Free No Quarter Given (SSE 667) by Lindsay McKenna Page B

came first. With Griff, it was different. In some part of her, she instinctively knew he'd never raise a hand to physically hurt her—even if he was bound and determined to wash her out of flight school.
    I'm crazy, Dana decided, unable to explain logically her reactions to him. Maybe the four years of grueling strain at Annapolis were catching up with her. Rising from the table, holding her new flight log, Dana held Griff's eaglelike gaze.
    "Ready, Coulter?"
    He couldn't even say "Good morning." Dana fought to regain that familiar sense of control, to protect herself from the inevitable pain of opening herself to caring what he did or thought. "Yes, sir, I am," she replied coolly.
    Griff frowned. She'd been smart enough to get a flight logbook. He'd planned on berating her for little things right off the bat—things she was responsible to get and have ready when he arrived. It had been six days since he'd last seen Dana. For the most part, her black eye had disappeared. Her cheekbone was back to normal, and only a slight yellowish color beneath the left eye still showed. Her black hair was thick, glinting with bluish highlights beneath the fluorescent lights. Drawn to her azure eyes, thickly fringed with black lashes, Griff felt a hypnotic pull to simply lose himself in them.
    With a growl he spun around, muttering, "Follow me."
    Walking helped take the edge off Dana's nervousness. The late-April morning was clear and the winds were calm, the meteorologist at the weather desk had told her. Griff had frowned when he'd taken her to the weather station to get the forecast. A well-prepared student, Dana had pulled the slip of paper from her flight log, handed it to him and repeated the information on it. Griff's gray eyes flashed with grudging admiration laced with anger. Dana curbed a smile. She had spent the week learning flight routine from Maggie and Molly. Plus, she'd spent ten-to-twelve hours a day studying the textbooks, cramming every conceivable bit of information into her head so that it would be at her disposal, should Griff require it. And every evening, when her friends returned from the station, they would sit in the kitchen with the trainer mock-up and each spend at least an hour going through different flight procedures, burning them into their brains until the moves became second nature. In the cockpit they wouldn't have to stop and think; they would simply respond.
    Griff stood openmouthed as Dana flawlessly performed the walk-around inspection of his trainer. She missed nothing. Nothing! The crew chief, Aviation Machinist Mate Parker, handed her the discrepancy log, and she noted and signed it off, giving him a warm smile of thanks. Griff bridled. Dana's smile had been genuine, and he found himself wondering if she'd ever bestow one on him. Her blue eyes were intense and focused. But the moment Parker came up with the log, her business facade melted. In its place were her dancing blue eyes and a smile that could melt the hardest of hearts. Even his.
    As Dana turned toward Griff, she saw him scowling at her. Automatically, she became all business again.
    "Ground inspection completed, sir." At every other trainer on the flight line, the same procedure was going on between IP and student. Voices were low and strained. Dana felt the tension and tried to keep her shoulders relaxed, her voice unruffled. Griff looked positively beside himself; like a mad dog wanting to bite someone, but unable to decide whom. She knew he hadn't expected her to move through the routine without a hitch. But she had. Now came the next test: the cockpit.
    "Climb in the first cockpit, Coulter."
    The first seat located behind the prop of the plane was hers. Dana placed her flight log in a leg pocket, pressing the Velcro closed to keep it there. Her heart raced with excitement and nervousness as she climbed on board. To her dismay, her legs were too short to reach the rudder pedals. She felt Griff next to her, and she automatically lifted