The Doctor's Baby Secret. Scarlet Wilson
had been no time for fun, no time for relationships and no time for socialising.
At least that was what she told anyone who asked. It seemed simpler.
She didn’t want pity. Her first experience had been with a guy much older who had treated her badly. She’d learned quickly—the hard way. She’d escaped with a promptly placed bottle to the back of his skull and vowed never to let herself seem vulnerable again. A few years of self-defence classes had taught her everything she needed to know. Everything had to be on her terms. And every relationship after that had been. Trouble was, most guys didn’t like that. And she’d never let herself get truly emotionally involved with any of them.
Now, she had the job of her dreams and the mortgage on a house to match. Who needed a guy? All she needed was a dog.
She folded her arms across her chest as she watched the candidates being briefed at the side of the pool. All candidates were required to complete military water survival before beginning their flying syllabus. They also had to become SCUBA qualified to prepare them for spacewalk training. It was surprising how many of the trainees didn’t realise a large percentage of astronaut training was carried out in water. Apart from the fact that they could land in water after their descent back to earth, working in water, timing their missions to coincide with oxygen supplies and learning about buoyancy were all crucial parts of the training.
This morning’s session was relatively simple. One of the other instructors was briefing them. She was only there to look after anyone that got into difficulties.
‘You’ll be required to swim three lengths of the twenty-five-metre pool without stopping, then swim three lengths dressed in your flight suit and tennis shoes. There’s no time limit but once you’ve completed that you’re required to tread water continuously for ten minutes wearing your flight suit.’
She saw the anxious glances. This test was pretty well known amongst the candidates—she’d be surprised if any of them hadn’t made special arrangements to practise in advance.
The instructor blew his whistle. Almost instantly all the candidates disappeared into the water. Some dives were better than others. Nearly all started in a fast crawl. It didn’t really surprise her that Austin Mitchell was right out there in front. Two others favoured the breaststroke. Austin’s fellow candidate, Michael, matched him stroke for stroke.
She smiled at the competitive edge. It was good. It kept them motivated and on point. They turned in unison and headed back down the pool.
She tried not to stare. A quick glance around told her no one was watching. It was too easy to see the defined muscles in his back and shoulders. The guy had to spend all his spare time in the gym. Which was good. He would need a defined programme for going to space. And it would be her that would design it for him. It was important that all astronaut candidates were at their peak of physical fitness before they left earth.
Space played havoc with the human body. Astronauts suffered from decreased immunity in space, vision changes, where the fine structures of the eye could be affected by the fluid changes in space, a decrease in bone density and a higher ratio of muscle wastage.
She was a doctor. She was employed to assess their physical fitness. So, why had standing at the side of the pool and watching Austin Mitchell walk from the changing rooms made her feel like some kind of voyeur?
He had the kind of sculpted stomach muscles that most men spent their life dreaming of. Did the guy even eat carbs? She’d need to check his diet with him.
Thank goodness he hadn’t been wearing Speedos. The shorts were bad enough.
There was a shout next to her as Austin and Michael emerged from the pool together. The water made his shorts cling to the tight muscles on his thighs and his backside. As he scrambled into his flight suit he glanced over his shoulder directly towards her.
Caught. Well and truly caught. The tiniest flicker of a smile hinted at his lips as he shoved his wet feet into the tennis shoes. The grin had reached from ear to ear before he dived straight back in.
She blew out a breath as the heat rushed into her cheeks. Darn it!
Her eyes swept the pool, checking on all the other candidates. Everyone seemed fine. Speed wasn’t really the issue—even though no one had told those two guys. Completion was the issue. Another instructor was logging times on a tablet near the edge of the pool.
The heat wasn’t abating. She fixed her eyes on another few candidates pulling themselves out of the pool and into their flight suits. She was the doctor. She was supposed to be looking at their bodies. She was supposed to be monitoring them for any difficulties. So why did she feel like a teenage girl caught spying on her hunky next-door neighbour?
She walked over to Bill, who was marking times on the tablet. ‘Quickest time ever—so far,’ he muttered under his breath.
She should be happy that the candidates were performing so well. But because it was Austin Mitchell with his cheeky grin and pert bum it just annoyed her. He and Michael were currently powering up the length of the pool as if they were dressed in just their swimmers. The flight suits and tennis shoes didn’t seem to be causing them any problems at all.
‘Let’s see how good they really are,’ she said quietly. She stepped a little closer to the edge of the pool just as Austin completed his third length one second ahead of Michael and punched the air.
They turned and swam away from the edge, ready to start their ten minutes of treading water. It had been a long time since Corrine had done anything like this. She’d had to tread water in pyjamas for a certificate in high school. Even now she could remember how heavy her legs had felt by the end.
Austin swam straight in front of her, his bright blue eyes reflected back from his blue suit and the surrounding water. With his tan and straight white teeth the guy should be in toothpaste commercials.
Why was it that everything about him drove her crazy?
He was just too much of a know-it-all by half. She glanced at Bill and shot him a conspiratorial smile. ‘You know, Bill, I’ve been thinking. Treading water is fine, but men aren’t always renowned for their multitasking skills—a vital component for an astronaut. I think we should add some brain strain into this assessment.’
Bill laughed. ‘Someone annoyed you today, Dr Carter? Or did they only give you one shot in your coffee this morning?’
Michael and Austin were both treading water in front of her. The guys looked as if they were taking a walk in the park. The flight suits and shoes weren’t hampering them at all.
She gave Bill a nod. ‘Let’s see if these guys can work their muscles and their brains.’
She turned to face the pool again. ‘I know you started reading your mountain’s worth of training manuals. Let’s see how much you’ve taken in.’
Michael shot Austin a look of panic. They’d only been here a few days and the training manuals would take around a year to master.
Austin’s eyes hadn’t moved from hers. This guy rarely seemed rattled.
‘Tell me about the primary robotics system used on the ISS.’
It was a shot in the dark. The majority of her work was purely clinical with a dash of research thrown in. She knew the basics of the other systems but not the details. That was their job, not hers. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t keep them on their toes.
‘We use the mobile servicing system. The Canadarm2. There’s a new one currently in development.’ That rich drawl sent an involuntary tremor down her spine—one she pointedly ignored. Austin was still treading away. There was a glimmer of something in his eyes. He knew he was annoying her. It was almost as if it was deliberate. Like a tiny bug getting under her skin.
‘Tell me about the maintenance required on ISS.’
‘We’ll need much longer than ten minutes,’ quipped Austin. ‘Have you got all night?’
She