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At His Service:
Her Boss the Hero
One Night
With Her Boss
Alison
Roberts
Her Very
Special Boss
Anne
Fraser
The Surgeon’s
Marriage Proposal
Molly
Evans
One Night With Her Boss
About the Author
ALISON ROBERTS lives in Christchurch, New Zealand. She began her working career as a primary school teacher, but now juggles available working hours between writing and active duty as an ambulance officer. Throwing in a large dose of parenting, housework, gardening and pet-minding keeps life busy, and teenage daughter Becky is responsible for an increasing number of days spent on equestrian pursuits. Finding time for everything can be a challenge, but the rewards make the effort more than worthwhile.
CHAPTER ONE
‘I WON’T do it.’
‘Won’t do what? Hey, wait up, Tama!’
Tama James covered his head with a determined shove of his helmet. He scowled at his partner, Josh, as he swung himself into the rescue helicopter waiting for them on the tarmac, its rotors already turning.
‘I just won’t do it and that’s that.’
‘Nice attitude, mate.’ The chopper pilot, Steve, grinned at Tama. ‘I’ll just radio ahead and let the cops know so they can tell that poor blighter in the car that’s rolled off the hill, shall I?’
‘I’m not talking about the job.’ Tama snapped his safety belt on.
Josh clicked his microphone into place. ‘He’s talking about whatever just went down in the station manager’s office. You should’ve seen his face when he came out of that meeting.’
Steve requested clearance, got the helicopter airborne and quickly turned onto a flight path that would lead them to the accident site—their fifth and hopefully last callout for the day.
‘What aren’t you going to do, then?’ he asked a couple of minutes later.
Tama made a growling sound that was magnified by the communication channel built into their helmets.
‘Babysitting,’ he said disgustedly.
‘I don’t get it.’ Josh sounded puzzled. ‘Weren’t you having a meeting with the boss and Trev Elliot?’
‘Sir Trevor?’ Steve whistled. ‘Doesn’t he own the finance company that funds this rescue service?’
‘Yes on both counts,’ Tama responded gloomily.
‘So what’s that got to do with babysitting?’
‘Sir Trevor has a daughter.’ Tama made the word sound like an unfortunate encumbrance. ‘One who’s decided she likes the idea of joining our service.’
‘And?’
‘And we’re not that far from Broken Hills.’ Tama clicked the mouse on his laptop. ‘I’ll check the GPS co-ordinates for the incident.’
‘Not required,’ Steve told him. ‘I can see beacons.’ He banked the helicopter into another turn. ‘Police, fire service and ambulance are already on site, they just can’t bring the victim up from the vehicle.’
They circled over the scene. A car had left the road and lay, upside down, several hundred metres from any kind of level surface. It was good for the helicopter crew that there were no trees on the hillside but the car must have been travelling at a good speed by the time it had hit the rocky outcrop, which wasn’t so good for the occupant. Emergency service personnel had scrambled down the hillside but it was obvious that conditions were tricky.
Tama pushed thought of Sir Trevor’s daughter from his head.
‘Definitely a winch job,’ he announced. ‘No way anyone could carry a stretcher up that hill.’
‘And we’re well over thirty minutes’ drive from the nearest hospital.’ Josh was also peering downwards as they hovered. ‘Nappy or stretcher for the winch?’
‘Let’s find out.’ Tama changed radio channels to put him in touch with the ground ambulance crew. ‘Update on status and injuries?’ he requested.
‘Open fracture of the femur. Chest and abdo injuries.’
‘Status?’
‘Two. His breathing’s painful, though. A few broken ribs at least. BP’s down. Moderate blood loss—he wasn’t found for a while. We’ve got fluids up, pain relief on board and a traction splint in place.’
‘Excellent. We’ll be with you asap.’ He didn’t need to confer with Josh to decide that a stretcher was necessary. It might be a lot quicker and easier to pick someone up with a nappy harness but this victim’s injuries were too severe to make that an option.
Steve had widened his circle as Tama was talking. ‘We can put down here and empty the back,’ he said. ‘The less weight the better with the way this wind’s picking up.’
Emergency-vehicle beacons twinkled from a distance as the light faded and Steve put the helicopter down on a nearby hill. Tama and Josh worked swiftly to remove the fitted stretcher, seats and any equipment not needed for the initial stages of this rescue mission. The more weight on board, the higher the risk of being caught in a downdraft. Dropping a hundred feet or more when you had a patient on a stretcher and a crew member dangling from the aircraft would be a disaster.
The task completed, Tama checked his gear and winch harness and climbed into his new position in the back of the chopper, ready for Josh to winch him down to the accident scene. Thanks to treatment already given by paramedics, there was no need to ready the trauma pack for deployment.
‘Ninety seconds,’ Steve commended as they lifted off again. ‘Not bad!’
Tama’s quick glance and raised eyebrow at Josh was a shorthand ‘thumbs-up’ signal. They were a slick team all right, and a lot of that efficiency came from a combination of experience and physical strength.
Neither of which Trevor Elliot’s daughter would possess.
The mental tug back to that extraordinary interview was not only annoying, it refused to get entirely banished and niggled away in the back of Tama’s mind.
‘Turning downwind,’ Steve announced.
‘Roger. Secure aft.’ Josh had checked the winch was operational. He was ready for the job. More than ready. Tama could almost see an aura of adrenaline around his colleague.
‘I have the target.’ He glanced at Tama and, satisfied his crewmate was as ready as he was, he turned to the winch control panel. ‘Checking winch power.’
On this final run, there shouldn’t have been any time at all to think outside the protocol. He’d done this a hundred times or more. Stepping into an arctic blast of air. Bracing himself. Leaning out—knowing how much space there was between his back and the ground below.
‘Clear skids,’ Josh confirmed. ‘Clear to boom out.’
‘Clear.’
Tama relaxed into his harness as the weight was taken and he got lowered to just below the skids.
The lightweight stretcher between his legs obscured his vision of what lay below. For now, he was totally dependent on Josh and Steve for his position and safety.
His own adrenaline levels kicked up several notches. He turned inwards to summon the calm strength that never failed him. This was no job for anyone who couldn’t face the fear and do it anyway.
He wouldn’t go as far as to say it was no job for a woman but she’d have to be an exceptional specimen.
Trevor Elliot’s daughter?
A princess whose bra size probably exceeded her IQ? Not a snowball’s chance in hell.
Dusk was a favourite time for fitness enthusiasts to hit the circuit built into the outskirts of Hagley Park in Christchurch.
Swinging from the rungs of a horizontal ladder—her feet well off the ground—was a slim woman with a determined expression on her face and curly blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail damp with perspiration.
‘Give it a break, Mikki.’ A man stood to one side of the structure, bent forward, with his hands on his thighs as he tried to catch his breath. ‘This is embarrassing.’
Mikki hung on the last rung for a moment. She grinned down at her running companion and then refocussed, sucking in a breath and then expelling it as she pulled her body upwards. Once … twice … The burn in muscles in her arms and shoulders increased to real pain. Once more for luck and then she dropped to the ground, bending her knees to cushion the impact.
‘Ready, slug?’
The man groaned but caught up with Mikki’s steady jog as she continued along the track, past runners going in the opposite direction, cyclists heading home from work and the slower obstacles of people walking their dogs.
‘There’s no stopping you, is there?’
Mikki had taken another detour a few minutes later, to use fat stumps of wood as stepping blocks.
‘Not today, that’s for sure. I’m so excited!’
‘Yeah … I noticed.’
‘We can do our stretches now.’
‘Hallelujah!’
They shared the massive trunk of an ancient oak tree for support. Mikki bent one leg up behind her and held it to stretch her quads.
‘I still can’t believe it, John. They’re going to let me have a go at joining air rescue. Choppers!’
‘So you’ve said. More than once.’ The admonition was tempered with a fond tone. ‘Good luck. Not that you’ll need it.’
‘I don’t know about that.’ Mikki swapped to her other leg. ‘The pre-requisite physical assessment is tough enough to wipe out well over half the people who apply and I’ve never even heard of a female that’s made it through.’
‘If anyone can, you can.’ John was stretching his Achilles tendon now. ‘Damn shame it means you have to shift north, though. We’ll miss you.’
‘I’ll miss you guys, too, but this is … this is huge for me, John. This is what I’ve wanted ever since … Good grief, do you know I started dreaming about this when I was sixteen? Twelve years ago!’ Mikki couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. ‘And I’ve made it. Isn’t it great?’
‘You really want to give up being an emergency department doctor to work as a paramedic? In helicopters?’
‘I would have gone straight into the ambulance service instead of medical school, you know, but Dad wouldn’t hear of it. He wasn’t exactly happy when I told him I wanted to join Médecins Sans Frontières either. He’s going to hit the roof when he finds out the kind of frontline training I’m going to do for the next few months.’
‘Will he try to stop you?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Mikki put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her elbow to extend the stretch. ‘I reckon I’ve finally convinced him how important my career is to me. He can’t wrap me in cotton wool for ever.’
‘From what I’ve heard, your dad can do anything he likes. Hey, doesn’t his company practically own air rescue services up north?’
‘One of them funds the service, yes.’ A frown appeared on Mikki’s face. ‘And I’ll make sure that isn’t public knowledge. I’ve earned the right to try out for this team. God knows, I’ve trained hard enough and applied often enough. If anyone suggests it’s come from strings being pulled, I’ll give them a black eye.’
John laughed. ‘Yeah … right!’
‘I’m serious.’ Mikki straightened to her full height which was, unfortunately, only five feet two. ‘I’m going to do this, John, and I’m going to do it all by myself. Just watch this space!’
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 pre-requisite 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.
‘You bet,’ she told Tama. ‘Just tell me where and when.’
CHAPTER TWO
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.
