Touch the Heavens by Lindsay McKenna Read Free Book Online

you?”
    “I’m a test pilot by nature, Chris. I preplan as much as I can and then carry it through.” A grin edged his mouth. “Come on, are you going to sit there and tell me you didn’t enjoy that kiss?”
    She blushed beautifully, at a loss for words, for once. “You just keep your distance,” she warned throatily, her violet eyes golden with fire.
    His grin widened. “Is that threat for my benefit or yours?”
    “You’re impossible, McCord! I’ve never run into a jock like you in my whole life! Where did they find you?”
    He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip of the coffee, his eyes filled with laughter. “I’m one of a kind, Raven. Your kind. And don’t forget it. Because if you try to, I’ll be right there to remind you.”
    She stood, infuriated and frustrated with him. “Thanks for the coffee and the flight, Major. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go study. At least my books won’t talk back to me!”
    “Hey,” he called, sitting back up, reaching for a manual. “Before you storm out of here, take this and read it.”
    Chris turned, giving him a black glare. “What is it?”
    “The F-4 manual. You might as well eat, drink and sleep this baby until you can recite it forward and backward. I’m going to test you on it next week. So be ready.”
    She stared at the three-inch-thick manual and then at him. Jerking it from his hand, she muttered, “With you, I’m ready for anything!”

4
    “ I DON’T CARE if the Joint Chiefs of Staff blessed this affair,” Captain Richard Brodie growled, his feet propped up on a desk. “There’s no way a broad can be a test pilot.” He looked up at his two companions who loitered nearby at their respective desks. It was 1245 and most of their fellow students were filtering in for their afternoon classes, which would start promptly at 1300.
    “I dunno, Brodie, it’s been almost three weeks and that ‘broad’ as you call her, isn’t looking too bad,” Captain Greg Rondo said, a grin on his wide, handsome features. “Take a look at how good Mallory’s doing in the F-4. She ain’t no slouch at the stick, buddy.”
    Rondo was quick to recognize from the outset of his assignment to TPS that every student possessed a marked degree of overachieving drive and desire. He was no exception. He thrived on competition—if not with himself, then pitting his skills against another pilot or taming a shrewish jet aircraft. Yes, they were all winners bent on being the best, setting high personal standards and demands for themselves.
    Brodie snorted, turning the paper coffee cup around on his desk. “Screw her.” He lifted his head, glaring up at Rondo. “She’s an icy bitch if I ever saw one.”
    Rondo sat down next to him. “She’s got hands, though,” he pointed out, delighting in poking holes in Brodie’s opinionated stance. “Take a look at her test scores in Double Ugly. The gal ain’t flying extra hours for nothing. And from what I’ve seen, she handles the jet real well.”
    “You’re only saying that because you want to get close to her,” Brodie growled.
    Rondo smiled. “I think she’s kind’a interesting, myself. Good hands, good in the classroom. I’d like to fly with her.” A glint came to his light blue eyes. “I’ll bet that girl could do an inside loop with Ugly and come out smiling.”
    Brodie shook his head. “Nobody puts an F-4 into an inside loop and lives to tell about it, buddy. You know that as well as I do.”
    Rondo shrugged his thin, wiry shoulders. “Just give me a chance to go up with Mallory, and I’ll show her what an F-4 can really do.”
    “You’ll probably scare the hell out of her,” Brodie said, chuckling. “Man, she’s cold.”
    “Well, with jocks like you aiming to shoot her down, I don’t blame her for not being none too friendly,” Rondo challenged.
    Brodie returned to dutifully turning the cup around in long slender fingers. Mallory was an enigma. She was the epitome of a grade-A student: