The Right Stuff

Now Grayson was getting chummy. The thorn in his side must really be throbbing. His curiosity piqued, Daniel leaned forward. “Is this thorn medically related?”

Grayson made a face. “Not exactly.”

“Are we dealing under the table here?” Daniel bristled. He’d do anything for his superior as long as it wasn’t unethical or against regulations. He was strictly by the book, one of the reasons why he and Taylor had made for such a bad match. She’d been all about breaking the rules.

“No, not really, bending a few rules maybe, but nothing that crosses the line.”

“Tell me,” Daniel said bluntly.

“Let me just say up front that if you successfully pull off this assignment your promotion is practically a done deal. You’ll have my full recommendation to the committee.”

“And if I don’t?”

Grayson shrugged. “Only twenty-five percent of military officers ever achieve the rank of colonel.”

Daniel knew this. He also understood the implication. “I did two tours of duty in a field hospital in the Middle East. I earned a silver star in Afghanistan—”

“And that is the reason why you’ve made it up the ranks as quickly as you have.”

“What do I have to do to make colonel?”

Grayson leaned back in his chair and propped his booted feet on his desk. “One of General Miller’s wealthy VIPs has pledged big contribution money if he’ll grant a favor.”

“Which gets passed down to me.”

Grayson nodded. “That’s the thorn you’ll be pulling out of my side, doctor.”

“Lay it on me.”

“The general’s generous donor wants a backstage pass to our behind-the-scenes action for the next launch of the space shuttle,” he said.

“Meaning?”

“She’s doing research for—”

“She?”

“That’s why I asked you about Sandy. According to the general, his benefactor is young, single, attractive and very rich.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, she runs some kind of sex fantasy resort thing and she’s in the research stages of planning a new one.”

“Like fantasy baseball camp?”

Grayson cleared his throat. “Something like that, except it’s for adults. She wants details on test pilots, flight surgeons and astronauts. I don’t know the full parameters, I’m sure she’ll fill you in.”

An ugly tug pulled at the pit of his stomach. “You gotta be kidding me.”

His superior officer shrugged, gave him an apologetic look. “I wish I was.”

Daniel got to his feet again. “Let me get this straight. You want me to babysit some pampered rich woman who’s running around using our high-tech military space program to fuel her little X-rated sexual fantasies?”

“Believe me, Corben. I’m no happier about it than you are. But if we pull this off to her satisfaction, then she’ll bankroll Miller’s run for the senate. I’ll make brigadier general and my job will be open for you to step in.”

“How long will she be here?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks!”

“A minor inconvenience.” Grayson waved a hand, dismissing his objections as if batting away a fly. “The main thing is to keep her out of trouble.”

“Trouble?”

His superior officer shifted, looked uncomfortable. “She’s got a flamboyant reputation.”

Daniel glowered. “How so?”

Grayson shrugged. “General Miller said something about media controversy involving her last project. Again, I don’t know the details. But we need to keep a tight lid on her visit.”

Daniel blew out his breath, shook his head. “I wish I could help you, sir, but if you recall I’ll be in Moron, Spain, next week on launch day running the TAL disaster drill.”

“I know. That’s the main reason I need you and not anyone else,” Grayson said, smiling for the first time since Daniel had come into the room. “First of all, you’re discreet. Second, it’s the perfect solution. Get her out of the country while seeming to give her what she wants.”

“She’s going to want to be at the Cape for the Atlantis launch, sir, not at some TAL site.”

“Then it’s up to you to convince her it’s better to be at Moron during the launch than here.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re smart and you can be charming. You figure it out.”

“I don’t like this,” Daniel grumbled.

“But you’ll do it?” Grayson’s eyes drilled into him.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Depends on how badly you want my job.”

Daniel glared. “I’ve worked damned hard for this promotion. This isn’t fair.”

“No,” Grayson said glibly. “This is the Air Force.”

TAYLOR MILTON couldn’t stop grinning as she drove her rented silver convertible 911 Turbo Porsche toward Cape Canaveral. General Charles Miller, her late father’s best friend since high school, had come through for her in a big way.

Just thinking about how she was going to have access to top-gun pilots, shuttle astronauts and sexy Air Force flight surgeons sent a shiver of delight down her spine. This in-depth research was bound to make her planned fourth fantasy resort—Out of this World Lovemaking—a smashing success.