He felt an uncharacteristic eagerness to be close to her

She smelled so good. And her body felt so delicate in his arms.

Instead of crushing her lips and plundering her mouth as he wanted, he forced his lips to trail down her jaw to the safer territory of her smooth brown neck.

Only now he was immersed in her scent, and it clouded his already hazy mind. He couldn’t resist the urge to lick the indent at the base of her neck, and it immediately constricted with her gasp of pleasure.

Her hands dipped to the small of his back just above the waistband of his jeans. Taking that as encouragement, he let his hips rock against hers, knowing she’d feel the full extent of his excitement.

Leaning into him, Shelly raised her lips to his once again. Finally, she seemed to have let go of her inhibitions and was taking the lead.

MILLS & BOON

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ROBYN AMOS

worked a multitude of day jobs while pursuing a career in writing after graduating from college with a degree in psychology. Then she married her real-life romantic hero, a genuine rocket scientist and she was finally able to live her dream of writing full-time. Since her first book was published in 1997, Robyn has written tales of romantic comedy and suspense for several publishers, including Harlequin Books, Kensington Books and HarperCollins. A native of the Washington, D.C., metropolitan area, Robyn currently resides in Odenton, Maryland.

Cosmic Rendezvous
Robyn Amos

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is for Gretchen England. Thanks for letting

me steal pieces of your life for this book.

Remember me when you get into space one day!

Dear Reader,

My husband is an aerospace engineer, and therefore, so are many of our friends. I got the idea for Cosmic Rendezvous when one of those friends announced that she was moving to Houston to train astronauts on a new vehicle that will soon replace the space shuttle. A bunch of us were sitting around a table playing Texas Hold ’Em and joking that my friend would move to Texas and marry a cowboy. But not just any cowboy…a space cowboy. That’s when Lincoln “Lightning” Ripley was born—Mr. Right Stuff himself.

I had a great time researching this book because my husband took a real interest in helping me with the technical aspects. We visited Houston with the double mission of catching up with my friend and touring Johnson Space Center. We dined in a pub where astronauts go to hang out and viewed the underwater lab where they simulate a weightless environment. I also learned that the Houston humidity is hard on a woman’s hair. Hopefully I was able to bring all of those experiences to life in this book.

Shelly and Linc have a tough road to travel to find their happy ending. But in Cosmic Rendezvous, they eventually discover that no amount of stubbornness, stress or catastrophes can stand in the path of true love.

I love to hear from readers. E-mail me at robynamos@aol.com or visit me on the Web at www.robynamos.com.

Happy reading,

Robyn Amos

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Shelly London shifted her stare from the blinking error message on her monitor to the window and back again. She was tempted to hoist her computer through the glass and jump out after it.

Moving to Houston to train astronauts on an experimental spacecraft for NASA wasn’t nearly as cool as it had originally seemed.

She’d felt as though she’d been caught up in a tornado from the minute she’d stepped off the plane from Washington, D.C. Between setting up her new home and overseeing the final design and production of the spacecraft, she’d barely had a moment to herself.

And there certainly hadn’t been time to find a decent hairdresser, she thought, patting her gel-slicked topknot. Houston’s humidity had gotten the best of her, and it had been one bad-hair day after another.

She knew her life would never resemble a rerun of Sex and the City. Expensive clothes and shoes, fabulous parties with beautiful people and an endless string of handsome men weren’t her destiny.

But at least back in D.C., she’d been stylish and put together, making the most of her cute potential. She’d had a social life, with girlfriends and dates when she’d wanted them, and close family ties with her mother and sister. Shelly knew it would take some time to build a life here in Houston, but it was slower going than she’d expected.

Still living out of boxes, she was lucky to put together a shirt and pants that matched. This made it easy to fall into the collegelike culture of her fellow aerospace geeks. Rolling out of bed for shift work, she dressed in blue jeans and old T-shirts, and ate whatever fast food was available.

She was close with those on her engineering team—most of whom she’d brought with her from D.C.—and knew the affable group of guys couldn’t care less how she looked. But just once since she’d moved to Houston, she’d like to have a good-hair day.

Yesterday, out of a desperate need for a touch-up, she’d pulled off the highway and walked into a hair salon. She’d figured that with the name Lady of Color, she had a fighting chance of getting a stylist who could straighten her frizzled mess. She’d been right about one thing. The salon did specialize in African-American hair. Unfortunately, it didn’t specialize in doing it well.

Shelly’s hair had been bone straight when she left the salon yesterday, but that had lasted only until she walked through the thick, souplike humidity to her car this morning. By the time she’d driven to her office—with the windows down, because the air conditioner was broken—she’d looked like a wet poodle.

After two months and two containers of hair gel, Shelly had been looking forward to sporting something other than a bun or an unruly ponytail. No such luck. Thanks to the emergency gel she’d retrieved from the trunk of her car and the wide rubber band from her desk drawer, she was back to her perpetual bad-hair-day look.

In fact, it was looking as if it was going to be a bad day all the way around. In the dark monitor of her computer, which she was rebooting for the third time, she saw the reflection of a thunderstorm headed her way. Actually, it was Lightning. Lightning Ripley.

But she refused to use Lincoln Ripley’s self-indulgent nickname out loud. Shelly didn’t care how many engineers on her team suffered from hero worship. Or how often she heard women in the ladies’ room drooling over his chiseled features and rock-hard muscles. Shelly was convinced Ripley’s reputation was all hype.

By her estimation, he was a cocky, overconfident hotshot, channeling Will Smith in Independence Day. Ripley thought he was a hero destined to become a legend, and Shelly didn’t want any part of it.

Guardian Rescue Mission, or GRM, was her baby. Draco, the spacecraft, was her design. And she wasn’t going to let some ego-driven astronaut ruin the very thing her entire career and reputation were riding on.

Spinning around in her chair to face him, Shelly braced herself. She knew exactly what was coming. And it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Lincoln Ripley felt anger radiating from his body like invisible waves of heat. He stalked up to Shelly London, fully intending to spin her chair to face him, but she stole his thunder when she turned to him on her own.

She stopped him short with the look of challenge in her dark eyes. He knew right then that she was going to be trouble. He wished for some way to wipe that smug expression off her face.

“Who the hell do you think you are? You don’t have the authority to get me pulled off this mission.” At the sound of his voice echoing through the quiet room, three heads popped up in alarm. The rest of the team was watching the scene with rapt attention, but Linc didn’t care.

Shelly stared up at him without blinking. Her cold gaze sent a shiver down his spine. “You haven’t been pulled from the mission. So, what’s the problem?”

Linc blinked. Was she kidding? That morning she’d issued a request to the mission director for his reassignment. “The problem is that you tried to get me kicked off.”

“Relax, Ripley. This isn’t Survivor. You can’t be voted off, as you well know. I simply inquired as to whether you were the best choice for lead astronaut on this mission.”

Her indifference ramped up his anger another notch. “You question whether or not I’m the best choice? Don’t you know who I am?”

His stomach muscles were clenched. Linc was used to maintaining his composure, especially with women. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reacted this strongly to one.

More infuriating was that her cool smile never changed. “Sure. You’re a lieutenant colonel in the United States Air Force.”

Linc ground his teeth together. She was being deliberately obtuse. “And…”

She gave an unladylike snort. “Oh, you want to know if I saw you on the covers of Time, Newsweek and People. Yes, I’m well aware of your reputation,” she said irreverently. “But piloting a space shuttle has nothing to do with flying Draco. And I’m only interested in training astronauts who are focused on this mission rather than their own achievements.”

Linc suppressed a curse. His achievements had won him an Airman’s Medal. His body had now grown so hot, it was only a matter of time before steam poured from his ears.

“I can’t believe your nerve—”

“There seems to be plenty of nerve to go around, because you had the nerve to miss my briefing yesterday.”

Linc pounded the desk with his fist. “Is that what this is about? Missing one lousy meeting?”

Her back straightened, and for the first time, Linc spotted a crack in her composure. “No, this isn’t about one lousy meeting. I didn’t see you in the Mojave Desert when Draco was unveiled four months ago, and you didn’t show up for the first round of flight testing, either.”

His gut clenched. He’d missed those dates because he’d been flying a covert rescue mission out of Iraq. But he couldn’t discuss that with a civilian. He had no choice but to take the hit to his reputation. “It was my understanding that those exercises were optional.”

“Now we’re down to the wire, and training is about to begin. Yesterday’s briefing was not optional, and you weren’t there. Draco is my design. I don’t want anyone on the team who doesn’t take the spacecraft just as seriously as I do.”

He’d had enough of her attitude. “Your design. Important to you. Lady, this mission isn’t about you. GRM is a top-secret military operation. Missing one little meeting doesn’t warrant you trying to get me bumped from the mission.”

“The briefing wasn’t one little meeting. It was the meeting. And because you weren’t at the meeting, you don’t know anything about this spacecraft. It’s a new design that you’ve never seen before. This mission is on a rushed deadline. We don’t have time to waste catching you up whenever you decide your Porsche needs detailing.”

“It’s a 1969 Cobra, and it needed a carburetor.” He’d nearly killed himself in that car trying to get to the meeting on time, but his pride wouldn’t let him tell her that.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. In any case, you’re still on the project. It’s no secret that I’m not thrilled about that fact, but we have to work together, nonetheless. So, if you’re through disrupting the room, those of us who actually work here have to get back to it.” She spun her chair back around to face her computer.

Linc just stood there for a moment, staring incredulously. There were a million things he could have said, and would have said, if he weren’t so confused.

She’d just dismissed him. No woman had ever dismissed Lincoln Ripley.

Once Shelly heard Linc finally leave the room, she released the breath she’d been holding. That man infuriated her.

She was so mad, she was nearly shaking, but she hadn’t wanted him to see that. Shelly couldn’t focus on her computer screen. Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled her glasses off. She missed her contacts, but she still hadn’t found the time to find an optometrist to update her prescription.

Lately, there wasn’t time for anything the least bit personal. There certainly wasn’t time for a social life of any kind. And to make matters worse, because her mission was top-secret, she couldn’t talk to her family about what she was doing. That made for some strained conversations, because work had become her life.

But it would be worth it. All her life, Shelly had wanted to be an astronaut. Even now as an aerospace engineer, she’d applied to the astronaut program three times. And she’d been rejected. Three times.

After her last rejection, she’d begun to doubt herself. But her boss had given her another shot when he recommended her to work on Draco. He’d told her that this could be her ticket to the stars. And with that goal in mind, Shelly had worked hard on the project. Her ideas for the vehicle had been innovative enough that she’d eventually become the lead designer.

Unfortunately, when that phase had been completed, and she’d angled for a slot on the spacecraft as an expert on the design and maintenance, Shelly had been shot down again. It was at that point that they’d been informed that this new spacecraft was for a military operation that would be manned solely by military personnel.

This wasn’t unusual. Many of NASA’s astronauts were pulled directly from the military, particularly the Air Force, since jet flight experience was valued so highly. But, Shelly knew her background in aerospace engineering should have made her sufficiently qualified under normal circumstances.

Every move Shelly had made in her career was to prepare her to become an astronaut. NASA relied heavily on its private contractors, and Shelly had gone to work for Welloney Incorporated straight from graduate school because they held contracts for some of NASA’s most high-profile projects.

When she learned GRM wasn’t going to get her into space, Shelly had almost thrown in the towel then and there, but there had been a silver lining. For her hard work on the project, she’d been promoted and sent to Houston to train the astronauts on Draco. It was hardly the next best thing to riding a rocket into space, but the money was good, and Shelly needed a change.

She’d be damned if she’d sit back and watch some hotshot pilot take Draco for granted. If she couldn’t man the craft herself, she at least wanted astronauts that saw the mission as more than another notch in their belts.

Shelly shook her head over the argument she’d just had. He’d been trying to intimidate her. Lincoln Ripley was clearly the kind of man who was used to having his way.

Why else would he have leaned over her like that? He’d probably expected that she would get a lungful of that designer cologne he wore and swoon. Or maybe he’d thought she’d be mesmerized by his chocolate-brown eyes and offer him whatever he asked for.

This was the first time Shelly had seen Linc up close, and she couldn’t deny, he was every bit as handsome as the rumor mill suggested. The women in the administration office called him Mr. Right Stuff. But that little fact only annoyed her more.

She hated men like him. The kind that never had to work hard at anything. Panties dropped at their feet with a glance, they made touchdowns without breaking a sweat, and their egos…Shelly was surprised Linc could keep a plane in the air with the weight of his ego on board.

No, this wasn’t the kind of astronaut she wanted on her mission, but they were stuck with each other. Yet, if Lincoln Ripley thought he was going to bat his thick eyelashes and get what he wanted from her, he was sorely mistaken.

She was in charge, and she wasn’t going to let him forget it.

Two days later, Linc was still trying to figure out what he was going to do about Shelly London. It seemed she’d set her mind on riding him hard.

He smiled at the double entendre. If she were any other woman, he might try making the other meaning of that statement a reality. But Linc couldn’t get past her hard edge long enough to see her that way. Prim updo. Glasses. She was clearly wound too tight. And Linc liked his women soft and loose.

At first, he hadn’t known why she was dead set against him, but he’d been certain it was an opinion she’d formed long before they’d ever met.

Sure, from the outside looking in, it might seem to her that flying her spacecraft wasn’t a priority to him—an assumption that couldn’t be further from the truth. But his gut told him that was just a surface excuse for her to continue despising him.

Linc had to admit, having a woman hate him on sight was a new sensation, and it had thrown him off his game for a minute. But he’d never been one to run from a challenge.

So what if she didn’t want him piloting Draco? Colonel Murphy, the mission director, had made it clear that losing him wasn’t an option.

His next move had been to turn the tables on her. If she didn’t want to work with him, why couldn’t she go back to Washington and turn the work over to the remaining team members? After all, Draco was nearly built. What did they need her for now?

He needed to know exactly what kind of enemy he was up against in Shelly. That meant finding out whatever he could about her.

Getting information out of her engineering team had been easy. They were a bit starstruck in his presence and were eager to answer his questions. From them, he’d learned that she was as hard to ditch from this mission as he was.

He hadn’t placed much weight on her words when she’d bragged about designing Draco. Spacecrafts were designed by teams, and being the project manager didn’t exactly make her a genius.

Except in this case. Apparently, she had been a junior member of the design team and had graduated to PM based on her development of a system that could increase propulsion while reducing fuel usage. It was technology that had never been seen before, making Shelly the absolute authority.

Using that fact as leverage, Shelly had lobbied to be included on the flight team as an engineer. Of course, she hadn’t had a chance in hell of that happening. Draco would only be boarded by military personnel. That was a mandate that had come from the vice president himself.

Linc had spent the better part of his morning grilling engineers, but at least now he’d figured out why Shelly had it out for him. She wanted to be an astronaut. And she probably resented him because he epitomized everything she wanted but couldn’t have.

Now that he understood her a bit better, he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of sympathy for her. With that in mind, he decided to take the first step toward forming a truce.

Just before lunch, Linc headed toward her workstation to find her. He hadn’t gotten any farther than the hallway outside the GRM offices when he saw Shelly coming at him.

Her brown eyes were like flashing warning signs, but he still took his chances. “Hey, I was just going to look for you—”

She stopped in front of him, arms crossed. “So you finally decided to go to the source?”

He frowned at her bitter tone. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been checking up on me, haven’t you?” Her eyes narrowed, becoming thin slits, and he resisted the survival instinct to back up.

“Well, I just—”

“What exactly was your plan? Did you think turn-about was fair play? Were you looking for some way to get me ousted from GRM so I’d be out of your hair?”

Caught off guard, he didn’t have time to mask his guilt.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. If you were really the hotshot astronaut everyone thinks you are, you would have put this much energy into brushing up on Draco instead of prying into my background.”

Linc had been silent out of pure incredulity, but now his temper snapped. “Give me a break. I didn’t hire a private investigator to follow you around and dig up dirt. I asked a few of the engineers about you. I wanted to know why you have such a giant chip on your shoulder.”

“My chips and my shoulders are none of your concern. The only things you need to concern yourself with are the specifications for the spacecraft. We start training next week, and I don’t want to fall behind schedule because you don’t know what’s going on.”

Linc saw red. “I know everything I need to know about Draco.”

She smirked. “Really? How many days can Draco stay in orbit?”

“Two hundred and ten,” he answered effortlessly.

“That was an easy one. What are Draco’s altitude control specs?”

“Nitrogen jets plus the differential firing of the main thrusters.”

Linc and Shelly were so caught up in their altercation, they barely noticed that they’d drawn a small crowd. What he did finally see was the crowd quickly dispersing and Shelly staring in horror over his shoulder.

Holding his breath, Linc spun on his heel. “Colonel Murphy. Good afternoon, sir.”

“I want the two of you in my office now,” replied the colonel.

The long walk down the hallway to the colonel’s office made Linc acutely aware of how childishly he and Shelly had been behaving. He felt like he’d just been called to the principal’s office. Something about her brought out the worst in him.

Colonel Murphy followed them into the office but didn’t sit at his desk. Instead, he walked to the window and ran a hand through his thick white hair.

Finally, he turned to face them, reining in his anger with noticeable effort. “Do you two know how much this mission is worth? Do you understand what’s at stake here?”

“Yes, sir,” they both answered in unison.

“Then why do I have two of my most valuable team members arguing loudly enough to draw a crowd when there’s work to be done?”

Linc couldn’t find any words to excuse his behavior, and Shelly remained silent beside him.

“Frankly, I’m stunned that the two of you can’t get along,” the colonel continued. “You’re both well-liked by the other members of the team. You’re both leaders. So if you don’t have trouble getting along with anyone else, why the hell can’t you get along with each other?”

Shelly leaned forward. “Actually, Colonel—”

“You know what? I don’t care,” Colonel Murphy said, cutting her off. “You don’t have to braid each other’s hair and have tea parties together. All you have to do is get the job done. You’re stuck with each other. So find a way to behave civilly. If you don’t work it out on your own, I’ll have the two of you shoved so far down each other’s throats, you’ll speak with one voice. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

“Good. Now, I don’t want to hear any more commotion from the two of you, because if I have to intervene again, I guarantee you’ll wish I hadn’t.” With that, he spun on his heel and walked out of his office.

After a moment of stunned silence, Linc and Shelly got up from their seats and hurried away in opposite directions.

Linc was still fuming on the drive home that evening. He hadn’t had a problem with a woman since he’d turned twelve. He increased his pressure on the gas pedal, letting the car gain speed to match his pulse.

Whenever his father had been angry, he’d gotten on his horse and ridden until he was spent. Linc, who’d been a city boy until his father took him in at thirteen, much preferred to ride his steel horse when he was upset. His Cobra Mustang was his pride.

But that car was in the shop now, and he was driving his environmentally conscious hybrid. Though it made his conscience feel great, it wasn’t doing much for his need to burn adrenaline.

Linc tightened his hands on the steering wheel, missing the sound of a revving engine and the rush of power that came with manually shifting gears.

He had to find a way to get along with Shelly—colonel’s orders. He rolled his eyes. Throughout his entire career in the military, he’d never been reprimanded like that. He didn’t appreciate Shelly putting him in a position to get his first reproof.

He jerked up the parking break and turned off the engine. Usually, the hour-long commute from Johnson Space Center to his ranch outside the city gave him plenty of time to work through his frustrations. But as he climbed out of the car that evening, his muscles were wound tighter than ever, and he was still muttering curses under his breath.

For once, he decided to tear a page out of his father’s book and try riding his favorite horse, Galaxy. She was black with silver dapples along the flanks that made her resemble a night sky. He’d known she was his from the second he’d laid eyes on her.

Now this had been one female he’d been able to charm out of her cantankerous demeanor, he thought as he prepared Galaxy for his ride.

He’d been warned against buying her because she’d been stubborn and extremely skittish. A steady regimen of pampering and cajoling had finally won Galaxy over. From then on, Linc thought, there wasn’t a member of the fairer sex who could resist his charms.

Until Shelly.

Mounting his horse, he cantered Galaxy across his land until they were in the open, where she could run free.

Why couldn’t he charm Shelly? She wasn’t his usual type, but he could charm most women. Just thinking about her made his blood boil so much, he could barely remember what she looked like.

She was the stereotypical librarian type, who had the potential to be attractive without the glasses, pinned-up hair, and the gigantic rod up her back. But he preferred women who put some effort into their looks. He liked it when a woman wore makeup and dressed to look good for her man.

Still, no one was saying he had to date her—just get along. Maybe he just needed to turn up the wattage on his charm. An innocent compliment or two, and she’d be eating out of his hand, the way Galaxy was taking sugar cubes from his palm right now.

They’d stopped by the creek for a rest break, but as Linc saw twilight sneaking up on him, he realized he had to get back to the ranch. If he rushed, he could get in the shower before his date that night.

He was going out with Anisa, a contestant from the most recent season of Make Me a Supermodel, and he didn’t want to show up smelling like his horse.

Shelly’s stomach rumbled loudly. The three engineers sitting alongside her launched into a chorus of jibes regarding the monster growling in her belly.

“Quick! Feed the beast,” Quincy said, tossing her a mini Snickers.

“What? I worked through lunch, trying to figure out a way to improve the extension of Draco’s grappling arm,” Shelly informed them.

“Well, that explains it then,” Jason said, looking at the other two men.

Shelly scowled, shoving the candy bar into her mouth. “That explains what?”

“Shelly, you get cranky when you don’t eat,” Raj said. “We could hear you and Lightning arguing in the hall from in here.”

Shelly rolled her eyes, trying to hide her embarrassment. She’d come to the conclusion on her own that she’d handled the situation with Commander Ripley badly from the start.

It had been an impulse that led her to ask Colonel Murphy if they could move Lieutenant Chambers up from the Beta team to the Alpha team to pilot Draco.

Dustin Chambers was the lead astronaut on Draco’s backup team. If anything happened to the crew on the Alpha team—the one led by Ripley—then the Beta team would take over.

Chambers had been gung ho about the mission from the start. He had shown up for all of the briefings and demonstrations and had exhibited particular interest in Shelly’s innovative designs.

He was the kind of astronaut she wanted to fly Draco.

When she’d asked Colonel Murphy the question, she’d only been half serious, knowing full well that Ripley’s fame and reputation would make it difficult to push him aside.

What she hadn’t counted on was Colonel Murphy telling Ripley that she’d made the casual, almost joking, inquiry. When he’d come to confront her, she couldn’t allow herself to back down.

But the hallway incident had been another story. Nothing had been more embarrassing than having Colonel Murphy sit them down like two high school delinquents.

This day had gotten completely out of control. Maybe the guys were right, she thought, turning to face her engineering team. Maybe she just needed to eat.

“Don’t worry, guys,” she told them. “I’m leaving to go rummage up some dinner right now. I promise I’ll show up well-fed Monday morning.”

Raj nodded. “You should stop at Moe’s. They have the best barbecue in Texas.”

“He’s not kidding. The sign actually says that. ‘Best Barbecue in Texas.’” Quincy laughed. “I took it upon myself to investigate that claim, and I haven’t found any better.”

“Damn,” Jason chimed in. “I wish my wife hadn’t already made dinner plans. Now I’m craving Moe’s.”

Shelly felt her tummy rumbling, and her salivary glands had gone into overdrive the minute they’d started talking about food.

“You all don’t have to say another word. I’m sold. Barbecue it is,” she declared.

When Shelly pulled into the parking lot of Moe’s Barbecue, it was a quarter to eight—prime time for the Friday-night-date and family-dinner crowd. The absolute worst time to show up at a restaurant alone.

Making up her mind to do carryout, Shelly marched into the restaurant and paused awkwardly in the foyer. With a name like Moe’s Barbecue, she was expecting red-checkered tablecloths and kitschy Western props adorning the walls. Although there was a folksy Western charm to the hardwood floors and the heavy wood and leather booths, the tables were covered in white linen and set with votive candles.

Finally, she spotted the bar in the back, and near the cash register, there was a long line of customers, which was discouraging. Before Shelly could make a break for it, a hostess appeared. “May I help you?”

Shelly bit her lip. “Actually, I was hoping to do carryout.”

The blond teenager smiled at her. “Carryout is in the back, but there’s already a bit of a backup. If you want faster service, you can sit at the bar.”

Shelly clutched her rumbling stomach. It had heard there was a chance for immediate food, and it wasn’t going to let her forget it.

“Thanks. I think I’ll do that,” she said, taking a menu from the hostess and making her way to the bar.

Luckily, Shelly spotted an empty seat and slipped into it just before an older man in a suit and cowboy boots could get to it.

She looked over her shoulder and smiled, and the man nodded in concession. Shelly ordered a full rack of Texas whiskey ribs and a dark beer, which she’d only recently acquired a taste for.

Despite the long carryout line, the hostess was true to her word, and Shelly’s food came quickly. She ended up having a nice conversation with the shoe salesman sitting beside her. Pleasantly surprised, she discovered that dining alone on a Friday night wasn’t the end of the world.

Of course, her button-down white blouse had been sacrificed to the gods of whiskey barbecue sauce, but her full belly assured her it had been worth it.

Shelly was in the middle of paying her check when she heard a voice that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

“It can’t be,” she whispered to herself. Holding her breath, she darted a look over her shoulder. A few feet away, Lincoln Ripley was being seated with his tall, leggy date.

Quickly turning her head, Shelly thrust her credit card at the bartender. They hadn’t seen her, and if she was quick, she might escape before they did.

Scribbling her name illegibly, Shelly took her receipt and headed for the door, trying to give Linc’s table the widest berth possible. She kept her eyes forward, playing the “if I can’t see you, you can’t see me” game.

She’d only taken a couple of steps before she heard Ripley say, “Is that my favorite coworker?” It stopped her dead in her tracks.

Chapter 2

Linc couldn’t believe he was seeing Shelly again so soon. If she were a ghost, she’d be haunting him.

He could have let her sneak out without mention, but when he saw her tense posture and averted gaze, he forgot all plans to charm her. Something about her absolute disdain for him made him want to push her buttons.

Colonel Murphy had made them promise to be professional, but this was after hours.

He could see Shelly’s shoulders stiffen as she spun around to face him. With a fake smile plastered on her face, she dragged her feet over to the table where he and his date were sitting.

“Commander Ripley, what a surprise.” Her tone was barely civil.

“Come on, Shelly. Now that we’re going to be such good friends, there’s no need to be so formal. Call me Linc or Lightning. And this is my date, Anisa Tyler. Anisa, this is Shelly.”

Shelly studied Anisa. “Weren’t you on the last season of Make Me a Supermodel? That’s one of my favorite shows.”

It was odd to see Shelly smile at Anisa. Her smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds. Since she’d only given him stormy days, he hadn’t known she was capable of producing sunshine. He was amazed at how much it softened her face, but the fact that she’d been withholding that softness from him set his temper off again.

While Anisa and Shelly exchanged pleasantries, Linc couldn’t take his eyes off the broad reddish stain on Shelly’s blouse. “I see you had some of Moe’s famous barbecue sauce.”

Shelly fingered the stain without looking down. “That’s right. I liked it so much, I had to take some home with me.”

Anisa cackled like a chicken and then started rummaging through her tiny purse. “I think I have something for that,” she said, pulling out a bleach stick. “This should take that right out.”

Shelly leaned over, and Anisa swabbed the stick over the stain. Right before their eyes, it started disappearing. “Will you look at that,” Shelly exclaimed. “I’m going to have to get one of those.”

“You can have mine. I have tons of them at home,” said Anisa.

Linc watched their exchange in disbelief. Within minutes, Shelly slid into the booth next to his date. She then began plugging the number for Anisa’s hair salon into her cell phone.

Anisa and Shelly were getting along great…to the point where they’d completely forgotten his existence.

He never would have pegged Shelly and Anisa as fast friends. They couldn’t have less in common. If Anisa was a peacock, then Shelly was a brown peahen. From what he could see, in the short time they’d been around one another, she never did anything special with her hair and always wore clothes that were dull and colorless.

Of course, Anisa probably could stand to wear a little less makeup. And sometimes her clothes were so fashion-forward that Linc felt a bit embarrassed for her.

Snapping out of his reverie, Linc realized he had to get rid of Shelly before she threw his date completely off track.

“Well, Shelly, we don’t want to keep you. After all, it’s Friday, and you must have plans,” he said.

Refusing to take the bait, Shelly leveled her eyes at him. “No, no plans. Unless you count a date with my pillow and blanket,” she said, sliding out of the booth. “It was great meeting you, Anisa. Thanks for the hair salon tip. I’m going to check it out.”

Linc watched Shelly walk out of the restaurant, wishing he’d let her sneak away unnoticed, after all.

True to her word, Shelly went straight to bed when she got home. But going to bed a hair before ten o’clock threw off her internal clock, and she was wide awake at five in the morning.

She’d gone to bed feeling proud and confident at the way she’d handled her potentially uncomfortable run-in with Linc. But this morning, in the dawning light of day, she realized how she must have looked to him—like a single woman who desperately needed a bib when she dined alone on Friday nights.

It was only the fact that Shelly knew Linc already held her in fairly low regard that had allowed her to keep her composure through his teasing jabs at her appearance and empty social calendar. It was a tool she’d developed in high school, when the popular girls made fun of her lack of designer handbags and stylish clothes.

In high school she’d been a nerd, and she’d known it. There had been little point in trying to impress girls she had no chance of competing with. But in college she’d started wearing makeup, and she’d had a roommate who talked her into growing her hair long so she could teach her how to do fun things with it. Her whole life had changed then. Men had started asking her out, and she began to realize that she was an attractive woman.

She hadn’t felt otherwise until now. She knew what Linc saw when he looked at her. He saw the plain, unpopular girl she’d been in high school. He had no idea that she’d learned to work with what she had. He didn’t know that she’d just been too busy to put in the effort since she’d come to Houston.

Staring in her bathroom mirror, Shelly blanched when she realized that she was actually worrying over what Lincoln Ripley thought of her. Why should she care if he saw her as attractive? She certainly didn’t think of him in that way.

Well, he was attractive—if you liked movie-star handsome. But that didn’t mean she wanted to date him. Even if they didn’t work together, they’d never get along. Two dates and they’d probably kill each other.

Running her hands through her frizzled mess, Shelly almost convinced herself that she shouldn’t improve her image, just to spite Linc. But she quickly reminded herself that not fixing herself up for fear of what Linc might think was just as bad.

Even though it was Saturday, Shelly had planned to pull out her laptop and finish up the training procedures for Monday’s session. Instead, she found herself looking up Anisa’s hair salon online. It looked like a very swanky place in the photographs, and a quick click on the services page showed that their prices reflected as much.

Shelly made a very healthy salary, and truth be told, she could probably afford to pay a couple hundred dollars for her hair. But her common sense wouldn’t let her do it.

Exiting to her Web browser, Shelly searched for a more sensible option. She found a reasonably priced salon that was only ten minutes from her house. And they even allowed her to make an appointment online.

After requesting an appointment for mid-morning, Shelly headed for the shower, vowing to unpack the rest of her clothes when she returned. It wouldn’t hurt to have some more stylish options for work now that training was getting under way.

Miss Celia’s Salon was not quite what Shelly was expecting when she arrived for her appointment later that morning. From the polished Web site and the high-tech online appointment system, Shelly was expecting the building to possess a degree of sophistication.

Unfortunately, Miss Celia’s Salon had seen better days. Paint-chipped walls and torn leather chairs underscored the salon’s need for a face-lift. Still, Shelly remained optimistic. It didn’t matter what the shop looked like as long as Miss Celia could do some hair.

“Can I help you?” an older woman asked.

“I’m Shelly London. I’m here for my ten o’clock appointment.”

“I’m Miss Celia,” the older woman said, clasping Shelly’s hand between both of hers. The older woman had warm dark eyes and short salt-and-pepper curls. “I know this is your first time here, but we hope it won’t be your last.”

Miss Celia’s pleasant demeanor put Shelly at ease. The woman slipped behind the reception desk and started typing on her computer. “It looks like Tonya will be doing your hair today. Please help yourself to some coffee, and she’ll be right with you.”

The prospect of finally having her hair done properly put Shelly in a good mood. “I really loved your Web site. It’s what convinced me to give your shop a try.”

Miss Celia’s face lit up. “Thank you. My grandson Troy designed it for me. He’s a computer science major at the University of Houston. He swore to me it would bring in new business. Now I can sure enough tell him he was right.”

After Shelly finished her coffee, Tonya escorted her back to the shampoo bowl. A young stylist, Tonya seemed nice enough as she made small talk with Shelly. And she gave her a fantastic scalp massage.

“I’m just going to put in your conditioner,” Tonya said. “Then you can sit up for about ten minutes before I wash it out.”

Just as Tonya started working the conditioner through Shelly’s scalp, Miss Celia, who was shampooing a client two bowls over, said, “Hey, is that my Silky Tresses moisturizing conditioner?”

Shelly’s eyes snapped open at Miss Celia’s tone. Tonya looked at the bottle in her hand. “Yeah. I borrowed yours because mine ran out.”

“What did I tell you about borrowing my supplies?” Miss Celia scolded. “Each stylist is responsible for buying her own products.”

Tonya’s neck swiveled as she spoke, her anger rising. “I didn’t have time to buy my own supplies, because you’ve been overbooking my clients.”

Now Miss Celia, who had seemed so sweet just moments ago, had her hands on her hips as she shouted back at Tonya. “If you can’t handle the work, you know what to do.”

Before Shelly could take that in, a bottle of conditioner whizzed past her face.

“Here! Take your funky conditioner. Too bad your mamma never taught you to share,” screeched Tonya.

Shelly lifted her soaking-wet head out of the bowl in time to see Miss Celia duck the flying bottle. “Oh, it’s on now!” shouted the older woman.

Shelly sat up, openmouthed, as the two women lunged at each other. Tonya had Miss Celia by the waist and was pushing her backward into the wall. Miss Celia reached down, grabbed a chunk of Tonya’s hair and pulled.

Two more stylists rushed around the corner, and Shelly clutched her chest in relief. Finally, someone was going to break this up.

Instead, the two women stopped a safe distance away, and one said to the other, “Aw shucks, there they go again.”

Shelly had seen enough. Without looking back, she stood up and headed straight for the door. Without bothering to remove her cape, she ran across the parking lot to her car, with her wet hair dripping down her back.

Spacecraft simulator maneuvers began Monday morning, and Linc made sure he was early for the pre-training briefing. He couldn’t give Shelly yet another reason to question his commitment to the mission.

He showed up at a quarter to the hour, expecting Shelly to already be there or show up minutes later. He sat down on the table at the head of the room, near where she would likely sit. Propping his heel on the table so he could rest his arm on his knee, he was strategically situated to be the first thing she would see when she walked in.

The effect was lost when the rest of the team started filing in, and Shelly was still nowhere to be found. “Hey, Randy. Hi, Mitch,” Linc said, exchanging hand slaps first with the copilot and then with the mission specialist on the Alpha team.

“There he is, Lightning himself,” Dustin Chambers said, pausing in the doorway. “You know what they say, though, don’t you? Lightning never strikes twice.”

Linc resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the commander of the Beta team, the team that would take over flying Draco if something happened to his team. “It’s just a nickname. Like yours. After all, just because they call you Dusty doesn’t mean they think that you’re old.”

Dusty was ten years older than Linc’s thirty-six years, and Linc always felt the two of them couldn’t get along because the older man resented all that Linc had accomplished in such a short period of time.

That and the fact that if it weren’t for Linc’s space shuttle heroics eighteen months ago, Dusty would have been leading the Alpha team.

After Dusty, the rest of the Beta team–—namely, Vince and Paul—trailed in, followed by Quincy, Jason and Raj from Shelly’s engineering team.

But it wasn’t until nearly twenty minutes later that Shelly finally appeared. She flew over the threshold with two overstuffed binders in her arms.

Linc looked at his watch and clucked in disappointment. “I was starting to think that I was going to have to run this meeting myself. Ms. London, I’d hate to think you weren’t taking this mission seriously, as being late for the first day of training clearly shows.”

Some of the other guys in the room gasped or oohed under their breath.

Shelly glared at Linc, muttering, “My alarm clock never went off.” Setting her binders on the corner of the table, she pushed them until Linc was forced to slip off the edge. “I apologize for being late, team. We have a lot to cover, so let’s not waste any more time.”

Choking down her fluster, Shelly tried not to lose control of the briefing before it started. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how she’d become such a total spaz since arriving in Houston. Back in D.C. everyone had respected her. Here, no matter how hard she tried to get one step ahead, she kept falling behind. Shelly was starting to think that Houston was just bad luck.

After her disaster at the hair salon, she’d been forced to wash out the sticky conditioner the hairdresser had half applied to her hair. Since it hadn’t been applied evenly, it created two strangely different textures in her hair. Where the conditioner had been concentrated, her hair was extra wavy; the rest was tangled and matted.

It had taken two washings to get her hair halfway back to normal. But, as a result, she had to wear it in another gel-slicked bun. Because she’d been preoccupied with her hair all day Saturday, she’d been up late Sunday night, going over her training procedures.

She’d forgotten to set her alarm clock, and the rest was history. Linc had lain in wait, ready to mock her. But she couldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting in her head.

“Okay, team. We all know that we’re on a tough deadline for GRM. You all have flown on space shuttle missions in the past, and you’re here because you’re the best at what you do. Therefore, our training is going to focus only on the areas where Draco is different from the space shuttle. Unfortunately, there are many significant differences, and we’re going to have to account for them during these sessions.” Shelly looked from one astronaut to another. “Let’s talk about the most significant difference. Anybody?”

Vince Patrecchio, the Beta team copilot, nodded to her. “The air launch. Draco is going to be strapped to the bottom of a B-52 aircraft and launched from forty thousand feet.”

“That’s right,” said Shelly. “This allows us to keep this mission secret, since there won’t be a high-profile rocket launch. Since we have to cram several months of training events into the next eight weeks, training has been divided into three phases. The computer simulations for launch, docking and landing, which we’re starting today. Practice related to the maneuverability of Draco’s extension arm will take place in the Neutral Buoyancy Lab, and finally, we’ll be doing flight testing at Edwards Air Force Base in the Mojave Desert.”

Shelly walked to the blackboard and wrote out the launch simulator exercises for the day. “One difference between Draco and the space shuttle is the thrusters. So we’re going to practice—”

Randy snickered next to Linc. “The last thing this team needs to practice is thrusting. Lightning definitely has that down.”

Shelly gritted her teeth. Normally, she didn’t have trouble getting her peers to respect her authority. But Linc had already set a tone of disrespect, and it was only natural that his team would follow suit.

Before Shelly could figure out the best way to handle Randy’s remark, Dusty Chambers spoke up. “Give me a break, guys. You wouldn’t say things like that if Colonel Murphy was in the room, so don’t start mouthing off now. Let’s show Shelly how professional we are in the air force.”

“Thank you, Dusty,” Shelly said gratefully.

Dusty gave her a wide smile in return. And, judging by the sudden scowl on Linc’s face, he didn’t appreciate his rival coming to her rescue. She knew all about the tension between them, and a sudden burst of wisdom had told her that she could use it to her advantage.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Apparently, Dusty subscribed to that same philosophy. During the twenty-minute break between the briefing and the walk to the hangar where the flight simulations would take place, he fell into step beside her.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he said.

Shelly stopped in the corridor and turned to face him. He was handsome, with spiky blond hair and a lined, weathered face from spending a lot of time outdoors. “Sure. What’s on your mind, Dusty?”

“I’m just curious. Did you really try to get Lightning pulled off the mission?”

Shelly sighed. “He blew that out of proportion. It’s not that I tried to get him pulled from the mission so much as I inquired if there were other astronauts that would have been a better fit.”

Dusty laughed out loud. “He must have loved that.”

She shrugged. “It seems Colonel Murphy is really sold on Linc as the best man for the job. Even though I don’t agree, I have to respect his judgment.”

“I gotta tell you, it’s nice to know I’m not the only one who thinks Lightning is all hype.”

“If that’s what you think, why do you call him Lightning? I refuse to indulge his ego.”

Dusty scoffed. “It’s mocking when I say it. Sure, he had a moment. I can’t take away the fact that he pulled a heroic stunt, but there’s more to being an astronaut than one moment. He’s getting a whole career’s mileage from one good mission. Most astronauts put in years of hard work and never get one newspaper article or magazine cover. But does that make them lesser astronauts?”

Shelly nodded in agreement. “You won’t get any argument from me.”

“Good. It’s nice to know we’re on the same page,” Dusty said.

Shelly turned to look after him as he walked away. Just what had he meant by that?

The airplane hangar had been equipped with an exact replica of Draco and all its parts. A series of training exercises had been scheduled, with first the Alpha and then the Beta team running through each maneuver.

Right away the Alpha and Beta teams took on the roles of rival sports teams, talking trash and bragging about which one would outperform the other.

Colonel Murphy was in attendance to supervise the exercises, and Shelly expected him to intervene. Instead, he told her that the military encouraged healthy competition because it would push each team to perform at its best.

While Shelly found herself secretly rooting for the Beta team, it was the Alpha team, and Linc specifically, that performed better. Dusty and Linc were clearly well-matched, but Linc was just a bit more of a risk taker, which allowed him to clock better times.

As a result, Linc was almost impossible to stomach during their lunch break. Colonel Murphy encouraged them all to eat together in the cafeteria to establish team unity.

But Shelly didn’t see that happening at all. There was so much back and forth between the two teams, she didn’t understand how they’d make it through the rest of the week.

Hoping to give her ears a rest so she could finish her turkey sandwich in peace, she poked Quincy in the ribs. “Change the subject. I can’t take any more of this.”

Quincy was a short, stocky guy with sandy-red hair and freckles. He looked at least ten years younger than his thirty-two years. He was one of the engineers who had moved out to Houston with her from D.C. Of all the engineers on her team, she was closest to him.

“Hey, Lightning, I heard you had a date with a girl from Make Me a Supermodel. How did it go?” said Quincy.

Shelly cringed. He would pick that topic. This was going to be a long day.

“It was great,” Linc said, then dug into his bowl of chili.

Shelly studied Linc’s reaction and wondered why he was reluctant to talk about his date. He’d certainly proven that he wasn’t the modest type, and this was the perfect audience to listen to him brag.

“Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise,” Shelly said before she could stop herself.

Linc glared at her. “There’s no trouble. Anisa is a great girl.”

“I know. I met her,” replied Shelly. “We had a great conversation about stain remover and hair salons. What do you two talk about?”

“If they’re doing a lot of talking, Lightning’s doing something wrong,” Randy joked.

Shelly rolled her eyes. “What was I thinking? A space jock like you doesn’t want to date girls capable of stimulating conversation. All you’re after is…stimulation. Nothing more than arm candy.”

Linc shrugged. “What can I say? I’ve got a sweet tooth.”

“Wait a minute,” Mitch said. “How come Shelly has met your girl? You’ve never let any of us meet your dates.”

“That’s because he’s never dated one girl long enough,” Randy said, laughing. “It’s been what? Three weeks already? She’s only got another week or so before he moves on.”

Linc scoffed. “What are you talking about? It’s not like I schedule them or anything.”

“Oh, you don’t? Then it just works out that way,” Randy said.

Linc squirmed a bit. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, then you’re serious about this one?” Vince asked.

Linc ducked his head, with a sheepish grin on his face. “Can’t get serious. Anisa is moving to Milan to model for Dolce&Gabbana on a long-term basis.”

“Oh, yeah? When does she leave?” Randy asked.

Linc shrugged. “Next week.”

“I rest my case,” said Randy.

Shelly pursed her lips. It figured that he was the “love them and leave them” type. So far he wasn’t failing to live up to her low opinion of him.

“You guys haven’t considered the fact that the girls may be running away from him. After all, not many women appreciate a guy who’s lightning fast,” Shelly quipped. She heard Quincy gasp beside her.

Linc glared at her. “I’ve never had any complaints.”

Shelly laughed. “Women don’t usually bother with complaining. They just get the hell out.”

Everyone at the table laughed, and Linc was visibly angry. But after a deep breath, his face relaxed. “That’s okay. You all can laugh if you want to. I know jealousy when I hear it. I’m secure with my manhood. My reflexes are lightning fast when I fly. Enough said.”

Shelly just shook her head, taking a bite of her turkey sandwich. While her mouth was full, and she couldn’t retort, Linc leveled his gaze on her.

“I’m noticing that you have a keen interest in my private life,” he said. “I saw you perk up when you heard there’s going to be an opening in my date book. But I have to be frank with you. I just don’t think it would be professional of me to encourage your crush.”

Shelly’s startled intake of breath was followed by a wad of turkey, which flew past her tongue and lodged solidly in her throat. Her eyes went wide, immediately starting to water as she choked. Coughing and wheezing, she pounded on her chest, trying to swallow the meat.

She couldn’t hear anything but the panicked pounding of her heart as she gasped for breath. Suddenly, she was pulled to her feet, and two powerful arms encircled her. Two quick presses below her ribs and the wad of turkey flew onto the table before them.

Tears were streaming down her face, blurring her vision. All she heard were voices gasping and asking if she was all right.

The strong arms holding her upright finally released her, and she reached up to wipe her eyes. Turning to face her rescuer, she coughed out the words, “Thanks…so much.”

Lincoln Ripley’s face came into view. “Are you sure you’re all right?” He helped her to the cafeteria bench, facing away from the anxious onlookers. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have been teasing you.”

Shelly swallowed hard, taking in the fact that her worst enemy had just become her savior.

Loud enough for everyone to hear, she said, “Fine. I take it back. You’ll never hear me complain about you being lightning fast ever again.”

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