The Gauntlet. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ Cam, take a look at this.” Vic Norton handed him a thick file marked Rutledge, M.

      Cam took the folder, gesturing for Vic to have a seat in his office. The flight engineer shut the door. “What’s this?”

      “The lady’s file. Man, it knocked my socks off. Now I know why she got assigned to TPS. Take a look.”

      It was normal procedure for Cam to acquaint himself with all the students’ files. He tried to tell himself he hadn’t particularly been looking forward to reading up on Molly. Opening the file, he quickly scanned the important data. His brows rose.

      “She got washed out of flight school?”

      “Yeah. Hung in for six weeks and then got deep-sixed. Still, the IP’s evaluation shows she’s got good aptitude, if she wanted to leave the service and go for a commercial pilot’s license. I think I’ve got a pretty good prospect in her.”

      Frowning, Cam continued to page through her file. “You really think so?”

      “Yeah, why?”

      “She’s a cream puff, Vic.”

      “Oh?”

      “Look at her face.”

      “Good-looking as hell.”

      Cam glanced over at his friend. “Is that all you swabbies have on the brain—sex?”

      Grinning, Vic shrugged. “Hey, I’m happily married, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still appreciate women. And Rutledge is definitely worth appreciating.”

      Cam read some of her bio. “Comes from a well-to-do background.”

      “More like a silver spoon, I’d say. Her father owns one of the hottest brokerage firms in the Big Apple. She’s got his genes. I’ll bet beneath that sweet face of hers is a real hustler. Those jet jocks think she’s soft, too, but my money’s on her to fool every last one of them.”

      “She’s had it easy,” Cam remarked, handing the folder back to Vic. He wanted to hold on to it, but it would have appeared unusual. “It’s my experience that people who’ve had it easy don’t make it when the chips are down. I don’t think that face is skin-deep. She’s soft.”

      “Naw, I think you’re wrong.” Vic grinned and tapped the folder against his knee. “I overheard one of your students bitching about her.”

      “Martin, by any chance?”

      “Yeah. He’s already bad-mouthing her to the other pilots.”

      Frowning, Cam rubbed his jaw. “I saw him nail her in the hall. I’m his instructor.”

      “He’s going to have to learn to keep his mouth shut, and if he’s got a problem, go to you.”

      “Hmm.” Martin was one of those jet jocks who contended women were worthless—except in bed.

      “Glad he’s your problem and not mine,” Vic said airily, rising. “Eat your heart out, Sinclair. I think Rutledge is gonna make the grade.”

      Cam shook his head. “Never.” After all, his just looking at her in the classroom had made her drop her books, he thought. After Vic left, Cam sighed. For some damned reason, he couldn’t get enough of looking at Molly Rutledge. Why was he so drawn to her? Looking at his watch, he saw it was 1700. Time to eat. He wasn’t really hungry—he’d lost twenty pounds after the death of his family. The paperwork on his desk begged to be done. He’d go over to the restaurant on the base, get a take-out order and go to the TPS library. That was his place to hide. No phone to answer, no people dropping in unexpectedly to disrupt him. He could finally get his work done.

      * * *

      Molly’s stomach growled ominously. The library, small and intimate, was empty. She’d gotten interested in one of her textbooks on software programming, and time had gotten away from her. Looking at her watch, she realized it was 1730. Her back was to the library entrance, and she heard the door open and close. Her scalp prickled and she twisted around in her chair to see who had come in.

      Her heart dropped hard in her chest. It was Cameron Sinclair. He stood, a scowl working its way across his broad brow. In one hand he held a sack of food, in the other an armful of files.

      “You.”

      Molly blinked at the whispered word. Said as a curse? Searching his hard, unyielding face, she wasn’t sure. His pale eyes pinned her, and she felt like quarry.

      “I…uh, is the library off-limits after 1700, Captain?” She’d already screwed up, judging by the dark look on his features. Maybe at night the library was for instructors’ use only. She rose suddenly, her thigh brushing the desk, and two of its four legs jerked off the carpeted floor.

      Her books went flying, sailing gracefully across the aisle to thud like small explosions into the row of library shelves.

      Cam watched the unfolding events in disbelief. Molly had jumped up, almost toppling over the desk. Her hands flew to her cheeks as she stood watching her books fly. To compound the error, she stepped back, almost falling over her chair, which didn’t slide well against the carpeted floor. His own hands full, Cam was helpless to do anything but watch. Molly caught her balance, but the chair tipped over backward, crashing to the floor. Cam’s heart wrenched in his chest as he saw her eyes fill with utter embarrassment.

      “Klutz,” she said apologetically, kneeling down in front of the shelves. “I’ve always been a klutz, Captain. I’m sorry. Libraries are supposed to be quiet.”

      Cam sensed something sad in Molly’s apology. He set his sack and files on another desk. Her gold hair swung effortlessly, like a curtain, hiding her bright-red features, and Cam found himself wanting to reassure her that her very human reaction to him wasn’t bad or wrong.

      “You don’t need to apologize.” God, he sounded hard and unforgiving. The thought was validated when she twisted a look up at him, her blond bangs thick and barely touching her brows, a panicked look on her face. Groaning to himself, Cam felt pulled into the shadowed worry of her now dark green eyes.

      “My father always says when I get nervous I’m like an elephant in a china shop,” Molly offered breathlessly, reclaiming her books and stacking them back on her desk. As she leaned down to retrieve her pen and notebook, her hip caught the desk’s corner.

      “Ouch!” Molly bit back the rest of her retort, dolefully rubbing her aching hip, sure a bruise would appear shortly.

      Tucking her lower lip between her teeth, she avoided Sinclair’s searching gaze. Before she could bend down again, he was there, picking up her pen and notebook. Molly stared at his hand. His knuckles were large, the fingers long. Pilot’s hands. Strong, guiding hands. Forcing herself to look up, she expected accusation from him and tried to prepare herself emotionally for his censure.

      “Here, take these before you do any more damage to yourself.”

      Oddly, his eyes weren’t hard-looking any longer. Molly reached out, her fingers brushing his. The sensation of contact was sharp and warm. “I— Thanks, Captain.”

      “First days are always nerve-racking.” СКАЧАТЬ