Lindsay McKenna - An Honorable Woman

When she saw the smoldering look in Gus’s eyes, Cam’s mouth grew dry.

The expression in his eyes was clearly readable. He wanted her. In all ways. Swallowing hard, Cam whispered unsteadily, “I—I wish I had the courage to take what you’re offering, Gus, but I don’t….”

Then she turned and walked away, more scared than she’d ever been. Even staring down a Black Shark combat helicopter paled in comparison to facing the desire in Gus’s eyes.

A desire she longed to surrender to. If only she could….

“Lindsay McKenna continues to leave her distinctive mark on the romance genre with…timeless tales about the healing powers of love.”

—Affaire de Coeur

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Michele Burdet of Switzerland, friend, shaman,

healer and inspiration…. I cherish our friendship.

Dear Reader,

I’m proud to introduce Chief Warrant Officer Cam Anderson’s story to you! For those of you who are following the Black Jaguar Squadron, the all-female helicopter team featured in my series MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: DESTINY’S WOMEN, you’ll probably remember Cam from previous books. And even if you haven’t met her yet, I’m sure you will love reading about her adventures, her challenges and her growth as an individual and a woman.

Cam is a combat pilot and a very good one at that. She’s seen combat, had close calls, and, in her most harrowing mission, she crashed a helicopter after it was fired on and hit. She is still struggling to come to terms with this traumatic event when her commanding officer, Major Maya Stevenson, chooses her for an even more daunting mission: Maya asks Cam to become a commanding officer of a small contingent of Apache helicopters stationed in Mexico, just below the border with the U.S.

More than anything, Cam wants to impress her commanding officer—and she wants to atone for the mistakes she believes she made on her last mission. But she learns that it is one thing to be a combat helicopter pilot and completely another to be leader and manager of people—especially a squadron of male pilots, who don’t want to be “bossed around” by a woman. Cam has her work cut out for her and then some! Will she make the grade? She wonders about that—and whether she should give her heart to one of those pilots, Chief Warrant Officer Gus Morales. Gus is too intriguing and charismatic to resist, and Cam finds herself in a battle to maintain her command—and keep her heart safe from being hurt again. Will she be able to salvage her honor on both fronts? Read on and find out!

Warmly,

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

“Hey!” Wild Woman hissed as she stuck her head around the door of the ready room. “Have you heard yet, Cam?”

Cam halted her pacing and quit gnawing on her fingernails, which were almost nonexistent at this point. “Er, no…not yet.” Turning toward the door, she watched as Jessica Merrill, U.S. Army CWO2, otherwise known as Wild Woman, entered the room, dressed in her close-fitting black flight uniform. “You got the duty?”

Cam had had flight duty for the last twenty-four hours and was waiting to be relieved by another crew.

Wrinkling her nose, Wild Woman said, “Yeah. Me and Snake are taking over from you.” Hooking a thumb across her shoulder toward the door of the Quonset hut, which stood inside the massive cavern where the Black Jaguar Squadron had its base of operations, she added, “Snake’ll be along any second now.” Looking at her watch, she uttered darkly, “Geez, 0600 comes so early. What I’d give to have a day off and sleep in. No such thing as ‘beauty sleep’ around here, is there.” She patted her cheek. “I’m still good-looking despite that handicap.”

Chuckling, Cam nodded. Sitting down at the picnic table and picking up her cup of coffee, she said, “Yeah, I know what you mean. But you’re right—we’re such gorgeous girls we don’t need beauty sleep.”

Going to the coffee dispenser that sat on a dark green army-issue desk, Wild Woman laughed. “But isn’t that why you volunteered for this new mission coming up, Cam. So you’d get to sleep in?”

“Oh, sure!” Cam snorted. Running her fingers through her shoulder-length reddish-chestnut hair, she muttered, “I’m on pins and needles. I don’t think I’ll get it.”

“I saw Morgan Trayhern a few hours ago. He just flew in from Agua Caliente, piloted by Storm Queen.” Grabbing a chipped white cup, Wild Woman poured herself some of the strong coffee. “He looked serious.”

“Yeah,” Cam said unhappily, “I saw him. He’s with Major Stevenson and Major York, reviewing the short list of possible pilots for this mission.” Shrugging, Cam watched her colleague walk confidently to the table and sit down opposite her. Jessica had short blond hair with a bright red streak dyed in it. Major Maya Stevenson, commanding officer of the BJS, allowed Wild Woman this unique expression of herself. It went well with her pilot handle, Cam thought with an inward smile. And all you needed to do was take one look at Jessica’s square face and frosty blue eyes filled with feral intelligence to understand why she was one of the best Apache gunship pilots here at the squadron. She was competitive, rebellious, and never afraid to break rules and regulations over the skies of Peru or Bolivia when it came to stopping the drug trade.

“You’ll get it,” Wild Woman said confidently, sipping her coffee.

“I dunno,” Cam muttered worriedly. She gnawed again on her index finger.

“You don’t have any nails left, Cam.”

Chuckling, Cam looked at her fingers, then at her friend. “You’re right about that.”

“You always do that when you’re nervous—No Nails Tree Trimmer!” Jessica chortled.

“Tree Trimmer” was Cam’s nickname. Every pilot got one after graduating from flight school. She’d earned hers by dropping the Huey helicopter she’d been flying into the jungle in Peru. Of course, at the time she was being shot at by a Kamov Black Shark helicopter, piloted by a Russian mercenary hired by a drug lord to shoot her out of the sky.

Feeling heat rush into her cheeks, Cam grinned. “I look forward to the day when I can earn a new and better handle.”

Laughing huskily, Wild Woman turned her head as the creaky door to the ready room opened and closed. “Hey, Snake! My, don’t you look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, girl.”

Snake glared at them as she entered the hut. Pushing her straight, dark brown hair off her shoulders, she headed for the coffee urn. “Shut up. I haven’t had my java yet,” she growled.

“And a dreary good morning to you, too,” Cam murmured, a grin crawling across her mouth. “Depriving Snake of her coffee is like stepping on the rattles of her tail….”

“Yeah, and she bites,” Jessica giggled. “Forget any hissing. This girl just sinks her fangs into you.”

Cam saw that Vickey Mabrey—Snake—was dressed into her combat uniform, too. She was all set for her twenty-four-stint duty with Wild Woman. The Velcro fastening of her uniform collar was open at her throat, exposing the dark green cotton T-shirt she wore beneath. The body-fitting uniform, made of special fire-retardent materials, hugged her tall, lean figure.