Touch The Heavens

Flying was her first passion

Then Chris Mallory met Major Dan McCord, her instructor in test-pilot school. The attraction—compelling, magical, overwhelming—was definitely mutual.

The first woman in a male-dominated field, Chris had enough to handle without beginning a love affair. But the powerful feelings between them were irresistible, and with Dan she could soar to such ecstatic heights....

Touch the Heavens

Lindsay McKenna

www.millsandboon.co.uk

“How I want you, my raven-haired love.”

Dan’s voice was roughened by desire as he wrapped Chris in his arms. “Tonight, tomorrow, forever....”

An uncontrolled fire swept through her as he kissed her deeply, possessively. Then his fingers slipped under the straps of her nightgown, baring her shoulders.

Chris gasped when his hands moved down to the fullness of her breasts. Arching upward, she met his hunger with her own, wanting, needing all of him.

“Now,” she murmured entreatingly. “Please, Dan, love me now....”

In Memory of Doug Benefield, Test Pilot

When I first met you to interview you, I wondered if you were born part eagle. You lived to fly, flew to live. Your world never consisted of feet on the ground. No, you felt happiest with a stick in your hand and rudders beneath your booted feet, sailing through that vast blue ocean called the sky. And having been a test pilot for such a long time, you had survived longer than almost all of them. There was a natural intimacy between you and the bird you flew, an understanding. You were a natural stick-and-rudder man.

Your ability to share your knowledge of test piloting, with even the uninitiated such as myself, forever imprinted you in my heart. On August 29, 1984, you died at the stick of your beloved B-1B bomber; you went out like you came in: flying. And I know from the way your voice grew gruff and your eyes softened when you looked at that bird that you loved what you were doing. And I was privileged to not only see, but feel that fierce pride and satisfaction within you toward your profession, as one of the greatest test pilots in the world.

Doug, you were an eagle and truly, you did Touch the Heavens

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

1

DAN MCCORD’S EYES narrowed as he spotted the woman in a dark blue Air Force uniform standing near the flight line. So this was their woman test-pilot student, Captain Chris Mallory. So intent was she on inspecting the line of jet aircraft parked on the concrete ramp that she hadn’t heard him approach. A wry smile tugged at his mouth as he allowed himself to fully enjoy the sight of her.

She was tall for a woman, but not for a test pilot; probably around five-foot-seven, he guessed. Her hair was a luxurious black with blue highlights, like those of a raven’s wing gleaming in the early-morning light. Although Dan had met several women Air Force pilots during his career, he was pleasantly surprised: Chris Mallory was decidedly feminine in every respect. Her thick black hair curled softly into a shoulder-length page boy that barely brushed her shoulders. Small, dainty pearl earrings adorned her earlobes. Nice, he decided. Very nice. There was an air of confidence around her that widened his smile. Even at a distance of twenty feet, she was a woman who would definitely command any male’s attention.

As if finally sensing his presence, Chris Mallory turned her head slowly toward him, giving Dan the full impact of her violet gaze. He had never seen anyone with such wide, heather-colored eyes. Her face was square, softened by slightly full lips that curved upward. Overall, he decided, an arrestingly attractive woman—the kind who made him want to stare at her like an eighteen-year-old boy instead of a thirty-two-year-old man. He walked forward, extending his hand.

“You must be Captain Chris Mallory. I’m Major Dan McCord, one of the instructors at the Test Pilot School.”

Chris smiled warmly, automatically proffering her own hand. Her slender fingers met and were enclosed by his in a firm grip. She gave a slightly embarrassed laugh, as he continued to hold her hand. Reluctantly, he released it.

‘‘Yes, I am Captain Mallory. How did you know? Or is test-pilot student written all over me?”

He grinned. “Just a lucky guess. Actually, some of the guys think I’m psychic.” Nice sense of humor, he thought. Dancing amethyst eyes with a real spark of life in them. Chris Mallory possessed a blend of femininity, confidence and allure, with emphasis on the allure. He felt excited by her presence in the test-pilot curriculum. If her looks were any indication of her skill as a pilot, she was going to do well as the first woman to challenge the male dominion of test piloting for the Air Force.

Chris found herself warming to Dan McCord, missing little in her initial inspection of him. He was a good five inches taller than her, with lean features and eyes the color of the sky she loved to fly in. Deeply tanned by the California sun, he carried himself with easy grace. Yet within him, Chris sensed there was a tightly coiled power. She would have been more on guard if his mouth had been thin or cruel looking. But it was a firm, well-shaped mouth. His walnut-brown hair was neatly trimmed and tapered in typical military style.

“I’d accept the psychic bit if I didn’t know that nearly every national newspaper had announced that I’d be arriving today at Edwards Air Force Base to begin processing for Test Pilot School.”

“Looks like I’ve been caught in the act,” Dan admitted. “Now I’ll have to confess to reading all the publicity anticipating your arrival.”

Chris groaned. “Not to mention the television coverage. You’d think I was the first woman astronaut or something.”

He liked her ability to remain at ease with him; something that other women military pilots never did accomplish. “You are a first, Captain. But I was hoping that all this fanfare wouldn’t deter you from looking forward to school.”

She found herself beginning to relax. Maybe this new Chapter in her life wasn’t going to be as tough as she thought. Dan stood before her, one hand resting lazily on his slim hips. His flight cap was edged in silver with the gold major’s oak leaf on one side, perched confidently on his head. His one-piece olive flight suit fit his lean, whipcord body to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders and well-muscled chest. “What almost stopped me from coming was my car,” she admitted ruefully. “It broke down outside of Lancaster, about thirty miles from here.”

His brows dipped. “Oh?”

She gave a shake of her head. “I got lucky and found a loose wire on the distributor; otherwise, I’d be hitchhiking onto the base. Somehow, I suspect the other test-pilot students wouldn’t think much of that.”

Dan became serious, watching her through half closed eyes. “You’re a pilot, not a car mechanic. I don’t see why anyone would make fun of you if you hadn’t been able to fix it.”

“I expect some of the students are going to try and find the least little flaw in me and blow it out of proportion.” She forced a smile, realizing the palms of her hands were damp. McCord was affecting her strangely, and suddenly Chris felt nervous around him. And at twenty-nine years old! Still she could see that she was affecting him similarly. Was this chemistry? Had that invisible web snared both of them within its unseen grip? In a characteristic gesture, Chris touched her hair, smoothing several strands back into place from her now rose-flushed cheeks.

“Don’t worry about that. We’re prepared to deal with any student who might cause you a problem, Captain.” He looked at his watch. “You were supposed to arrive over at personnel at 0900 this morning.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because the commandant ordered me to meet you over there and help you with the processing procedures.” Then he gave her an appraising look. “But, like any good student, you’re here early.”

“I just wanted to come down and take a look,” she whispered, keenly aware of his maleness. “Some of these jets I’ve flown. Most of them I haven’t. I just wanted to see....”

“I understand. Once flying gets in your blood, it’s there to stay. Look, I have to do some proficiency flying in that F-4 Phantom sitting over there. Why don’t you go over to the cafeteria and get some coffee? I’ll meet you at personnel at 0900, and then we’ll get you settled into the Barracks Officers’ Quarters.”

A new thrill coursed through her. Dan McCord appeared to be genuinely interested in her welfare. She had been prepared to steel herself against the chauvinism she would be facing because she was breaching the male dominion of test piloting. “You’ve got a deal, Major McCord.”

“When we’re alone like this, call me Dan. I only stand on military formality when necessary, Chris.”

She felt the caress in his voice as he used her name, and felt a shiver of expectancy ripple through her. “Well—” she began uneasily.

“No argument. Hey, I’ve earned the honor of escorting you around, I want you to know that.”

She tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

Dan grinned boyishly. “Every instructor at TPS wanted to do the honors. We drew cards and I got the queen of hearts.”

Chris found herself unnerved by his probing look.

“In more ways than one,” he added huskily. Then, gesturing toward the flight line, he said, “And if I have my way about it, I’ll be your instructor in three of those combat aircraft.”

Before she could think of a glib retort to his flirtatiousness, McCord had gone, moving down the flight line toward the awaiting aircraft. Chris watched him, unraveled by his charm, friendliness and warmth. A silly smile touched her lips, and she shook her head. Normally, after having survived seven years in the military, she could trade teasing retorts with the best of them. But Dan McCord made her feel like a giddy seventeen-year-old girl on her first date.

* * *

LATER THAT MORNING, after two hours’ worth of paperwork, Chris was officially enrolled as a student for Test Pilot School. She was about to ask where the barracks was when Dan appeared at her side.

“I’ll escort you over to the Barracks Officers’ Quarters and get you settled in your assigned rooms,” he offered, lifting his flight cap in playful imitation of a porter.

“You don’t have to do that,” Chris spoke quickly. “I’ll find my way.”

“But I want to,” he answered, settling the flight cap back on his head. “Come on, I have all the necessary forms filled out so we can whisk you through.”

The BOQ was the home for all single officers who wanted to live on base. It was mandatory that all students stay at Edwards simply because of the amount of training and flying that took place. All the married students were assigned to small, stucco, one-story homes on Sharon Street. Dan pointed out that it gave moral support to the families to be with others going through the same grind.

Chris entered the large rooms, looking around. Dan leaned casually against the door and watched as she inspected her new quarters.

“I thought you might like some lunch before you start unpacking,” he offered when she had finished.

“I—”

“What’s this? The Air Force’s finest woman pilot at a loss for an answer?”

She gave him a flat look, trying not to smile. “That’s happened a few times,” she acknowledged lightly.

Dan gave her a boyish grin. “I imagine after being hounded by the media, there’s something to be said for silence. Come on, grab your hat and I’ll give you a quick tour of the base,” he urged. “I’ll bet you’re tired. You’ll probably want to crash after lunch.”

A cold chill swept through her. “Please don’t use the word crash,” she said, a sobering quality in her voice.

“Poor word choice on my part. Let’s think about lunch instead, okay?”

She remained silent in his Corvette on the way over to the Officers’ Club. The building sat up on a hill, its white walls gleaming in the pale December sunlight.

“What do you think of our base so far?’’ he asked, parking the Corvette in the crowded lot.

“It’s big. Impressive.”

“The base covers three hundred ten thousand acres of Mojave Desert.’’ He rested his hands on the steering wheel for a moment, looking over at her. “And speaking of impressive, I understand you have some pretty distinguished qualifications yourself.”

Chris squirmed beneath his admiring gaze. Every time he looked at her it was as if he had reached out and touched her bodily. The sensual tension seemed to vibrate between them. It was a disturbing chemistry that made her feel suddenly shy. “I met the requirements for TPS,” she responded modestly, wanting to avoid bragging about her credentials. She climbed out of the sports car.

Dan checked his stride, aware of her new coolness. Why had she become reserved with him?

“How was your flight today?” Chris finally asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

Dan ushered her into the spacious lobby, adorned with paintings and photographs of Edwards’s colorful history. “It was beautiful. You’ll find that you’ll want to fly early in the morning before everyone else gets up there. The air’s calmer.”

“I can hardly wait to climb back into the cockpit of a fighter,” Chris confided fervently.

Dan smiled, directing her to the dining room and found an empty table. It was the first time since their meeting that she had shown some of her true feelings. “You love flying, eh?” he asked, sitting next to her. “When you were born did your parents think you were part eagle?” he asked teasingly.

Chris compressed her lips, avoiding his warm, interested gaze. “I don’t have any parents.”

“Both dead?” She was too young to have both mother and father gone. He saw her face grow tense, and Dan realized he had stepped into something larger than he could have possibly anticipated.

“I’m an orphan.”

Dan sat back, sensing—no, feeling her carefully shielded anguish. His thoughts acted like a circuit breaker on his emotions. She had no one? No one at all?

No wonder she had all the earmarks of a loner. Toying with the fork, he pondered the consequences of her lack of family support. His mouth curved into the semblance of a smile for her benefit. “Just because all of us Air Force pilots are handsome devils, doesn’t mean we don’t blunder into things at times.” He reached forward instinctively, his hand briefly settling on hers. “I’m sorry, Chris.”

The instant his hand touched hers, a thrilling pulse sent her heart beating faster. But before Chris could respond, Dan had removed his hand. He was an instructor at TPS. One of her instructors. And more than that, he was a major and she was below him in rank. Further, he was a relative stranger to her. There were a hundred reasons why Dan McCord shouldn’t have touched her. But her heart...oh, God, her heart surged with an instant’s joy at his touch.

“I shouldn’t be so defensive,” she began. “I’m more tired than I thought from the trip.”

Dan grinned easily. “Forget it. I understand.”

The waitress came over and interrupted them. Chris ordered a Scotch on the rocks and Dan ordered a beer.

“You’re hard to figure out,” she told Dan. “You should be anti-women pilots like everyone else.”

His laugh was low, resonant. “I’m many things but not that. I’ll be truthful with you, Chris. I like your company.”

“You’re coming on strong, Major.”

“Why do you confuse honesty with a pass?” he parried.

Chris blinked. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been around fighter jocks. You’re all alike. Real hotshots with a male ego a mile wide. You all think you have something to prove. Especially to a woman military pilot. I’m not interested in being your latest challenge, Major McCord.”

“Ι’ll be the first to admit that I like the way you fill out that uniform.” His azure eyes grew dark. “And you’re right about me liking a challenge. I wouldn’t be in the test-pilot business if I didn’t. But you’re wrong about my being a fighter jock. I used to fly B-52 bombers. I flew the slower, heavier aircraft just like you did,” he said, his voice firm. “I flew the F-4 Phantom during the war. But otherwise, I was weaned on bombers and lived most of my military life in them. Now, does that make you feel a little guarded about me?”

She liked his honesty. It became him. A slight smile edged her full lips. It was common knowledge that fighter jocks were far more aggressive than bomber pilots. “I would never have guessed it. But then, you are a paradox.”

“Comes with the territory, Chris. I don’t know too many test pilots that aren’t like day and night, Jekyll and Hyde. You are, too, you know. So be careful of the pot calling the kettle black.”

She relaxed within the aura of their parry-riposte conversation. Leaning her elbows on the table, she smiled. “Not me. If there is a set of words to describe me, it’s consistent, loyal and responsible.”

Dan took a swallow of his beer, his eyes dancing with silent laughter. “I’d prefer to use more complimentary adjectives, such as beautiful, sensitive and shy.”

Something happened inside Chris. Her heart raced strongly for a moment and she felt giddy—like a child. But she had never felt like a child in all her life. How had he brought out this hidden side of her—and on less than one day’s acquaintance! She couldn’t resist a smile. “You’re a fighter jock at heart, Major. I don’t care how long you flew bombers. You’re long on bs and short on sincerity.”

Dan grinned wickedly. “Think so? We’ll see,” was all he said.

* * *

CHRIS WAS FINISHING off the last coat of polish on her fingernails when she heard a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Who could it be? She knew no one on base yet except Dan McCord. A small, blonde woman in a dark blue uniform came in. Chris gasped, rising.

“Karen! I don’t believe it.”

“Finally, after a year we get to see each other again.” Her friend laughed, coming forward. Karen was only five-foot-three and reminded all who saw her of a blonde, blue-eyed pixie come to life. Careful not to smear the drying nail polish, Chris hugged her. Karen stepped back, taking off her cap and smoothing her short curly hair back into place.

“Come on in the kitchen, Karen. Like some coffee?”

The petite blonde made herself comfortable at the kitchen table. “Love some. I arrived at Edwards a little more than a month ago. I work over at Test Pilot School in Operations. As soon as I heard you were being assigned, I had to let you know you had a friend here.”

Chris smiled happily, putting the coffee on. Karen and she had been roommates throughout their four years at the Air Force Academy. Afterward her friend had failed her flight test and gone into a different military career. But it hadn’t stopped them from remaining close over the years.

“Right now, I could use a friend,” Chris confided.

“Amen. You’re really biting off a big chunk by being the first woman in the Air Force to try for test-pilot status.”

“Around these guys, I may just decide to clam up or watch my words. It’s safer that way, I think.”

“I understand. In a sense, I’m glad I flunked out of pilot training, Chris. Watching you as you weather the chauvinism, the dirty looks and even worse verbal insults from the men would make me quit.” Karen gave her friend a keen look. “Every newspaper article I’ve read on you asked why you became the first woman test pilot. And your answer was always the same: you had earned the right to take a shot at the most prestigious job in the Air Force. Level with me. Why did you apply to TPS?”

Chris sipped the coffee. “Maybe a better question would be, what makes Chris Mallory run the way she does?”

“I thought it might be because you were orphaned and you don’t have anyone. Test piloting is risky. Maybe you had nothing to lose if you did die. Sounds dumb, I know.” And then she shrugged. “I never was good at psychology.”

“You almost flunked out on it,” Chris agreed. “I love to fly, Karen. It’s that simple. I never told the press that because I would come off sounding like some pie-in-the-sky idealistic female.” She slowly turned the cup around in her hands. “Flying makes me happy, Karen. Up there, I’m free—free of the past. The sky has no memory. It forgives and forgets who and what you are or are not. I don’t have to remember that I’m an orphan. Or that I’m a woman in a very male-dominated business. Up there I’m a woman. And the sky doesn’t care. And neither does my aircraft.” She smiled sadly. “See, I told you it would sound philosophical and idealistic.”

“No,” Karen murmured, “it sounds like you. There are a number of instructors over at TPS like you. They just live to fly. It’s their full-time mistress. They want nothing more out of life than to climb into the cockpit of a plane and take off for the blue sky.”

“I think I just met one of those guys. Major Dan McCord.”

Karen’s eyes widened. “Oh, him! He’s such a terrific guy, Chris. And he’s single, too.”

Chris frowned. “No matchmaking,” she warned sternly. “By the way, how’s your love life?”

“Much better. I’m dating an instructor by the name of Major Mark Hoffman. He’s wonderful.”

“I can tell by the sound in your voice.”

“You’ll like him. I know both Mark and Dan were excited about having you at TPS. They know a woman can be a fine test pilot, unlike a lot of other guys over there who think you’ll wash out before you set foot in the place.”

Chris took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. “Well, when you consider I’ve never sat behind a stick of a fighter plane, they could be right. It means having to work twice as hard as any other student in order to make the grade.”

“Isn’t that the truth? When will women ever get a fair shake? Why do we always have to start from behind and be twice as good as any man at something before we’re taken seriously?”

“I don’t know. I thought I’d had enough of that pressure and stress when we went through four years of hell at the Academy. But here I am, doing it all over again, breaking new ground.” Chris shook her head. “And I’m so tired of wearing flight uniforms all the time with no makeup or jewelry.” She touched her shoulder-length hair, now shining with blue highlights after its recent brushing. “I’ve made up my mind. I might have to dress like a man, but I’m not going to look like one. After the mandatory morning flights, I’m putting my earrings back on and adding a bit of makeup.” She held out her hands. “And I’m going to wear nail polish.”

Karen laughed. “Good for you! At least I get to wear a skirt and pumps all the time. But you know the flight rule about no jewelry. If you wore a ring on your hand and had to eject, the jewelry might get caught on something and you’d lose that finger.”

“Or worse, my whole hand. No, I realize the rules are there for a reason, but I’m determined to keep my femininity intact, regardless.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Chris. With your looks, you could wear a gunnysack and still turn heads.”

Chris laughed with her. “We’ll see just how many heads I turn tomorrow morning. And I can guarantee you, not all of them will be admiring ones.”

2

CHRIS PROCEEDED UP the long sidewalk toward the Test Pilot School building. She touched her hair, now in a chignon at the nape of her neck, in a gesture of nervousness. Why do I feel as if I’m going in front of a firing squad, she wondered. I thought I’d sweated enough for my wings. Her stomach was tied in knots. She was dressed in her snug one-piece green flight suit that was adorned with all the appropriate patches on each shoulder. The small pearl earrings and pale-pink nail polish and light application of makeup subtly emphasized her femininity. Her blue flight cap rested on her black hair, the double silver bar on the cap shining brightly in the January sunlight.