Tama had his arms right around her, and it took a moment for Mikki to realise she was clinging to his neck as he trod water out in the middle of the dive pool. She tried to answer but couldn’t speak yet. She tried to move but Tama’s hold tightened.

‘Be still,’ he advised calmly. ‘Get your breath back.’

There was something so gentle in that command to ‘be still’ that Mikki found herself transfixed. Almost hypnotised.

Their heads were so close.

Close enough to kiss.

Where had that come from? Involuntarily, Mikki’s gaze dropped to Tama’s mouth, and desire hit somewhere deep in her belly with the kick of a mule. He had the most kissable mouth she’d ever seen. Lips that looked so soft but had such firm lines. Lines that were currently crooked, with one side pulled up into the hint of a smile.

Mikki’s gaze shot up to find Tama watching her very steadily. His gaze dropped to her mouth.

Oh…Lord! Had he guessed what she’d been thinking about? And the way he was looking back at her now…was it possible he’d been thinking the same thing?

Yes.

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.

Recent titles by the same author:

THE ITALIAN SURGEON’S CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

MARRYING THE MILLIONAIRE DOCTOR*

HER FOUR-YEAR BABY SECRET

THE ITALIAN SURGEON CLAIMS HIS BRIDE

CHRISTMAS BRIDE-TO-BE

THE PLAYBOY DOCTOR’S PROPOSAL*

*Crocodile Creek

ONE NIGHT WITH HER BOSS

BY

ALISON ROBERTS

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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 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.

‘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 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 widened a fraction but there was a flash of something other than feigned submission as he held his hands up, palms outward. Either he approved of her standing up for herself or he thought there was nothing wrong with the size of her breasts.

Mikki looked away. Tama might not be satisfied but she was. Enough to call a private truce. She’d let them get away with calling her ‘Mouse’ if that’s what it took to join this team.

It still seemed like a dream but those overalls were real. She bit back a grin as she finally stopped touching them. It should be enough that she was wearing the black pants and T-shirt with the base insignia. That she had the heavy black boots with steel-capped toes on her feet already.

‘What happens today?’ Mikki queried.

‘Depends,’ Tama responded unhelpfully.

‘On?’

‘Callouts,’ Josh supplied. He gave his partner an unreadable look but Mikki suspected a friendly reprimand was included. ‘If it’s quiet, Tama’s going to start your basic training.’

‘Cool.’

‘Yeah.’ Tama didn’t seem to be sharing her enthusiasm, however. ‘There’s a lot to get through.’

‘Such as?’

‘Procedures. How to use the paging system. Map reading. Basic chopper safety. Gear…’

Josh groaned. ‘Speaking of gear, I’ve got to get on with the stockroom check and clean up. It’s a mess thanks to how busy we’ve been. Want to swap, Tama? I could train Mouse.’

Mikki’s gaze flew to catch Tama’s.

Those undercurrents in her pre-requisite assessment had been unmistakable. He hadn’t thought she was a suitable candidate. He’d almost given the impression of experiencing physical pain when he’d had to tell her she’d passed and would be allowed to join the team for further training.

And then he’d gone. Just turned on his heel and left. It had been the station manager, Andy, who’d called her later to congratulate her and provide the information needed for the next stage, which had included arrangements for her uniform and other necessities.

Now Tama had the opportunity to step back. To give away the mentorship he’d been assigned. Was it permissible? Would he want to? Her gaze remained riveted on Tama’s and it was the paramedic who finally broke the eye contact.

‘Nah,’ he drawled. Had the decision been a close call? ‘I hate that paperwork that goes with a stocktake. I’ll keep the mouse.’

Mikki had to stop an outward rush of breath. Had she been holding it? Why?

Because Tama was the senior crew member here, in every way, that’s why. Josh was a nice guy and probably extremely competent but Tama’s aura of confidence and ability and sheer…power was palpable.

This was the man Mikki wanted to work with despite whatever he might think of her.

And she wanted to work with him as closely as possible.

CHAPTER THREE

HE SHOULD have been more careful about what he wished for.

Things had started well enough. After a brief tour of the base, issuing Mikki with a pager and explaining how it worked, Tama had taken her into the hangar. One of the helicopters was already outside, with Steve busy checking it, which left plenty of space for them to stand back and admire the back-up aircraft.

‘New Zealand was the first place in the world where a helicopter was used for rescue work, back in 1970.’

‘Really?’ Mikki stepped closer. ‘I didn’t know that.’

‘It was only used for beach rescues for a long time. It wasn’t till 1983 that we started to use them for general rescues.’

Mikki nodded. She seemed to be soaking up the information and Tama found himself unexpectedly enjoying his role. He dismissed the reaction and took a quick glance at his watch. And that was when he started wishing that his pager would go off and give him an excuse to escape Mikki’s company for a while.

‘It’s got an eight-to twelve-seat capacity if it’s not used for medical evacuation but our stretchers and gear take up a lot of seating room. We’re set up to carry seven people and a stretcher or four people and two stretchers.’

‘What’s the range?’

‘Five-forty kilometres, depending on weight and weather and so on. We’ve got auxiliary tanks that extend that quite a bit. Its maximum speed is 278 kilometres an hour and it has a ceiling of ten thousand feet.’ She wasn’t really interested in the chopper’s technical data, was she?

‘So how far can we go on a job?’

‘We’. It still rankled that she was here. That Tama would have to spend so much time and effort allowing her to gain a qualification that she intended to take elsewhere. If she wasn’t Trevor Elliot’s daughter, this would not be a happening thing, would it? And ‘we’would not be going on any jobs for as long as Tama could keep a lid on this situation. He’d like to go on one, though, right about now. It wasn’t going to stay this quiet all day, was it?

‘Operations are normally kept within a 160-kilometre range of base, allowing forty-five minutes each way for travelling and thirty minutes at the rescue scene.’

Tama cleared his throat. He needed to get on with the training tasks assigned for the day. If it was going to stay quiet, then the sooner they got through them, the sooner he could get on with the backlog of journals he wanted to catch up on in his downtime.

‘How much do you know about helicopter safety?’

‘A bit. I worked in the ED of a hospital that had a helipad on the roof. I know not to approach or leave without pilot clearance and to stay in his line of vision. And not to go near when the engine is starting up or running down because the rotors change height.’

‘There’s a few other considerations when we’re out in the field. If you get blinded by dust or something, you have to stop and crouch or sit down. One of us will assist you. If you’re carrying any gear, keep it horizontal and below waist level.’

They moved to the rear of the helicopter where the clamshell doors were open.

Mikki looked impressed. ‘There’s a lot of gear in there.’

‘We’ve got a full set of what you’d expect in a well-equipped ambulance. Full resus gear, including 12-lead ECG monitoring, defibrillator with pacing capability. Suction, traction splints, scoop stretcher, IV gear, fluids, drugs. Usual stuff. Everything we need for initial stabilisation is in this kit.’ Tama touched the large, soft pack strapped near the back of the machine against a folded scoop stretcher and the lightweight stretcher used for winching. ‘Come and meet our pilot, Steve. He should be finished whatever he’s doing outside now.’

He was. And he seemed delighted to meet Mikki. Proud to show off his sleek aircraft.

‘Jump in,’ he invited. ‘See what it feels like from the inside. Ever been up in one of these?’

‘No. Lots of small planes but never a chopper.’

Small planes. Tama almost snorted. Gulfstream jets more likely.

‘I’ve got my private pilot’s licence,’ Mikki added casually, as she climbed into the copilot’s seat. ‘And I’ve done a bit of gliding.’

‘Phew! You’ll be flying one of these yourself next.’ Steve’s gaze was openly admiring and it irritated the hell out of Tama.

‘I’ll do that,’ he growled, moving past Steve before he could show Mikki how the safety belts worked. ‘Don’t let us interrupt your pre-flight stuff. We could get a job any minute, eh?’

He wished! It just wasn’t comfortable having this woman within the close confines of a helicopter, which became more noticeable when they moved into the back so she could see the various seating options and how all the gear fitted. Unbearably so when Tama helped Mikki put on and adjust a seating harness.

It was inevitable that he was close enough to discover that her hair smelt of…what, strawberries? Something summery and fresh, anyway. As fresh as the puff of her breath he could feel on his neck as he leaned in. And there was no way he could avoid brushing her body with his hands on more than one occasion.

This was why he didn’t like the idea of having a female crew member. It was distracting.

Alarmingly so, in this case. She didn’t simply have the usual kind of feminine attractions that any man was programmed to take notice of, she had kept up with him under gruelling physical challenges that would have destroyed a lot of men. She was intelligent. And she had a pilot’s licence as well? Sheesh!

Why wouldn’t that damn pager go off? Tama wished harder and his wish came true. The pager beeped stridently and when Mikki had silenced hers, she looked up at Tama and her face was glowing.

‘A job!’ Her gaze held a plea that would have melted virtually any man. ‘Will I be able to come, too?’

‘No,’ Tama snapped as he read the message on the pager. That was not part of the wish.

‘Why not?’ It wasn’t Mikki asking. Steve walked past the open hatch on his way to the pilot’s seat. ‘We’ve got the room.’

Tama quelled him with a look that warned his colleague not to interfere. ‘It might be a winch job,’ he informed Mikki. ‘You’ve had no training and you’d just get in the way. We’d end up dumping you in a paddock somewhere, along with all the other non-essential weight.’

The excitement drained from her face and a hint of colour crept into her cheeks. Mikki dropped her gaze instantly, presumably thinking she could disguise her disappointment, and her tone was light as she unclipped the harness.

‘That’s cool. There’s plenty I can do here, I expect.’

Dammit. Did she have to be so reasonable? Tama strode into the mess room to pull on his overalls. Josh was a step ahead of him.

‘Just a prang,’ he told Tama. ‘Roadside. Easy landing.’

‘No winching, then?’ Mikki was watching Josh but Tama saw the way her gaze slid towards the peg that her own overalls were hanging on.

‘Not this time.’

Now Tama could feel Mikki’s gaze on him. A silent query this time but one that would need a different explanation to cover his refusal. He could come up with several.

Like not knowing where gear was, for example, when it might be needed in a hurry. Say…a suction kit. Having to take the time to make sure she was following protocols regarding crew safety when his attention would be better spent on the patient. She might argue, of course, but that would be good. He’d rather see her angry than disappointed. He doubted very much that he would see any expression of defeat, however.

Did he want to?

Yes. No.

This was confusing. Having Mikki here was distracting and confusing and Tama didn’t like it one little bit. The only saving grace was that it was temporary. And the sooner she got her damned qualification, the sooner she would be out of his place of work and his life.

She was still staring at him.

‘Fine.’ Tama kept his gaze on the zip he was pulling closed. ‘You can come. But you’ll have to do exactly what you’re told, when you’re told. Got it?’

‘Got it.’ Mikki was already halfway into her overalls. ‘Hey, Tama?’

‘What?’ Both the tone and the eye contact were reluctant.

Her smile was almost shy. ‘Thanks.’

His only response was a grunt as he jammed his helmet over his head. What was it about this princess? How could just a smile—and not even a real one at that—stir some odd sensation in his gut?

He couldn’t identify the sensation but it made him feel…bigger somehow. Important. Powerful, even.

Confusing, that’s what it was all right.

And Tama James did not like feeling confused.

This was so exciting!

Mikki would have hugged herself with the sheer thrill of it all but imagine if Tama saw that? He’d already caught her stroking her new overalls like some dreamy bride mooning over her confection of a frock.

She kept herself very, very still in her seat, thankful no one could see what was happening inside. The way her heart lifted to her mouth to mirror the helicopter rising into the air and then beat a tattoo against her ribs as they took off into a clear, blue sky. The way her stomach swooped and clenched when they hit some turbulence.

Don’t be sick, she begged silently. Please!

‘You all right?’ Tama was giving her a suspicious look. Had he guessed her inner turmoil and the very real possibility that her stomach might not cope?

‘I’m good,’ Mikki assured him. And she was. She had to be!

‘It’s about a twenty-minute ride,’ Tama said, still watching her. ‘There’s two vehicles involved and the fire service is only arriving on scene now so we might arrive to find people still trapped.’

Mikki nodded. Her head felt heavy with the unfamiliar helmet and her nod was probably over-eager. She became still again. This was her first opportunity to show Tama what she was capable of professionally and she was determined not to mess it up.

‘Take a look around in the back here.’

They had their helmet radios on a different channel to the one Josh and Steve were using as they discussed navigation. Tama’s voice, inside the helmet, was so clear and close it was disturbingly intimate. As though he had his mouth right beside her ear, his lips close enough to touch her skin.

And that gave Mikki a shiver to add to the strange physical sensations this ride was already clocking up.

‘We haven’t had a chance to go through the gear in here.’ Tama’s voice continued to caress her ear. ‘Might be a good idea if you at least knew where the basics were.’

She was ready for the weight of the helmet this time. Her nod was carefully controlled.

‘You can talk, you know,’ Tama said drily. ‘You’ve got a mike as well as earphones in there.’

‘OK.’

‘See where the portable oxygen is?’

‘Yes.’

‘There’s adult and child masks, acute and nebuliser, plus a non-rebreather in the pouch.’

‘What’s in that big pack?’

‘It’s called a Thomas pack. It’s got pretty well everything and it’s what we take from the chopper for a job like this. Blood-pressure cuffs and a stethoscope, chest decompression sets, intubation gear, bag mask unit, IV gear, fluids and drugs. We’ll go through it properly when we’re back at base.’

Mikki had a sudden inkling of what this was like from Tama’s viewpoint. She was being allowed out on a job before she really had any idea about resources and protocols. Before he had any idea what her level of skill was. He was probably thinking—quite rightly—that she could be a hindrance rather than any help.

Mikki took a deep breath and tried to quell her rush of nerves but they came back with a vengeance when they slowly circled the scene and came in to land. The view from up high was spectacular but getting the big picture with such clarity made this all seem almost overwhelming.

Traffic was backed up for miles in both directions, with police cars blocking the road well away from the accident site, so that even before Mikki could glimpse what they were heading for, she already had the impression it was major.

More police cars. Fire engines and two ambulances and so many people made up the inner circle and there—in its centre—were two horribly mangled vehicles. A car and a small truck. Mikki could see someone lying on the ground and another sitting with ambulance officers in attendance. And, judging by the cluster of rescue workers, someone else was still trapped in the car.

Multiple patients, potentially critically injured, but it shouldn’t be throwing her into this kind of a spin. She dealt with the aftermath of MVAs all the time in Emergency and she was good at it. They often had more than one victim arrive from a single incident.

But this was very, very different.

These people hadn’t already been triaged and stabilised by competent paramedics. Removed from a scene of carnage to arrive neatly packaged on a stretcher into a department that was well prepared with equipment and personnel. This was frontline stuff with an emotional element Mikki hadn’t expected, thanks to seeing the lines of traffic and the scope of the rescue effort and being there—in real time—to imagine the shock of having one’s life so unexpectedly thrown into chaos.

You know what to do, Mikki reminded herself as the helicopter touched down in a paddock beside the road, far enough away for the rotor wash not to create havoc. It’s basic. Airway, breathing, circulation. Assess each one and deal with it if it’s not adequate before moving on to the next. It may be more difficult and messier out here in the field but the priorities were the same.

And this was exactly where she wanted to be, wasn’t it? Frontline. Dealing with all the complications any kind of environment could create. Relying on her own skills and resources that would be far less than those an emergency department could offer. She wasn’t being thrown into this alone, in any case. She was with someone who was the top of their field. She was here to learn.

Confidence was available after all. She had Tama by her side. Mikki gathered all she could find as she followed him towards the car. Josh peeled off, after a brief, almost non-verbal communication with his senior partner, to go to the ambulance officers attending the people already out of the vehicles. Two more ambulance officers were right beside the car. The rear door had been cut away and a woman perched on the back seat, holding the driver’s head in a position that would keep his airway open and protect his neck.

Another straightened from where the front door had also been cut away.

‘He’s unresponsive,’ the paramedic informed Tama. ‘They’ve only just pulled the truck clear and got these doors off for us so I haven’t even completed my assessment, sorry.’

Tama leaned in. ‘Hey, mate,’ he called. ‘Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?’ His fingers were on the man’s wrist, and then his neck. ‘Carotid pulse,’ he said aloud. ‘No radial. BP’s well down.’

‘He’s bleeding heavily,’ the paramedic noted. ‘His leg’s trapped under the dash.’

A fireman moved in from the crumpled bonnet of the car. ‘We’re about to do a dash roll. You’ll be able to get him out then.’

Mikki had to move as a thick hose was pulled past her feet, a piece of equipment attached to its end that looked like a modified pneumatic drill. She was trying to concentrate on the continuing communication between Tama and the road-based paramedic but this was no emergency department handover.

The pneumatic gear the fire service were using was loud enough to mean people had to shout to communicate and everyone seemed to have urgent tasks that other people were being ordered to carry out. The woman on the ground a short distance away was screaming and a new, approaching siren added to the cacophony.

It smelt of hot metal and petrol and blood and everything looked deformed and sharp. Dangerous.

‘Can you move?’ A fireman requested curtly. He was holding the heavy-looking cutting gear. ‘I need to get in here.’

‘Give us a minute,’ Tama ordered. ‘I want to get an IV in and some oxygen on before we do anything more.’ He slid the Thomas pack off his back and, magically, enough clear space opened beside him to allow the pack to be opened out. ‘Mikki? You want to get the IV in?’

‘Sure.’

She hoped she sounded sure. An eagerness to show Tama what she could do—please him, even—bubbled inside her, and he’d handed her what should be an easy way to begin. Apart from having to step around the crumpled driver’s door on the ground, access wasn’t a problem. The paramedic unhooked a pair of shears from his belt and cut through the jersey and shirt covering her patient’s arm. Mikki slid a tourniquet on and pulled it tight.

Tama leaned past to slip an oxygen mask over the man’s face, then he hooked the stethoscope hanging around his neck into his ears and leaned in to listen to the man’s chest. The paramedic was waiting his turn to get close, a stiff neck collar in his hands.

‘Chest and neck injuries,’ Tama informed Mikki succinctly. ‘I’m not happy with his airway but an OP will have to do until we get him out. BP’s well down so I want to get fluids started stat.’

Mikki just nodded, concentrating on gaining access to a forearm vein with the wide-bore cannula she held. It wasn’t easy. Their patient was a very large man and she was having to go on touch rather than a visual target. To her relief, blood flowed into the chamber instantly. She advanced the needle a little further, slid the cannula home and withdrew the mechanism.

‘Got a luer plug?’

‘Here.’ The paramedic had a dressing and tape ready to secure the line as well and then a giving set and bag of fluids appeared with commendable swiftness, but if Mikki had expected any praise for succeeding in her task, she would have been disappointed. Not that there was time to think of it because things were moving very rapidly now.

Josh joined them.

‘Truck driver’s only got minor injuries and the female passenger from the car is stable. They’re both being transported by road. Where are we here?’

They were at the point of being able to move their patient. Mikki stood back, letting the more experienced and stronger men put on an impressive display of peeling back crumpled metal and then using a body splint and backboard to turn and slide the victim free with minimal disruption to his spinal alignment.

The unconscious driver was on a stretcher within a very short period of time, moved clear of the wreckage, but securing him in the helicopter was still some way off, it appeared. The man’s breathing was deteriorating and Tama clearly wanted to try and stabilise his condition prior to transport. He opened pockets of the Thomas pack and took out a large, tightly rolled package.

Mikki was using the stethoscope as Tama untied the package and opened it up to reveal an intubation kit. She nodded her agreement.

‘He’s got some bleeding going on in his trachea,’ she said. ‘And I don’t like this swelling in his neck. If we don’t secure his airway now, we might lose it completely.’

‘Absolutely.’ Tama was holding up a pair of gloves that looked far too small for his hands. ‘Go for it, Doc.’

Mikki couldn’t help her jaw dropping in astonishment.

Technically, she had higher qualifications than either of the paramedic air rescue crew. She had intubated dozens of people in emergency departments and Theatre but these guys had the huge advantage of experience in working under precisely these conditions.

Rescue crews were still busy around them. It was noisy and dirty and…foreign. And this was an obese patient who could be difficult to intubate even under ideal circumstances. Tama was throwing her in the deep end here but she had breezed through that cannulation, hadn’t she?

She could do this, too.

Except it was harder than she had feared. With blood in the airway and bright sunlight negating the effect of the laryngoscope’s light, it was impossible.

‘I can’t see a thing,’ Mikki had to admit.

‘Here. I’ll shade you.’ Tama loomed close over Mikki and the man’s head, blocking the light from falling directly on them.

Mikki still couldn’t visualise the vocal cords. It was hard to keep a note of desperation from her voice.

‘I need suction.’

‘It’s here.’ Tama managed to slip the handle of the suction unit inside their patient’s mouth without dislodging the laryngoscope Mikki held in place. She reached for an ET tube.

‘Here goes,’ she muttered hopefully.

Her first attempt failed.

‘Oxygen saturation is dropping.’ Josh was right beside her. ‘I’ll bag mask him for a sec.’

Mikki sat back on her heels, looking for a replacement tube in the kit. She caught Tama’s steady gaze. ‘Maybe you should do this,’ she suggested. Or Josh could. Except that Josh was now responding to a signal from a fire officer. It looked as though one of the rescue workers had injured himself.

‘Have another go,’ Tama directed.

So she did and again it proved impossible.

‘The trachea’s swelling,’ she said in despair. ‘I can’t get this past the cords even with a guide wire.’

‘I’ll have a go.’

They swapped places. Tama handed her the bag-mask unit and she held the mask over the man’s face, squeezing the bag to try and get a high concentration of oxygen into the man’s lungs. She could feel it becoming more difficult as the airway closed further. Tama was pulling on gloves. As he picked up the laryngoscope, Mikki could hear the deterioration in the man’s breathing. A nasty stridor that suggested they might be about to lose this challenge.

Tama positioned himself and the patient’s head. He inserted the laryngoscope.

‘Give me some cricoid pressure,’ he instructed seconds later.

Mikki pressed on an Adam’s apple that was actually hard to locate in an already thick neck that had severe swelling going on as well. If things were this hard from the outside, what hope did Tama have of slipping a tube through the airway internally?

Very little, but he managed. Almost instantly, he slipped the tube into place and then straightened to secure it and attach the bag mask to the end of the tube. Mikki picked up the unit as Tama placed his stethoscope on the chest. She squeezed the bag as he listened for lung sounds and then placed the disc below the ribs to exclude air going into the epigastrium.

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