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