Читать книгу At His Service: Her Boss the Hero: One Night With Her Boss / Her Very Special Boss / The Surgeon's Marriage Proposal - Алисон Робертс - Страница 6

JUST a couple of hours. Maybe not sweet but at least short.

‘Sorry. You certainly gave it your best shot and I have to say I’m a lot more impressed than I expected to be, but there’s a good reason this pre-requisite is tough.’

Tama twisted the shower control and turned to eye his face in the bathroom mirror while the water heated up. Just as well he lived alone at the moment, the way he was talking aloud to himself like this.

Rehearsing.

He picked up a razor but then took a second glance in the mirror. A day’s worth of stubble might not be a bad look for today. Rugged.

A man who cared about things more important than appearances.

A man who meant business.

Tama abandoned the razor, using the mirror to try and perfect a sympathetic smile that was less of a smirk.

‘You can always try again some time. When you feel ready.’

The smile was quite genuine as he stepped into the shower. It was well worth giving up half of one of his precious free days to rid himself of the irritating burden Princess Mikayla represented.

There was no smile on his face an hour later, however.

The vast sports stadium on the outskirts of the city had more than a few fitness freaks intent on an early workout but the areas Tama needed were deserted. Maybe that was why the appearance of Mikayla Elliot seemed dramatic.

He was sitting on one of the lower tiers of steep seating at one end of an Olympic-sized diving pool. Directly opposite the double doors that led to the women’s changing area. Had she really needed to push both doors to announce her entrance?

And how could someone as tiny as this little princess appear to have such shapely legs? He’d noticed it yesterday in those tight jeans she’d been wearing. You’d think that Lycra bike shorts would have cut them off and made them look stumpy but, no … she may be small but she was perfectly proportioned.

At least the baggy T-shirt she had on right now was covering those intriguingly compact breasts that yesterday’s top had accentuated. Sad, really. If he’d met this woman under any other circumstances he would have found her more than passably attractive, but anything other than a very brief professional encounter was definitely not on the cards. Tama doubted that Mikki would want to speak to him again after this morning.

His nod of approval was in recognition of the sensible trainers she had on her feet and the way she had scraped back that silly cloud of blonde curls that begged for a tiara rather than a flying helmet. Her hair was tight in a band high on the back of her head and the length had been tightly plaited.

Mikki’s face looked just as pinched as she walked towards Tama with no hint of hesitation in her step. She dropped a bag on a seat below him, extracted a water bottle and towel and then smiled up at him, albeit a trifle grimly.

‘OK. What’s first?’

‘See that staircase on the other side of these seats?’ The almost vertical one. Big steps. Twenty of them. ‘Yep.’

‘You run up, along the front of the top row of seats and down the steps on the other side. Along the front by the pool and then up again.’

‘Cool.’ She was warming up. Bouncing slowly onto her toes and down again to wake up her Achilles tendons. Stretching her shoulders at the same time and taking deep breaths to pre-oxygenate herself. Looking disconcertingly ready to fire herself into the task like a bullet from a gun.

The enthusiasm might be commendable but it was irritating. Did she really think she could do this? Most guys, including Tama, found it a challenging workout. She’d last five circuits, tops.

‘The goal is ten circuits in under ten minutes,’ he told her.

She eyed a chunky sports watch she was wearing and pushed a button, presumably putting it into stopwatch mode. Then she eyed the grandstand, her gaze travelling as though memorising the route and assessing the timeframes needed.

She wasn’t stupid, then. Anyone else might have earned a mental tick for being able to look at the big picture before tackling the first stage. In this case, Tama wasn’t prepared to concede any points.

‘Plus …’ He eased himself to his feet. ‘You’re not doing it by yourself.’

‘What?’ The plait on the back of Mikki’s head swung as she looked over her shoulder. ‘Someone else is coming?’

‘No.’

Dammit! The way she stayed silent in the face of confusion, a tiny frown puckering her forehead as she waited for clarification, was also commendable. She wasn’t about to jump to erroneous conclusions. And that look would extract the necessary information from anyone. There was an air of authority about this pint-sized princess. She was used to ruling her subjects. Tama hid a grin. He wasn’t one of them.

‘I’m doing it with you.’ He stripped off the hooded jacket he was wearing. He knew the black singlet top did nothing to conceal the kind of physical condition he kept himself in but intimidation was a legitimate tool, wasn’t it? He owed it to any candidate to make sure they gave their best performance.

The flicker he saw in Mikki’s eyes as they widened was certainly gratifying.

‘I thought you were doing the assessment.’

‘Correct.’ Tama deliberately flexed his upper body muscles in a slow stretch. ‘It’s quite possible to do both.’

‘Right.’

She looked disconcerted. Used to being the focus of attention rather than a team member? A mental cross this time instead of a tick. Good. Tama held her gaze.

‘Normally we don’t run an assessment unless we’ve got at least four people ready to try out for the team.’

‘So why am I doing it by myself?’

Tama’s smile was one-sided. ‘I guess you’re special.’ He twisted his body, elbows raised, partly to stretch but more to avoid eye contact. It would be unprofessional to mention her father and strings being pulled and, besides, if he got started, he might go too far. Might tell her what it was like to be one of twelve children—included but never really belonging. Fighting for any of the good things life had to offer. Struggling to get the kind of chances people like her had handed to them on silver platters.

A careful breath and he was under control. ‘It helps to have someone else sharing the suffering,’ he said more lightly. ‘And it can make a difference, having a bit of competition. We’re often pushed to or even beyond physical limits in this job.’

A single nod. ‘You’ve done this before, of course.’

‘Many times.’ Tama conceded the advantage. ‘But this is an initial evaluation, not a race. I don’t expect you to have the kind of fitness level we maintain once we’re in the job.’ He didn’t expect her to have much at all, did he?

She hadn’t broken the eye contact. ‘And you’ve been in the job how long?’

‘Coming up to ten years.’

‘And you do this kind of training how often?’

‘We get reassessed every six months.’

She finally looked away, towards the cliff face of concrete steps. Then she stripped off the T-shirt to reveal a singlet top that clung just as tightly as Tama’s did. He had to drag his eyes away from the faint outline of her ribs and the firm, perfect curves of her breasts. The size of good oranges, he decided.

Nice. His gaze flicked back involuntarily as he caught the movement a deep breath engendered. Fortunately, Mikki didn’t notice his line of vision. She was looking at the steps.

‘Ready when you are.’

If anything was going to kill her, this was.

The first five circuits had been OK. No more daunting that her usual park sessions, really, but then the punishing regime began to bite.

At least the man beside her was panting as hard as she was and his face was set in fierce lines of concentration.

Six circuits. Seven. Mikki knew she was slowing down but a glance at her stopwatch showed she had four minutes left. She dug deep. Visualised herself wearing the bright orange overalls of a helicopter crew member. Told herself they were climbing a mountain to get to a seriously injured patient.

Eight circuits. Nine. It hurt to suck in a breath now and she would probably be able to collect several hundred mils of fluid if she wrung out her hair and clothing. A sheen of sweat glistened on the rippling muscles ahead of her. Mikki watched the bulge of Tama’s quads as he climbed step after step. She tried to force her own legs to match his rhythm.

She came very close to calling it quits on the upward leg of the last circuit. Halfway up and each step was so hard all Mikki wanted to do was melt into a puddle of overextended body parts. Preferably lose consciousness until life seemed worth living once more.

Just a few more steps, she reminded herself fuzzily. Then the straight bit and down the other side and you’ve made it. He’ll be watching. He’ll be impressed.

And that was enough to be able to do what seemed impossible. To keep pushing. To arrive at the end of this first test only a few seconds behind her assessor.

Did it matter that she flopped to the ground to sit on her bottom with her knees raised, her arms crossed on top of them and her head using them as a pillow? It must have been nearly a minute before Mikki had recovered enough for the roaring in her head to cease and she could raise it to see the expression on Tama’s face.

Admiration.

Grudging maybe, but unmistakable.

Yes!

Mikki managed a smile. ‘What’s next, then?’ He actually grinned. ‘No stopping you, is there, princess?’

It was a big ask to catch totally inadequate breath and glare at the same time but Mikki gave it a good shot.

‘Princess?’

He had the grace to look … what, guilty? How odd.

‘I work with blokes. We’re into nicknames.’

Mikki digested the comment. He didn’t want a woman on the team—was that what he had against her? Fair enough. She could overcome that kind of prejudice if she was given the opportunity.

‘What’s yours, then?’

‘My what?’

‘Nickname.’

‘Don’t have one.’ Tama raised his face from the towel he was holding and frowned. ‘Actually, I’d never noticed. I’m just me, I guess.’

Yeah …

Mikki copied his example, mopping perspiration from her face and neck. Drinking water and flexing muscles ready for the next challenge. Her gaze kept straying, however. Peeking. Taking in the fairly wellexposed and absolutely ripped body of her companion. His height and the width of his shoulders. Good grief, Tama James could probably pick her up with one hand and tuck her under his arm.

And why did that thought create an odd ache that had absolutely nothing to do with the strenuous physical activity her body had just been subjected to?

OK, he was attractive.

More than attractive. His face, with such strong features and eyes as dark as sin, would have made any female take a second glance. Factor in the ‘just got out of bed’ stubble, that glorious olive skin and that tattoo and you got a package that was so far out of any realm Mikki had experienced it was hardly surprising she was intrigued.

Plus, he was a hero in her dream career. Top of the ladder. There was automatic respect and admiration in place.

‘You’re staring.’ The tone was accusing.

‘Sorry.’ At least her face was probably red enough to cover a blush. ‘I’ve never worked with anyone who has, um, a tattoo like yours, that’s all.’

‘You’re not working with me,’ Tama said coolly. ‘Yet. You ready for the next bit?’

‘You mean I passed the last one?’ The reminder that she couldn’t consider herself a colleague needled Mikki. She couldn’t resist making him remember how she’d kept up with his own efforts. Or had he slowed down for her benefit?

He was avoiding her gaze. ‘All good so far,’ he said calmly. ‘Heaps to get through yet, though.’

Mikki smiled. ‘Bring it on.’

Dammit, but this small, blonde bombshell was like the bloody battery bunny. She just went on and on. Through the press-ups and the sit-ups that Tama did at a speed that made his whole body burn. She seemed to enjoy the cooling-off the hundred-metre swim provided and treading water for ten minutes looked like a rest period.

If he couldn’t crack her with the pack run, there was no way out of this babysitting lark.

Curiously, the notion of sending the princess packing was not nearly as appealing as it had been first thing this morning.

‘Tell me why,’ Tama ordered as he handed her the small backpack with a twenty-kilogram weight inside. ‘Why do you want to join a helicopter team?’

‘Preparation. I want to add the skills to my CV.’

‘To what end?’

‘MSF. Mèdecins San Frontiéres.’

‘I know what it is.’ Tama shook the incredulous expression from his face. ‘I’ve thought about it myself.’ He slid his arms through his pack straps. ‘You’re talking global hotspots. Third-world conditions. War zones.’

‘Think I’m not up to it?’

Man, there was a bit of fire in there! Tama liked that. Sparks kept things hot.

‘Didn’t say that. Just curious as to why you’d want to.’

‘Maybe I’m an adrenaline junkie.’

‘Are you?’ Thrill seekers who might take unnecessary risks and endanger other team members were not welcome on Tama’s watch.

Mikki shook her head dismissively. ‘I know the value of staying alive, if that’s what you’re getting at. I was in a major car crash when I was sixteen. Got a good look at what it would be like not to survive and I don’t plan on repeating the experience.’

Tama nodded acknowledgement. He was tempted to ask more but that would be hardly professional, would it? He had no excuse to stray onto personal ground.

Yet.

‘Having said that,’ Mikki continued, ‘I’m not exactly a shrinking violet either, and when I heard that MSF were short of doctors, I put my hand up.’

Tama’s thoughts had been veering towards sympathy for Sir Trevor Elliot who probably had good reason to be concerned about his daughter’s safety. They slammed to a halt.

‘You’re a doctor?’

‘What did you think I was?’

Tama’s mouth opened and then closed. Opened again. Preconceptions were exploding somewhere in the back of his mind, pretty dresses and low IQs among them. ‘They … ah … said you worked in an emergency department, that’s all. I … ah …’

‘Assumed I was a nurse? A phlebotomist? Desk clerk?’ Mikki gave an incredulous huff and turned away. ‘Let’s get this over with, shall we? I’ve got a manicure booked for later today.’

She had to reach out and touch it just to convince herself it was real and not part of a dream.

It was hanging at the end of a row of hooks. A bright orange set of long-sleeved overalls with horizontal fluorescent strips below the elbows and knees and the official air rescue insignia on the front.

‘Had to be specially ordered in,’ Josh told her. ‘Smallest size they’ve ever been asked for.’

‘They were quick. It’s only been three days since I passed the pre-requisite.’ Mikki stole a glance at the lead member of her mentor crew but Tama was looking at his partner.

‘What was it they asked? If we had a mouse joining the crew?’

‘Hey … Mickey Mouse!’

Oh … no! Surely that awful nickname that she thought she’d left behind at primary school wasn’t about to resurface?

‘Mouse,’ Tama echoed thoughtfully. ‘Hmm. Small and very …’

Mikki gave him a look. If he dared suggest she was scared of anything, he was going to regret it.

His lips curved. For the first time Mikki saw genuine amusement in his face and it came alive, with sparks of real mischief in the dark depths of his eyes. And, boy, he knew exactly what he was doing here. Did he have the intelligence to recognise limits?

‘And smart,’ he said innocently. ‘Perfect.’ His smile took on a wicked edge that warned Mikki he wasn’t conceding victory quite yet. She followed his gaze as it travelled to where her hand was unconsciously stroking the fabric of her shiny new overalls.

‘Just like your nails,’ he added. ‘Good job.’

Mikki drew in a breath. Some limits might need neon signs.

‘Just for the record,’ she informed him, ‘I do not get manicures. My hair colour is natural and I have no intention of ever getting a boob job. Satisfied?’

His eyes widened a fraction but there was a flash of something other than feigned submission as he held his hands up, palms outward. Either he approved of her standing up for herself or he thought there was nothing wrong with the size of her breasts.

Mikki looked away. Tama might not be satisfied but she was. Enough to call a private truce. She’d let them get away with calling her ‘Mouse’ if that’s what it took to join this team.

It still seemed like a dream but those overalls were real. She bit back a grin as she finally stopped touching them. It should be enough that she was wearing the black pants and T-shirt with the base insignia. That she had the heavy black boots with steel-capped toes on her feet already.

‘What happens today?’ Mikki queried.

‘Depends,’ Tama responded unhelpfully.

‘On?’

‘Callouts,’ Josh supplied. He gave his partner an unreadable look but Mikki suspected a friendly reprimand was included. ‘If it’s quiet, Tama’s going to start your basic training.’

‘Cool.’

‘Yeah.’ Tama didn’t seem to be sharing her enthusiasm, however. ‘There’s a lot to get through.’

‘Such as?’

‘Procedures. How to use the paging system. Map reading. Basic chopper safety. Gear …’

Josh groaned. ‘Speaking of gear, I’ve got to get on with the stockroom check and clean up. It’s a mess thanks to how busy we’ve been. Want to swap, Tama? I could train Mouse.’

Mikki’s gaze flew to catch Tama’s.

Those undercurrents in her pre-requisite assessment had been unmistakable. He hadn’t thought she was a suitable candidate. He’d almost given the impression of experiencing physical pain when he’d had to tell her she’d passed and would be allowed to join the team for further training.

And then he’d gone. Just turned on his heel and left. It had been the station manager, Andy, who’d called her later to congratulate her and provide the information needed for the next stage, which had included arrangements for her uniform and other necessities.

Now Tama had the opportunity to step back. To give away the mentorship he’d been assigned. Was it permissible? Would he want to? Her gaze remained riveted on Tama’s and it was the paramedic who finally broke the eye contact.

‘Nah,’ he drawled. Had the decision been a close call? ‘I hate that paperwork that goes with a stocktake. I’ll keep the mouse.’

Mikki had to stop an outward rush of breath. Had she been holding it? Why?

Because Tama was the senior crew member here, in every way, that’s why. Josh was a nice guy and probably extremely competent but Tama’s aura of confidence and ability and sheer … power was palpable.

This was the man Mikki wanted to work with despite whatever he might think of her.

And she wanted to work with him as closely as possible.