At His Service: Her Boss the Hero: One Night With Her Boss / Her Very Special Boss / The Surgeon's Marriage Proposal

I don’t do manicures.

Josh turned from where he was fossicking in the fridge. ‘And how about I nuke the leftover chow mein we put in the freezer last week?’

Tama nodded. He wasn’t bothered about what they ate. He was more bothered by how clearly he could hear Mikki’s words echoing in his head. She wasn’t into nail polish. Her hair colour was natural and she liked the size of her breasts. So there!

Tama could feel a corner of his mouth pulling sideways. Spirit like that was something he could approve of. Like the way she had punished herself keeping up with him during those pre-requisite challenges. She had been so determined to make the grade, hadn’t she? To prove she was up to the job.

Had that spirit been snuffed out, along with the glow?

OK, the glow had been irritating but that was partly because he understood it. Not that he’d ever let it show on his face like that. At least, he hoped he hadn’t, but he knew what it was like to get a shot at something you wanted badly enough to get so excited about. And he also knew what it was like to want something that badly and have it all turn to custard. To blame yourself for whatever was going wrong. He hoped Mikki wasn’t into beating herself up too thoroughly. While it might be good to have tarnished the glow a little, crushing that spirit entirely would not only be unnecessary, it could lead to repercussions. What if the boss learned that the princess was unhappy? Who would be held accountable? Him, that’s who.

Josh was pushing buttons on the microwave and Tama should have been looking forward to the food, not standing here, worrying about the mental state of an extra crew member.

The faint growling sound he emitted did not come from his empty stomach.

Josh looked over his shoulder. ‘What’s up?’

‘Just need a bit a fresh air. Be back in a minute. Don’t eat it all.’

Patting his pocket as he strode through the hangar on his way outside was automatic. Remembering that he’d packed in smoking a long time ago didn’t help alleviate the odd tension. Neither did spotting Mikki.

She’d hung her overalls back on the peg and she was just standing there, her back towards Tama. She probably had no idea how the slump of her shoulders was advertising her state of mind as clearly as her expressions did.

Tama’s need for a bit of solitude went head to head with the knowledge that he could—and should—do something to debrief their new recruit. She hadn’t seen him, however. He could slip out the back door and find a quiet spot in the sun for a minute or two.

There would be plenty of time later for some reassurance and encouragement, but Tama had hesitated and then he was lost. With a sigh, he gave in to the pull that led him away from the back door.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

Mikki jumped.

Oh, God! What had she done wrong now?

This day had started with such promise and excitement and now it was going from bad to worse, but she wasn’t about to let Tama know how crushed she was feeling. She really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having his doubts affirmed.

No. She knew that when the going got tough, that was when the tough had to get going. Mikki straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin before she turned to face Tama. She held his gaze and waited for whatever reprimand was coming. Ready to fight back, if necessary.

Her resolve to hold that eye contact wavered with the horrible thought that Tama could see way too much. There was something about those dark eyes that made her feel curiously defenceless. Whatever he saw, however, didn’t seem to displease him because his mouth pulled to one side in a half-smile that was distinctly disconcerting. People didn’t usually smile at you when they were about to tear you to shreds.

‘We tend to leave our overalls on for the rest of the shift after the first callout,’ he said. ‘You never know what’s coming next.’

‘We’. He’d said ‘we’ as though he considered her to be one of the crew. Mikki took a careful inward breath and dampened the flash of hope that tiny word had created. Was he patronising her in some way? Did he really expect her to believe he didn’t consider her an incompetent encumbrance after this morning’s efforts?

Employing the benefit of the doubt would have been the wise thing to do but insecurity was deeprooted. She did do her best to sound offhand, to try and pretend it didn’t matter. ‘I thought you might prefer to leave me behind next time.’

‘Why?’

‘Well …’ He knew, dammit. She could see it in his eyes. Did he expect her to describe her inability to perform a lifesaving procedure? Spell it out in excruciating detail? Mikki could feel heat creeping up from her neck and heading towards her cheeks. ‘I didn’t exactly—’

‘You did great,’ Tama interrupted, sounding as casual as Mikki had been striving for. As though it was no big deal. ‘It was a pretty full-on scene for your first callout.’

He was smiling with both sides of his mouth now and it connected to his eyes in a way that made them … warmer. It gave the impression he was being genuine but kindness seemed too much to expect. Inappropriate, somehow. Mikki could feel herself frowning as she tried to remember what had seemed so important a moment ago.

‘I’d like to have done a better job with that intubation.’

The big man actually shrugged. ‘We got there in the end.’

‘You got there.’

‘I got lucky.’ Unexpectedly, Tama’s eyes danced for a heartbeat. ‘Plus, I knew it was a pig of a job. I went down two sizes in the ET tube.’

Mikki shut her eyes for a moment, both as a distraction from that disconcerting twinkle and to berate herself. Why hadn’t she thought of that for her second attempt? With all the swelling and bleeding going on, it made perfect sense to downsize from what a patient of that build would normally need.

‘Nice job with that IV,’ Tama added. ‘We could have lost that guy if we hadn’t got fluids started soon enough. Tip someone into irreversible shock and it doesn’t matter what fancy techniques you throw in later. They’re still going to go into multi-organ failure and die.’

Mikki couldn’t help staring. He was being nice to her. But why? If she had done outstandingly well the first time they had worked together in the field she might have understood. He hadn’t been thrilled to have her on the team but if she had proved herself a valuable addition then at least acceptance, if not respect, might have been reasonable, but she hadn’t done outstandingly well. Anyone could put in an IV.

Tama was still talking about it. ‘Bit different for you, to say the least. You don’t have someone trapped in awkward positions in ED and a dozen impatient firemen breathing down your neck.’

Her mind was racing at a million miles an hour. Tama was being kind. Glossing over something he could have used to her disadvantage, even to the point of refusing to take her on missions for the foreseeable future. Instead, he was glossing over the failure and focussing on what she had achieved. It came across a bit like someone patting a child on the head and telling them they’d done well just because you could see they’d done their best.

Was it because he was responsible for training her and that schedule had a certain number of boxes to get ticked? And the sooner they were done, the sooner Tama’s involvement would be over? Maybe he didn’t care about the quality of his trainee’s work as much as getting his sentence as a mentor done and dusted.

Still … Mikki dredged up a smile and turned to unhook her overalls from the peg. This was the second chance she wanted, wasn’t it? She couldn’t afford to be over-sensitive about the motives for which it was being offered.

‘Get changed fast,’ Tama advised finally. ‘Lunch is getting cold.’

So that was that. The incident had been discussed and was to be forgotten. Mikki had been on her first callout and was that much closer to becoming an accepted crew member.

Her spirits lifted even further when her training continued after a short meal break. Mikki practised loading and unloading gear from the back of the helicopter. Hooking straps into place and checking they were secure. Easing the foot end of the stretcher into slots where it could be locked into place.

Tama was an excellent teacher. He demonstrated the task to show her what the expected skills were and then he repeated the action slowly, pausing to explain exactly what he was doing and why. Then he showed her again, at normal speed, with just a few key words to remind her of what needed to happen.

‘Unclip here. Slide. Lift. Use your legs, not your back.’

Mikki did her best but had to growl in frustration when it came to the stretcher.

‘My legs are too short. I can’t reach properly.’

‘Bend from the hips to give yourself a longer stretch. Bring one knee up and support yourself on the floor. The knees of the overalls are padded so it’s safe to kneel even at an accident site.’

‘Hey!’ Mikki could reach and push far more easily. She flipped the locking mechanism over the stretcher handle. ‘That worked.’ She beamed.

Tama was watching with what appeared to be an equal measure of satisfaction. With her performance or his advice?

‘Your legs reach the ground,’ he said blandly. ‘Just the right length if you ask me.’

It was just a moment in time. A couple of heartbeats, but it was long enough to feel too long. As though something was being said that had nothing at all to do with the task in hand.