One Night With Her Boss. Alison Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 well- exposed 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 СКАЧАТЬ