One Night With Her Boss

The messroom of the air rescue base lay between the manager’s office, where the walls were covered in maps and communication equipment occupied the space between desk and filing cabinets, and a hangar that housed two state-of-the-art, MBB-Kawasaki BK-117 helicopters. Referred to as simply ‘the mess’, its title was appropriate.

At one end of the large space was an entertainment area with a wide-screen television and comfortable armchairs big enough to sleep in. At the other end, a small kitchen provided facilities for snacks and meals. As usual, the bench space was cluttered with unwashed mugs, milk cartons that hadn’t made it back to the fridge and leftover fast-food containers. The laminated surface of the dining table was virtually invisible thanks to the wealth of emergency medicine journals, memos, magazines and a well spread-out daily newspaper.

Two men were standing on the same side of the table, leaning forward as they perused the front page of the newspaper. A good third of that page was taken up with a photograph that could well win some photography award for the year.

Taken with a high-powered zoom lens from the roadside, the photographer seemed almost level with the chopper and virtually close enough to touch it. Steve was clearly intent on the control panel of the craft. Josh was perched in the side door with both feet on the lower skid, his safety harness pulled tight as he leaned out to take hold of the harness cradling the stretcher.

Tama’s position was elegant. One hand held the pole at the rear of the side hatch, pushing his body and the stretcher holding their patient away from the skids as he positioned the burden. Josh was about to take hold of the head end of the stretcher to guide it into the back of the helicopter.

For some reason, Tama had glanced up as the photograph was taken. Maybe he had been checking the carabina linking the stretcher harness strop to the winch. His expression was serious enough to convey the drama of the moment.

It was also easily recognisable.

Josh dug his colleague in the ribs with his elbow. ‘You’re famous now, mate. The chicks will be queuing up.’

‘Are you suggesting they don’t already?’

Josh snorted but then grinned. ‘At least it’s put you in a better mood today.’

‘Nah.’ Tama straightened and turned towards the bench. ‘I’m in a really bad mood, actually.’

‘Why?’

‘Apparently Princess Mikayla arrives today. Got any red carpet handy?’ Tama opened a cupboard to reveal an empty shelf. With a grimace, he picked up a dirty mug and stepped to the sink.

‘Why?’ Josh repeated. ‘We’re not due for any prerequisite challenges for ages. Isn’t four the minimum number of applicants before we even schedule a course?’

‘This one’s special.’ Tama wrinkled his nose as he emptied long abandoned coffee down the plughole. He turned on the hot tap. ‘I have to babysit from the get-go. Make sure she doesn’t break a single, precious fingernail.’

‘If she’s worried about her nails, she won’t get far with the pre-requisite.’

‘No.’ Tama searched for a teaspoon at the bottom of the sink and sounded far more cheerful. ‘And that way, my friend, lies the light at the end of this tunnel.’

‘You mean, she can’t do the physical assessment until we get enough applicants?’

‘Nah. I’m going to do it with her. I’ll be the assessor and the competition.’

Josh looked thoughtful. ‘You’re not planning to make this assessment impossible to pass by any chance, are you?’

‘Of course not.’ Tama’s expression was innocent. ‘It’s a tough enough call as it stands.’

‘You’re not kidding. The ten circuits of those steep grandstand stairs in less than ten minutes just about did me in.’

‘Then there’s the forty push-ups and forty sit-ups.’

‘The hundred-metre swim and treading water for ten minutes.’

‘And don’t forget the twenty-kilo pack run.’ Tama grinned at Josh. ‘Hey, I’ll just be doing my job. Won’t be my problem if she’s not up to scratch.’

Josh shook his head in warning. ‘Don’t go out of your way to put the boss’s nose out of joint, will you? We’ll all catch the flak if you do.’

Tama spooned coffee granules into his clean mug. ‘The way I see it, I’ll be saving us all a hell of a lot of time and trouble if her highness doesn’t make the grade for any further training.’

Josh sighed. ‘So what you’re really saying is that you’re planning to break her and dump her in one easy move.’

Tama merely raised his eyebrow with a ‘neither confirm nor deny’ expression. Then he turned on his most charming smile. ‘Want a coffee, mate?’

The newspaper cutting was in the back pocket of a rather snug pair of jeans and knowing it was there was making Mikayla Elliot uncharacteristically flustered.

She hadn’t expected to find that her assigned mentor was none other than the hero who had been splashed over the front page of today’s paper.

The image had been impressive enough. That look of ferocious concentration combined with a calm confidence on the face of a man at the pinnacle of a career that had always been a fantasy job for Mikki. It was the whole image that had prompted her to cut the picture out like some starstruck teenager, however. The aircraft, the crew, the patient and—as a blurry backdrop—a wrecked vehicle in hostile terrain.

But it had only been one man’s face that had been visible in the picture and that man was now standing right in front of her. As large as life.

No…larger. Tama James towered over Mikki by at least twelve inches and he was probably twice her body weight.

With no helmet, the slightly too long dark curls of his hair made a luxuriantly soft-looking frame for his face. The dark olive skin and almost black eyes suggested he was a good part Maori and that impression was heightened by the fact that he wasn’t wearing overalls and just below the sleeve of his black T-shirt his upper arm was encircled by an ethnic tattoo that looked like a series of waves between intricate borders.

What would he think if he knew that a picture of himself was currently nestled against Mikki’s right buttock?

The level of disdain she thought she could detect in those dark eyes would go through the roof, that’s what.

‘Sorry?’ Wondering how secure that scrap of folded paper was in her pocket had actually made Mikki miss something Tama was saying.

His look remained level. His face deadpan. As though he had expected nothing less than an inability to concentrate from what he saw in front of him.

Mikki wished she had tied her shoulder-length hair back. Worn something a lot less figure-hugging than the jeans and top she had on beneath her jacket. She wished she was six inches taller and a good deal heavier.

Standing near Tama made her feel weirdly…fragile. Like a doll. Was it because of his size and the aura of power he exuded or was it simply a reflection of what he was seeing?

‘I just asked about your level of fitness.’

‘Oh…’ Mikki cleared her throat. It wasn’t easy to hold eye contact with this man but, dammit, she had to find and hang onto some self-confidence somehow. ‘It’s OK, I guess.’

‘It’ll need to be.’ The other man in this incredibly messy boys’ zone the station manager had brought her to was grinning. At least Josh was friendly. Or was he?

‘The assessment’s a bit of a killer,’ he added. ‘You might want to have a few days in the gym to get ready for it. You should probably—’

Tama quelled his partner’s advice with just a look. ‘My only free day off is tomorrow.’ He turned his gaze back to Mikki. ‘You up for it?’

Mikki stared back. She could see a gleam in his eyes and it wasn’t the kind of gleam she was accustomed to seeing in the eyes of men. This was…smug, that’s what it was.

He didn’t think she had a chance of making the grade.

He thought she was wasting his time.

Any remnants of her smile faded.