

‘Frank? You okay?’

He made it just in time. The guy’s legs crumpled beneath him and Austin caught him as he made a slow descent to the floor. Frank was no lightweight—he must have been around twenty stone—but Austin could handle it.

He eased him onto the floor and laid him on his back. Hell. What next?

He didn’t have any advanced medical training, just the basic navy first-aid course.

Part of the WSSA training would be about emergency medical situations like this—it seemed he was starting early.

Frank’s colour was terrible, a mixture of translucent and grey, with a slight blue tinge around his lips. Austin bent his head to Frank’s chest, listening and watching for any rise and fall. He pressed his fingers to Frank’s carotid pulse. Nothing. He moved them. Maybe he wasn’t in the right place?

‘I need some help in here,’ he yelled.

He tipped Frank’s head back and steeled himself. Mouth-to-mouth with a guy. Just as well he didn’t have time to think about this. He pinched his nose and covered Frank’s mouth with his, breathing out once and then twice.

The door banged open to his side. He didn’t even look up.

‘What the...?’ Corrine’s voice tailed off immediately.

He could almost see the instant recognition in her eyes and the work-mode focus coming into play. ‘Ambulance, now,’ she shouted over her shoulder before crossing the floor in a few long strides.

She didn’t miss a beat, just hitched up her skirt—giving him a generous shot of thigh—and knelt down beside him. It took her only a few seconds to do her own assessment. Her eyes met his. ‘Right, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell, let’s see how good you are.’

* * *

Her heart was thudding against her chest. When she’d heard the call for help she’d moved immediately—even though she hadn’t recognised the voice.

It had a taken a couple of seconds to comprehend the sight of Austin leaning over Frank and kissing him before her medical senses had taken hold.

Frank looked awful. Why hadn’t she noticed anything earlier? Why hadn’t he told her he felt unwell?

Everything was automatic from that point onwards. Airway clear, breathing absent, circulation absent. She pushed aside everything personal. She loved Frank. He was one of the kindest, nicest guys she’d ever worked with. It would be so easy to be emotional. But she couldn’t let herself be. She always had to put a wall between herself and the patient she was treating—it couldn’t be personal. Not in any way at all.

As for Lieutenant Commander Mitchell? She needed a partner in crime right now. And it seemed it would have to be him. None of the other medical staff were here. She was Frank’s best chance and that was all she could focus on.

She positioned herself above the chest, kneeling on the hard floor and crossing her hands one over the other on Frank’s chest. She couldn’t even count how many times she’d done this before.

What she really needed was an oxygen supply, IV access, a defibrillator, cardiac monitoring and a whole host of emergency drugs. What she had was herself and Austin Mitchell. And just how much use could a guy be whose call sign was Bates?

‘We’re going to do thirty to two.’

He blinked and she recognised his confusion.

She started compressions, counting out loud while recognition dawned on Austin’s face. This was as up close and personal as they’d got. His face was only a few inches from hers, positioned opposite and above Frank’s face. There were a few tiny lines around the corners of his eyes. A shadow along his jaw line and dark lashes around his blue eyes.

On an ordinary day the features of Austin Mitchell would be a lot to admire. Today, she couldn’t allow them to distract her.

She got to thirty and stopped for a second. The door swung open as Austin bent automatically to do the two breaths. She had no idea if he had any first-aid experience. But he tilted the head back to the right angle, pinched Frank’s nose and covered Frank’s mouth with his and breathed out at a steady rate.

‘Oh, Frank. No.’ Marcia’s voice was both shocked and scared. Corrine started compressions again, counting in her head. ‘Ask if they’ve got an AED,’ she said automatically. ‘A defib,’ she added.

‘Right.’ Marcia disappeared out of the door only to be replaced by Adam and Blair.

She started counting out loud to prepare Austin for his next stint. ‘Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.’ She sat back for a second and took a deep breath.

‘Someone find out how long the ambulance will be,’ she directed as Austin finished the breaths and sat back. She started counting out loud again. It didn’t matter that in theory she knew the person doing the compressions should change every two minutes. There was no way she’d let someone who’d never done this before take over from her. Getting the compressions right was important.

‘No defib.’ Marcia’s pale face appeared in the doorway again. Blair put his arm around her shoulder automatically. Adam gave a little shake of his head. ‘I’ll wait outside for the ambulance.’

‘Six minutes,’ came the shout from outside.

Six minutes. She could do that. She was being methodical. Pushing everything else from her brain. This was Frank. The guy with years of experience at WSSA and the most self-deprecating humour. He could find something to joke about even on the darkest of days. But most of all he listened. He’d welcomed her as a new instructor. Shown her all the ropes. Explained the systems, procedures and protocols that could be mind-boggling and sent her in the right direction when things had seemed like a puzzled map of tunnels.

He lived and breathed WSSA. Had done for years. His wife had died of cancer a few years ago and, although he spent his holidays with his grown-up daughter, he was first at work in the morning and last away at night.

There was no way she was going to have to make that I’m so sorry call to his daughter, Lucy.

She was praying for a coronary—even a massive one with a clot could be dealt with by an angioplasty and stented if necessary. A pulmonary embolism would—at this stage—have probably caused fatal damage. A stroke could be similar.

The muscles in her arms started to burn a little. It was nothing. She could handle it. A warm hand reached over hers as she counted out loud. ‘Want to swap?’

It was probably only a millisecond. But it seemed like so much more. It was the first time she’d recognised sincerity in Austin Mitchell’s gaze. On every other occasion his confidence had almost seemed to mock her. But this time it was different. This time she saw a glimmer of the man he actually was instead of the person he showed the world.

His gaze seemed to drift downwards, then he gave his head a little shake and met her eyes again.

She glanced down. It was clear from his position that he had a prime-time view straight down the front of her shirt to her cleavage. At least he’d had the decency to avert his eyes. Austin Mitchell wasn’t all face and bravado.

‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly. ‘Just keep going.’

And he did. They worked in unison for the next few minutes. She could hear the voices outside. The other candidates had realised that something was wrong but Blair stood across the doorway and none would dare argue with him. They didn’t need to see Frank like this.

Every compression hurt her arms and made her shoulders ache. But she didn’t care. She was trying not to let the statistics she knew about MI circulate around her brain. Defibrillation was the best bet. Every minute it was delayed reduced Frank’s chances.

There was a shout outside and Adam ran in with the paramedics behind him. He must have filled them in on who she was because they didn’t bombard her with a series of questions. One immediately pulled out the pads for the defibrillator and the other opened the carton of drugs. She ripped open Frank’s shirt and let the paramedic place the pads, watching the monitor and praying for a shockable rhythm.

Someone was listening. VF. Ventricular fibrillation. The automated response from the machine filled the air. ‘Stand clear, shocking.’

She reached for the IV kit, her eyes not leaving the monitor. Frank’s body jerked in response to the shock. The thin green line reappeared, squiggly with no discernible pattern.

‘Stand clear, shocking,’ the machine said again. The room was silent. Frank’s body jerked once again and this time the line was different. It took a few seconds to appear, but this time it was a slow sinus rhythm.

Corrine didn’t stop to think. She turned Frank’s arm over and quickly inserted a cannula for venous access. They’d need it if he arrested again.

Everything moved like clockwork. Austin sat back, allowing the other paramedic to check the airway and slip an oxygen mask in place as they positioned Frank onto the stretcher.

There was no end of volunteers to help take the stretcher out to the waiting ambulance and Corrine gave one of the paramedics a nod. ‘I’ll be coming with you.’

He acknowledged her as they lifted Frank into the back of the ambulance. Marcia came over and grabbed her arm. ‘Call me as soon as you get there. Adam’s already contacting Frank’s daughter. We’ll let you know when we get her.’

Something prickled at the back of her spine. She looked at the crowded, anxious faces staring into the back of the ambulance. One was missing.

‘Give me a sec,’ she shouted to the paramedic as he hooked Frank up to their equipment.

She pushed her way through the crowd. Austin wasn’t anywhere in sight.

It only took a few steps to reach the gents’ again. He was standing quietly, staring at the floor where Frank had lain and rubbing his hands together. She recognised that look.

She’d seen it numerous times throughout her career. Whether it was a student doctor, a new nurse or even an old-timer exposed to a situation they weren’t used to.

She just hadn’t expected it from Mr Confidence.

She walked over quickly and stood right under his nose, reaching over and touching his arm. ‘Austin?’

He blinked and stepped back. He hadn’t even realised she’d entered.

She squeezed his arm. ‘You did good. Thanks for your help.’ It was all she had time for. She had to leave right now. But her knowledge and experience meant she’d never leave a team member without acknowledging their part.

His blue eyes met hers. Zing. It was like a little thunderbolt. ‘Any time,’ he murmured quietly as his gaze drifted down to the floor.

Her stomach flip-flopped. Frank was her priority. Frank was all that mattered right now. She nodded and ran back to the door.

Everything else would have to wait.

CHAPTER THREE

AUSTIN GLANCED AROUND the room. He’d met all the other candidates as they’d arrived over the last two days, but this morning was their first official training day. The room was awash with the signature bright blue flight suits. He’d felt a real surge of pride this morning as he’d put it on.

He’d worked hard for this. Focused hard to finally get to wear the uniform he’d always wanted. He’d snapped a quick pic to send to his mum and dad. That had been around fifteen minutes ago—by now, his mother would have printed out twenty copies to give to all her friends.

All the instructors were standing in front of them. Everyone in the room knew Frank was missing. He’d found a handwritten note from Corrine in his mailbox this morning saying Frank was doing as well as could be expected. His hand slipped into his pocket and he touched the piece of paper. She’d used a purple pen. It had made him smile. Kind of quirky.

Corrine looked tired this morning. She had dark circles under her eyes and he wondered if she’d stayed at the hospital all night with Frank. She was wearing her obligatory dark suit and a pale pink shirt. And because he was sitting in the front row the scent of her perfume was drifting towards him. It was light, but not quite floral, something more vanilla. The kind of scent that made you think something was good enough to eat.

Adam Bailey cleared his throat. ‘Guys, I’ve been where you are. I know how proud you all feel right now and I want you to know that we recognise your achievement of being selected. There were over six thousand applications for the Astronaut Candidate Programme this time around. It’s not an easy process to go through—we all appreciate that. But the time for celebration is over.’

He pressed his finger down on the desk in front of him. ‘Now is the time for hard work.’ He looked around the room. ‘Your Astronaut Candidate Training will include scientific and technical briefings, intensive instruction in International Space Station systems, Extravehicular Activity—EVA—robotics, physiological training, T-38 flight training, water and wilderness survival training and medical training. If you can’t already do it—you’ll have to learn to speak Russian. And your training will be in a variety of settings. You’ll be in Kazakhstan and in Russia. You’ll be in the Aquarius research station in Key Largo. You’ll be in the desert. You’ll be in the jungle. And you’ll log more hours in the neutral buoyancy lab than you’ll want to.’

He turned towards Corrine and the rest of her team. ‘You’ll already know which doctor has been allocated to you to work with you through your training. These people will get to know you better than you currently know yourself. Use them. Work with them.’ He turned back to the candidates. ‘While I’d love it if you all ended up in space, the simple fact is that some of you won’t. Medical issues can crop up. Life can get in the way. Your focus and commitment is essential to your success in this programme. I expect you all to do your utmost to fulfil your dreams.’

The person next to Austin started clapping. There were a few seconds of awkward silence before others joined in. The surge of pride went through him as he looked around. God willing, in a couple of years’ time he could be spending a few months in space with these people.

The ultimate goal.

He looked along the line of instructors. Three of them had been astronauts. Some were doctors. And others were experts in the types of technology they’d use aboard the space station. Every one of them had something to teach him.

So why did his eyes keep going back to the tired blonde on the platform?

CHAPTER FOUR

CORRINE SMILED AS she stood at the side of the training pool. She liked early mornings. It was her favourite time. Sipping her coffee as she watched the sunrise was always her favourite part of the day.

There was something so calming about watching the smudges of orange and yellow emerge from the distance. She lived only a few miles from the base in an old clapboard-style house with its own front porch. She’d even managed to find an old rocker for her porch and drank her coffee there every morning. It grounded her. The last eight years had been hard—all driving towards her goal of working at WSSA. Once qualified she’d worked as an emergency medicine specialist for a few years before studying Aerospace Medicine at Dayton, Ohio for two years. There had been no time for fun, no time for relationships and no time for socialising.

At least that was what she told anyone who asked. It seemed simpler.

She didn’t want pity. Her first experience had been with a guy much older who had treated her badly. She’d learned quickly—the hard way. She’d escaped with a promptly placed bottle to the back of his skull and vowed never to let herself seem vulnerable again. A few years of self-defence classes had taught her everything she needed to know. Everything had to be on her terms. And every relationship after that had been. Trouble was, most guys didn’t like that. And she’d never let herself get truly emotionally involved with any of them.

Now, she had the job of her dreams and the mortgage on a house to match. Who needed a guy? All she needed was a dog.

She folded her arms across her chest as she watched the candidates being briefed at the side of the pool. All candidates were required to complete military water survival before beginning their flying syllabus. They also had to become SCUBA qualified to prepare them for spacewalk training. It was surprising how many of the trainees didn’t realise a large percentage of astronaut training was carried out in water. Apart from the fact that they could land in water after their descent back to earth, working in water, timing their missions to coincide with oxygen supplies and learning about buoyancy were all crucial parts of the training.

This morning’s session was relatively simple. One of the other instructors was briefing them. She was only there to look after anyone that got into difficulties.

‘You’ll be required to swim three lengths of the twenty-five-metre pool without stopping, then swim three lengths dressed in your flight suit and tennis shoes. There’s no time limit but once you’ve completed that you’re required to tread water continuously for ten minutes wearing your flight suit.’

She saw the anxious glances. This test was pretty well known amongst the candidates—she’d be surprised if any of them hadn’t made special arrangements to practise in advance.

The instructor blew his whistle. Almost instantly all the candidates disappeared into the water. Some dives were better than others. Nearly all started in a fast crawl. It didn’t really surprise her that Austin Mitchell was right out there in front. Two others favoured the breaststroke. Austin’s fellow candidate, Michael, matched him stroke for stroke.

She smiled at the competitive edge. It was good. It kept them motivated and on point. They turned in unison and headed back down the pool.

She tried not to stare. A quick glance around told her no one was watching. It was too easy to see the defined muscles in his back and shoulders. The guy had to spend all his spare time in the gym. Which was good. He would need a defined programme for going to space. And it would be her that would design it for him. It was important that all astronaut candidates were at their peak of physical fitness before they left earth.

Space played havoc with the human body. Astronauts suffered from decreased immunity in space, vision changes, where the fine structures of the eye could be affected by the fluid changes in space, a decrease in bone density and a higher ratio of muscle wastage.

She was a doctor. She was employed to assess their physical fitness. So, why had standing at the side of the pool and watching Austin Mitchell walk from the changing rooms made her feel like some kind of voyeur?

He had the kind of sculpted stomach muscles that most men spent their life dreaming of. Did the guy even eat carbs? She’d need to check his diet with him.

Thank goodness he hadn’t been wearing Speedos. The shorts were bad enough.

There was a shout next to her as Austin and Michael emerged from the pool together. The water made his shorts cling to the tight muscles on his thighs and his backside. As he scrambled into his flight suit he glanced over his shoulder directly towards her.

Caught. Well and truly caught. The tiniest flicker of a smile hinted at his lips as he shoved his wet feet into the tennis shoes. The grin had reached from ear to ear before he dived straight back in.

She blew out a breath as the heat rushed into her cheeks. Darn it!

Her eyes swept the pool, checking on all the other candidates. Everyone seemed fine. Speed wasn’t really the issue—even though no one had told those two guys. Completion was the issue. Another instructor was logging times on a tablet near the edge of the pool.

The heat wasn’t abating. She fixed her eyes on another few candidates pulling themselves out of the pool and into their flight suits. She was the doctor. She was supposed to be looking at their bodies. She was supposed to be monitoring them for any difficulties. So why did she feel like a teenage girl caught spying on her hunky next-door neighbour?

She walked over to Bill, who was marking times on the tablet. ‘Quickest time ever—so far,’ he muttered under his breath.

She should be happy that the candidates were performing so well. But because it was Austin Mitchell with his cheeky grin and pert bum it just annoyed her. He and Michael were currently powering up the length of the pool as if they were dressed in just their swimmers. The flight suits and tennis shoes didn’t seem to be causing them any problems at all.

‘Let’s see how good they really are,’ she said quietly. She stepped a little closer to the edge of the pool just as Austin completed his third length one second ahead of Michael and punched the air.

They turned and swam away from the edge, ready to start their ten minutes of treading water. It had been a long time since Corrine had done anything like this. She’d had to tread water in pyjamas for a certificate in high school. Even now she could remember how heavy her legs had felt by the end.

Austin swam straight in front of her, his bright blue eyes reflected back from his blue suit and the surrounding water. With his tan and straight white teeth the guy should be in toothpaste commercials.

Why was it that everything about him drove her crazy?

He was just too much of a know-it-all by half. She glanced at Bill and shot him a conspiratorial smile. ‘You know, Bill, I’ve been thinking. Treading water is fine, but men aren’t always renowned for their multitasking skills—a vital component for an astronaut. I think we should add some brain strain into this assessment.’

Bill laughed. ‘Someone annoyed you today, Dr Carter? Or did they only give you one shot in your coffee this morning?’

Michael and Austin were both treading water in front of her. The guys looked as if they were taking a walk in the park. The flight suits and shoes weren’t hampering them at all.

She gave Bill a nod. ‘Let’s see if these guys can work their muscles and their brains.’

She turned to face the pool again. ‘I know you started reading your mountain’s worth of training manuals. Let’s see how much you’ve taken in.’

Michael shot Austin a look of panic. They’d only been here a few days and the training manuals would take around a year to master.

Austin’s eyes hadn’t moved from hers. This guy rarely seemed rattled.

‘Tell me about the primary robotics system used on the ISS.’

It was a shot in the dark. The majority of her work was purely clinical with a dash of research thrown in. She knew the basics of the other systems but not the details. That was their job, not hers. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t keep them on their toes.

‘We use the mobile servicing system. The Canadarm2. There’s a new one currently in development.’ That rich drawl sent an involuntary tremor down her spine—one she pointedly ignored. Austin was still treading away. There was a glimmer of something in his eyes. He knew he was annoying her. It was almost as if it was deliberate. Like a tiny bug getting under her skin.

‘Tell me about the maintenance required on ISS.’

‘We’ll need much longer than ten minutes,’ quipped Austin. ‘Have you got all night?’

She pressed her lips together. There was no way she was going to blush again. No way at all.

Michael was concentrating too hard to notice the flirtation right in front of him. ‘Inside or out?’ he asked. ‘And what system do you want to start with?’

She nodded towards him, pretending not to hear Bill laughing under his breath. ‘Life support systems,’ she said quickly.

Austin cut in. ‘The environmental control and life support system takes care of atmospheric pressure, fire detection and suppression, oxygen levels, waste management and water supply.’

‘And if your oxygen supply fails?’

‘There’s back-up in the solid fuel oxygen generation canisters. One canister can last a day.’

A few other candidates swam up next to them and started treading water. Austin glanced around and then back to Corrine; his cheeky grin seemed a permanent feature on his face this morning. ‘What? You’re not going to ask the rest questions too?’

It was a direct barb. He knew she’d been quizzing him because he’d annoyed her. Now she would look unprofessional if she didn’t subject the rest of the candidates to the same questions.

Bill threw her a sympathetic glance. ‘Let’s talk about the different modules.’

She breathed a sigh of relief. There were numerous modules, some pressurised, some not. This could take up valuable time.

She gave him a grateful smile and walked over, watching as he input some data on the tablet. Nearly all the candidates had completed their swim.

Everyone looked good. Some looked better than others. This was typical in a class. Her job was to try and ensure that everyone would be in their peak medical condition by the end of their training. She only had four candidates to design fitness programmes for. That would be her next task. How would Austin Mitchell take to being told what he could and couldn’t do?

She bit her lip as her stomach gave a low grumble. Maybe she was being a little cranky. Coffee was distinctly on her mind, anything to cut out the smell from the swimming pool, which would linger in her hair for the rest of the day. She was having strange cravings for a calorie-laden banana loaf. If she was lucky—there would be none in the canteen today. As soon as she got a whiff of one, she’d be sunk, in more ways than one.

‘Time!’ Bill’s voice cut through her thoughts and Austin and Michael high-fived each other in the water then swam to the side.

He could have got out of the pool anywhere. But no. Austin Mitchell, complete with flight suit and dorky tennis shoes, swam directly underneath her and pulled himself out right under her nose. Water streamed from him, running off the bright blue flight suit and pooling next to her shoes.

She should have chosen her footwear more carefully. This was one of her favourite pairs.

‘How’d I do?’ That drawl again. Right up close and personal. What was it about that voice? She’d worked with lots of guys from all over the States and a whole host of international guests. Some women loved Italian accents, some Irish. A few women around here had definite preferences for the Russian accent. One of her colleagues was in a long-distance relationship with a cosmonaut. She’d lived in California as a child where accents weren’t as noticeable. But Austin’s Texas drawl seemed to send a zing around her whole body, connecting with each tiny nerve and catapulting it into overtime.

She licked her lips and kept her voice steady. ‘I think you were pretty average.’

He raised one eyebrow. That darn smirk. It was almost as if he saved it for her especially because he knew it would make her crazy. ‘Average? I’m average?’

Oh, good. She’d hit a nerve. She liked that. Mr Top Gun was probably too used to being the best at everything. She’d hate it if he lost his competitive edge.

She waved her hand as she tried to keep the teasing tone from her voice. But it was so hard. ‘We all have different talents, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell. Maybe we’ve yet to discover yours.’

She walked away, still keeping her eyes on the rest of the candidates in the pool. She couldn’t leave until they were all officially finished. Now she was happy she’d worn her favourite heels. She could almost feel his eyes fixated on her swinging hips as she crossed over towards one of the other instructors.

Having a bad experience in the past hadn’t made her immune to flirtations or charms. She enjoyed them. She enjoyed meeting men who were happy to see her as an equal partner instead of a conquest. The twinkle in Austin’s eyes gave her more than a little buzz.

Blair looked up from his monitor. ‘You two are going to drive each other crazy,’ he said quietly. ‘This is going to be fun to watch.’

She straightened her back. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Blair stared at her. ‘Ever thought about applying for the programme yourself? Fancy some time up in space?’ He shook his head as he turned the monitor towards her. ‘You and him in a confined space for three to six months.’ He laughed and blew into his fingertips. ‘Boom!’

She leaned forward to look at the results that had been shared from Bill’s tablet. ‘There’s absolutely nothing in it. He’s just a new guy trying his luck. They’re all overconfident to start with. He’ll settle down.’ Too bad she didn’t believe a single word she’d just said. ‘As for space—no way. I’m keeping my feet fixed firmly to the ground. They don’t sell Girl Scout cookies in space.’

Blair shook his head again. ‘If you say so, Corrine. I’m not the expert in chemistry. I’m just the payload specialist. But when you two are in the same room...’ His voice tailed off.

‘What?’ She couldn’t help the edge in her voice. It was bad enough trying to ignore the buzz in her body whenever he was around. The last thing she wanted was for anyone else to notice it too.

Blair gave her a huge grin. ‘Let’s just say it’s best not to have combustible materials in space.’ He pointed to the stats. ‘And it looks like this guy isn’t going to be flunking out.’

She sighed and folded her arms across her chest. Austin had aced it. Not only that—his was the fastest time of any candidate ever. Great. Once he knew that, he’d be even more unbearable. Blair gave a little shrug. ‘My guess is he’s in it for the long haul.’

She looked over at the pool. The rest of the candidates were just emerging from the water—their ten minutes of treading water over. Her stomach flip-flopped. They were right at the start of the process. How many of them would actually make it into space?

‘They’re all in it for the long haul,’ she said quietly. She reached over and pressed a hand on Blair’s shoulder. ‘I’ll see you later. The benefits of being a doctor mean I’ve got special permission to see Frank.’

‘Tell him I’ll visit tomorrow.’

She nodded. ‘I will.’ She had one last glance across the pool. All the candidates were now stripping out of their flight suits. She hated the fact that her eyes were drawn to one body.

She could tell even from here he was still mad. His jaw was set and he was barely making eye contact with the rest of his colleagues. For all his bravado it seemed that Austin Mitchell ran a little deeper than she’d first suspected. It didn’t matter that he and Michael had finished first out of his group of candidates. He’d no idea how previous candidates might have performed and it was obviously playing on his mind.

She couldn’t prevent a small smile from playing around her mouth. Finally, she knew which buttons to press with Austin Mitchell.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.