U.S. Naval graduate Dana Coulter had one dream: to earn her wings. Yet from the moment she clashed with her handsome new flight instructor, she felt hopelessly grounded. Lieutenant Griff Turcotte bullied, browbeat and awoke a hungry passion in her that was impossible to deny. But the jaded fighter pilot was convinced Dana didn’t have what it took to make it in the tough Navy world. Until the day she risked her life in an act of heroism that captured his heart for all time…
Previously published.
No Quarter Given
Lindsay McKenna
Table of Contents
Prologue
“When a man graduates from Annapolis, he becomes a part of the Brotherhood, an elite group that has made it through the academy. The men who wear this ring take an oath to help their brothers at any time in their naval careers.” Maggie Donovan looked solemnly at her two best friends, Dana Coulter and Molly Rutledge. “We’re three women graduating from Annapolis,” she continued. “We’ve made it. But we’re forming the Sisterhood, a place where women graduates can turn for help and support from other women who have got through the academy.”
Dana held out her small hand, the heavy Annapolis ring looking huge on her slender finger. “Let’s take the vow that from this day on, the Sisterhood is a living entity among the three of us,” she said, her soft voice firm with intent.
Molly placed her slim hand over Dana’s and looked at her friends. “The Sisterhood will start with us, but this is only the beginning. We’ll be there for our sisters who have graduated before us, and for those who will graduate in years to come.”
Maggie reached out her long, slender hand to cover the other two. “Women helping women in a military world ruled by men. I vow to be there for any sister who is an Annapolis graduate. I’ll do what I can to help her in an honorable way.”
“I vow the same thing,” Dana said.
“I vow it also,” Molly whispered.
Maggie placed her free hand over their joined ones, squeezing lightly for a moment. “It’s done,” she said with satisfaction. “The Sisterhood is formed.”
As Dana withdrew her hand, she reminded, “Although we’ve all heard about the Brotherhood, it’s an unofficial organization—it never has been proved to exist or operate within the Navy. I know those who aren’t Annapolis graduates see it as a discriminatory thing. I don’t know about you, but my vow includes any woman in any service I happen to work with. I don’t care whether she’s enlisted or an officer. Women need to support and help each other.”
Maggie stood a moment, digesting her friend’s fervent statement. Then, running a hand through her thick red hair, she grinned. “I like the concept, Dana. Yes, I’ll support the Sisterhood as more than an elitist unit.”
“Maybe,” Molly added, “the three of us can be an example of positive action by women for women. Our actions will speak louder than words.”
Dana grimaced. “We’ve already had four years of harassment by men who didn’t want us going through this military academy. Most of them didn’t believe we could hack it, but we did. Still, I don’t think being a woman Annapolis graduate is going to make things any easier out there. They’ll be expecting us to fail.”
“But we won’t,” Maggie said, her smile widening. “We’re winners. And now we’re all going for the brass ring: our naval aviator wings. Ninety percent of those who try get washed out in the first six weeks of flight school,” she warned.
“The pressure is going to be worse,” Molly agreed. “But a lot of Annapolis officers tried to fail us, and we stuck together and made it through.”
“It won’t be any different at Whiting Field down in Florida,” Dana said determinedly. “We’ll get an apartment together, study together and make it through—together. Just like we did at Annapolis. Women helping women. It’s the future—our future…“
Chapter One
“Look out!” Dana’s cry pierced the crowd of milling people at the Tallahassee airport. She dropped her two bags on the sidewalk, just outside the main doors. A tiny elderly woman, wearing a beige dress that hung nearly to her ankles, approached the multiple lanes of unrelenting traffic. Her thick glasses had slid down her nose, and she felt her way with a wooden cane, tapping it along the curb as she prepared to step off. Although Dana weighed barely more than a hundred pounds herself, she managed to wedge between two businessmen and lurch ahead toward the woman. Her cane poised, the little steel-grey haired lady was on the verge of stepping forward.
Dana shouted another warning, but the woman didn’t seem to hear. Desperate now, her mouth tightening, Dana extended her short stride. Her eyes widened when suddenly a young man with long, unkempt brown hair jerked the old woman’s purse from her shoulder, as she still tottered uncertainly on the curb.
The woman gave a startled cry, trying to hold on to her handbag, but the young man yanked it from her savagely, flinging the tiny lady to the concrete sidewalk. Damn him! Anger surged through Dana. No way in hell was the purse snatcher going to get away. Not if she could help it.
If she’d had time to consider her reaction, Dana might ruefully have shaken her head. But her response now was the same as it had been so many years ago when her father beat up on her mother and herself. Dana tensed the small shoulders that had carried so many burdens in silence for twenty-two years. This man was no different from her father. He had the same insane look on his face, the same dark and wild eyes. Probably on drugs and needing a fix, he’d picked on the weakest, most likely victim. And wasn’t it always a woman—whether child, adult or elderly person—being abused by a man?
Although the thief was at least six foot three and built like a center for a football team, Dana put herself in a direct collision course with him. Her eyes narrowing, she monitored the culprit’s sudden