No Quarter Given. Lindsay McKenna
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who was very sure of himself. For an instant the desire to open her eyes and simply watch him was nearly overwhelming. And then she laughed at herself. The last time she’d been drawn to a man, she’d allowed his lies to become her reality. Jason Lombard had been a smooth talker, and she’d fallen beneath his spell.
Mired in the memory of her mistake with Jason, Dana blotted out everything else. Time ceased to exist as she remembered her one-and-only affair, during her third year at Annapolis. Jason had been an upperclassman, ready to graduate from the prestigious military academy. Her roommates, Molly and Maggie, had warned her about him, but she hadn’t listened. Later, after spending Christmas with his parents, Dana had accidentally discovered the awful truth: Jason had bet his buddies that he could lay Dana. They’d called her Ice Woman at the academy. He wanted to see if ice water really did run in her veins. Jason had been the first man Dana had ever slept with. He’d seemed so different from the men she knew; so different from her father. The bitter truth was, they were all alike. They took what they wanted from innocent, trusting women.
No more. The words pounded in her head in sync with her thudding heart. Dana slowly released the pressure from the bridge of her nose and lowered her head. Her nosebleed had stopped. Resting her brow against her drawn-up knees, she felt the shattered emotions still warring within her. She was positive her eye would blacken. My God, she had to report to Whiting Field tomorrow morning as a student pilot! What would her instructor think? Worse, would her eye swell closed? She needed both eyes to learn to fly.
Women Annapolis graduates were few and far between, and those who passed the rigorous tests to get a chance to earn their wings were even rarer. Dana knew she and her two roommates wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms at Whiting. Most of the men saw women as taking flight slots that rightfully belonged to them. Now Dana would be standing at attention tomorrow morning with a black eye—a hell of a welcome to Whiting Field and pilot training.
Dana felt a strong hand settle on her shoulder. She stiffened, jerking her head up. It was him. The man who had helped her. The eagle. His fingers were long and tapered, his grip gentle but firm on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
His voice flowed through the chaos of her thoughts. Dana blinked, unable to tear her gaze from his wonderfully warm gray eyes. Her heart opened, receiving his concern. When she didn’t answer right away, Dana felt his fingers tighten imperceptibly on her shoulder. He lifted his other hand, and instinctively she winced.
“Take it easy,” Griff soothed, barely caressing the woman’s mussed black hair. He saw the sudden fear in her eyes. She was jumpy. Managing a slight, one-cornered smile, he added, “My name’s Griff. That was a hell of a tackle, lady.”
“Dana.” He was too close, too overwhelmingly masculine. Her heart was beating even more wildly, his touch dissolving her defenses.
Griff dug into the back pocket of his jeans. “I thought I had a handkerchief,” he muttered apologetically. “Oh, here it is.” He pressed the clean linen into her hands.
“Th-thank you.” A part of Dana wanted desperately to fall into the shelter of his arms. The injured-animal part of her tasted panic, layered with suffocating fear.
“I couldn’t believe you did that.” Griff gently laid his hand on her forearm, turning it over. The flesh had been scraped away. “The ambulance is on its way. Just hang on.”
Dana’s black humor always surfaced in a crisis. Her lips curved into a wry twist that could be misconstrued as a grimace. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had a black eye,” she offered. “Don’t worry about me. What about the old woman? Could you go see how she is? Please?”
Griff wavered. Dana was small and ultrafeminine, but he felt the smooth firmness of muscle beneath the flesh of her arm. The fear shadowing her azure eyes hadn’t ebbed. Why? She was safe now. He knew he had a craggy face, with features that were harsh and unforgiving, but she was reacting as if he were threatening rather than helping her.
“Well—”
“Please, she needs help. Go to her. I’ll be fine.” Did Griff hear the desperation in her tone? Dana wondered as she pulled her arm from his hand. She saw the puzzlement in his eyes. His lips parted to say something, but he changed his mind.
“Okay. But you stay put. Understand? You’re in no condition to go anywhere.”
A hysterical giggle clawed up Dana’s throat as he eased to his feet. If Griff had seen her after her father had gotten done with her, he’d have thought she was dying. A couple of times her mother had taken her to the hospital emergency room. When Griff halted and half turned toward her, Dana muttered, “I won’t go anywhere.”
Ordinarily she’d have resented a man’s order. At Annapolis, especially as a plebe, she’d had to take plenty of stupid, inane orders from upperclassmen bent on driving her out of the academy. Then, as now, she tucked the resentment deep within her. The worry in Griff’s eyes was genuine, if she was any judge of the situation. But her track record with men had always been poor, so she feared she could have misread his intent. Still, her heart wanted to accept that Griff was concerned about her welfare.
Griff crouched by the old woman who was shakily putting her glasses back on. Speaking quietly, he placed his hand on her. Dana’s face hovered before him. Automatically, he looked over his shoulder. A police officer was kneeling next to Dana, taking a report. She looked disheveled and in need of some care. Internally, Griff chastised himself. He’d gotten out of divorce court only six months ago. Carol, his ex-wife, had appeared strong and capable. But during the five years of their disastrous marriage, Griff had discovered his wife was a clinger, not a woman who could stand on her own two feet as his equal. Carol had fooled him completely. Sensing what he’d wanted, she’d become that for him while they were dating. He was a brash, cocky, fighter pilot who’d earned his wings out of Annapolis. Carol, an only child from a banking family, had fallen in love with his image; he ’d fallen in love with her facade.
Disgusted with himself, Griff forced himself to look away from Dana. She had the face of an angel, with eyes the color of the sky he loved to fly in. And that mouth of hers… Groaning to himself, Griff wondered if the adrenaline flow was making him unusually responsive to her. Hadn’t he learned his lesson about being drawn to women too quickly?
The police officer rose, giving Dana a hand to her feet. She brushed off the seat of her pants. A young woman came up, offering her a Kleenex for her bloody forearm. Quietly thanking her, Dana looked up at the officer.
“May I go now?”
“We’ve got your address, Ms. Coulter. When and if Mrs. Biddle presses charges against this guy, we’ll be in touch.”
“Okay.” Dana looked past the policeman. Griff was being kept busy by the other officer, who was taking his report.
“Look, you sure you’re okay? The ambulance will be here in just a minute. Maybe you ought to go to Emergency and get checked over. That’s quite a shiner you’ve got in the making.”
Forcing a slight smile for the officer’s benefit, Dana said, “I’ll be fine.” Then she disappeared into the crowd. Right now, all she wanted was to escape Griff’s gray, eagle gaze. Her instincts told her he wanted to be sure she was all right. Dana wavered between disbelief and fear that a man honestly could be concerned about her. She picked up her luggage and hailed a taxi, ignoring the stunned look of the driver. Collapsing in the back seat, she gave the cabbie the address where her roommates, Maggie and Molly, awaited her.
Dana ignored the pain it cost her to sit forward and look across the crowd. Griff stood tall and straight, his shoulders thrown back with natural pride—an eagle among a bunch of chattering blackbirds, Dana thought tiredly. As she sank back again, closing her eyes, his gray eyes haunted her heart. Her tightly coiled emotions begged to explode outward in a sob. Suddenly Dana realized just how tired she was—a kind of bone-deep exhaustion that frightened her more than men did.
She ignored the sunny April weather, the humidity, and the tropical foliage that lined the wide boulevards. Coming