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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 first thing this morning.

      ‘Tell me why,’ Tama ordered as he handed her the small backpack with a twenty-kilogram weight inside. ‘Why do you want to join a helicopter team?’

      ‘Preparation. I want to add the skills to my CV.’

      ‘To what end?’

      ‘MSF. Mèdecins San Frontiéres.’

      ‘I know what it is.’ Tama shook the incredulous expression from his face. ‘I’ve thought about it myself.’ He slid his arms through his pack straps. ‘You’re talking global hotspots. Third-world conditions. War zones.’

      ‘Think I’m not up to it?’

      Man, there was a bit of fire in there! Tama liked that. Sparks kept things hot.

      ‘Didn’t say that. Just curious as to why you’d want to.’

      ‘Maybe I’m an adrenaline junkie.’

      ‘Are you?’ Thrill seekers who might take unnecessary risks and endanger other team members were not welcome on Tama’s watch.

      Mikki shook her head dismissively. ‘I know the value of staying alive, if that’s what you’re getting at. I was in a major car crash when I was sixteen. Got a good look at what it would be like not to survive and I don’t plan on repeating the experience.’

      Tama nodded acknowledgement. He was tempted to ask more but that would be hardly professional, would it? He had no excuse to stray onto personal ground.

      Yet.

      ‘Having said that,’ Mikki continued, ‘I’m not exactly a shrinking violet either, and when I heard that MSF were short of doctors, I put my hand up.’

      Tama’s thoughts had been veering towards sympathy for Sir Trevor Elliot who probably had good reason to be concerned about his daughter’s safety. They slammed to a halt.

      ‘You’re a doctor?’

      ‘What did you think I was?’

      Tama’s mouth opened and then closed. Opened again. Preconceptions were exploding somewhere in the back of his mind, pretty dresses and low IQs among them. ‘They…ah…said you worked in an emergency department, that’s all. I…ah…’

      ‘Assumed I was a nurse? A phlebotomist? Desk clerk?’ Mikki gave an incredulous huff and turned away. ‘Let’s get this over with, shall we? I’ve got a manicure booked for later today.’

      * * *

      She had to reach out and touch it just to convince herself it was real and not part of a dream.

      It was hanging at the end of a row of hooks. A bright orange set of long-sleeved overalls with horizontal fluorescent strips below the elbows and knees and the official air rescue insignia on the front.

      ‘Had to be specially ordered in,’ Josh told her. ‘Smallest size they’ve ever been asked for.’

      ‘They were quick. It’s only been three days since I passed the pre-requisite.’ Mikki stole a glance at the lead member of her mentor crew but Tama was looking at his partner.

      ‘What was it they asked? If we had a mouse joining the crew?’

      ‘Hey…Mickey Mouse!’

      Oh…no! Surely that awful nickname that she thought she’d left behind at primary school wasn’t about to resurface?

      ‘Mouse,’ Tama echoed thoughtfully. ‘Hmm. Small and very…’

      Mikki gave him a look. If he dared suggest she was scared of anything, he was going to regret it.

      His lips curved. For the first time Mikki saw genuine amusement in his face and it came alive, with sparks of real mischief in the dark depths of his eyes. And, boy, he knew exactly what he was doing here. Did he have the intelligence to recognise limits?

      ‘And smart,’ he said innocently. ‘Perfect.’ His smile took on a wicked edge that warned Mikki he wasn’t conceding victory quite yet. She followed his gaze as it travelled to where her hand was unconsciously stroking the fabric of her shiny new overalls.

      ‘Just like your nails,’ he added. ‘Good job.’

      Mikki drew in a breath. Some limits might need neon signs.

      ‘Just for the record,’ she informed him, ‘I do not get manicures. My hair colour is natural and I have no intention of ever getting a boob job. Satisfied?’

      His eyes

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