Rescued by the Dreamy Doc / Navy Officer to Family Man Read online

  ‘Mummy said I ran like the wind.’

  Callie gripped the receiver hard. Her brother, Zack’s father, had been an athletics champion at school. He’d had such promise.

  Until everything had gone wrong.

  ‘I bet you did, my Za Za.’ She smiled.

  Her nickname for him fell easily from her lips but sat very uneasily in her churning gut. She wanted him here with her again with a startling ferocity. She wanted to put her arms around his skinny shoulders and hug him tight.

  Like the polite little boy she raised him to be, he asked, ‘How was your day, Aunty Cal? How many people did you help?’

  She smiled at how grown-up he sounded. Callie knew that Zack was very proud of the way his aunt helped people like his father—even if he didn’t really have an understanding of what that meant.

  ‘Zillions,’ she joked, and laughed as Zack’s boyish giggle warmed her down the phone line.

  He was too young to tell him about her day. About her morning on the very bridge his father had thrown himself off eight years earlier. Zack had never really known his dad and that wasn’t the way Callie wanted him to remember Andy anyway.

  She hung up a few minutes later just as a horn beeped outside. Callie looked at her watch. Argh! She was running late and two earrings did not make her dressed for dinner!

  Sebastian thought he’d actually conjured her up when Callie Duncan appeared in front of him at the restaurant. After all, she’d rarely been out of his head since that morning so seeing her in the flesh again seemed almost natural.

  ‘We meet again,’ he murmured, taking in her sexy pin-striped trousers, soft, white, collared blouse with a deep V neck, and very large frown.

  ‘Oh, hi.’ Callie’s mouth dried as she took in the commanding redhead from the bridge and turned to Gerri. What the hell was he doing there?

  Geraldine raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve met?’

  ‘Er…yes, um…He…That is…’ She gestured to the man with that floppy fringe and that voice and that stare and whose name she still couldn’t remember. She could hardly call him what’s-his-name to his face!

  Sebastian quirked a brow and smiled at her verbal groping. ‘Sebastian,’ he supplied. ‘Or Seb. I answer to both.’

  Callie nodded, relieved. For a moment. And then realisation slowly dawned. Sebastian?

  Uh-oh.

  Sebastian Walker?

  ‘Sebastian was the negotiator today,’ she said automatically as her sluggish brain tried to catch up.

  She glanced at him and the intenseness of his gaze stole her breath. It was still there, that thing from this morning. Big and large and growing between them as she took in his casual dress shirt, the rolled-up sleeves, the top two undone buttons.

  ‘At the bridge,’ she added completely unnecessarily.

  ‘Huh, what a coincidence,’ Gerri said, looking from one to the other. ‘Well, as you know, as of next week, he’s the new temporary psychologist at Jambalyn.’

  He was Donna’s maternity leave replacement?

  Sebastian Walker? The Sebastian Walker. One of the most eminent and renowned young psychologists in the country? Who’d written the modern-day bible on PTSD?

  She hadn’t quite been able to believe it when Gerri had told them that he’d applied for the one-year relief position in their lowly community mental health centre. It was even harder to believe that he was the man from the bridge.

  And she’d flashed him!

  Callie sat, frowning, still not quite figuring it out. She felt like a complete airhead. ‘So, you’re not a cop?’

  She’d just assumed this morning…

  It would have been much easier if he had been. She could have put him in a neat little box. Police officer. Off-limits. She did not sleep with cops. She did not trade hot looks or share silent vibes with them. She did not give them any encouragement at all.

  Never.

  Cops were off-limits. Her reputation was paramount and cops were, after all, by and large, a great big boys’ club. And, as with a lot of boys, bragging often got the better of them. A close friend of hers had found that out the hard way.

  Of course, work colleague should have sent up a big red flag as well. But frying in the knowing heat of his stare, it came a poor second.

  Sebastian shook his head. ‘Afraid not.’ He grinned. ‘I have experience in hostage negotiation. The police, like a lot of organisations, sometimes outsource. I’ve worked as a civilian negotiator for different police forces from time to time. The Queensland police were eager to have me.’

  Of course. Revolutionising psychotherapy for prisoners and being a leading expert in PTSD obviously weren’t enough feathers in his cap!

  He shrugged. ‘The pager rarely goes off.’

  ‘Lucky me,’ she murmured, dropping her gaze, desperate to break the incendiary connection she felt every time she looked at him.

  This could not be happening! She’d really been looking forward to tonight. To meeting him and to working with him, but with his frank gaze prickling awareness across her skin she wasn’t so sure.

  It felt dangerous.

  And she was no adrenaline junkie.

  ‘Speaking of which,’ Christopher Martell, another of Jambalyn’s psych nurses, butted in. ‘We heard you flashed every cop in Brisbane this morning. I think the news helicopters even got a gawk. You’re quite the talk of the town.’

  Callie blushed and risked a look at Sebastian. His eyes told her that while he’d been determined to not play her game that morning, his peripheral vision was twenty/twenty.

  More than that—they told her he’d liked what he’d seen. That he wanted to see more. That in this restaurant there was a secluded spot in the alley outside and what the hell were they doing here when they could be there, their lips locked, pushing aside clothes, and to hell with inhibitions and social mores?

  She dragged her gaze from Sebastian and gave a careless shrug. ‘You learn to get bolshie in this job.’

  The conversation moved on and Sebastian let it flow around him. His new colleagues were articulate, expressive and dedicated. Chris, Magella, Cynthia and Callie were the nurses. Gerri and Donald were social workers. Ross was the lawyer. Rodney was the receptionist.

  They’d obviously been together for a while and could laugh and unwind?debrief—effectively. But more than that, they liked each other, respected each other and he looked forward to working with them and the challenge of community-based mental health.

  Even if it was only temporary.

  It would certainly be a very welcome change of pace. Exactly what he craved after the chaos, the day-to-day tensions of his last gig. Exactly what he needed before heading back to his private practice and the real world.

  It was gratifying to see that none of them were too awed by his reputation and he quickly slipped into a groove with them.

  Except Callie.

  She was distracted.

  Distracting.

  Her gaze kept wandering in his direction and he was drawn to the way the roundness of her breasts flirted with the soft fabric of her blouse, clinging briefly before shifting, gliding with silky fingers over her bra before settling again.

  Even the way she talked and smiled as she indulged in banter with her friends was distracting. She dropped her head to one side as she listened and absently ran the silver pendant at her throat along its chain. And when she laughed? It was full and throaty as if it had come all the way from her toes. Her eyes crinkled and she tossed her head, baring her neck.

  Other diners looked around at her laughter and smiled.

  When their gazes swept each other’s paths there was the merest pause before they skittered on like two opposing lighthouse signals. But in that fraction of time it was as if they were the only two people in the restaurant and Sebastian couldn’t remember if a woman had ever had such a startling effect on him.

  It was actually kind of exhausting, this level of awareness. The slow but inexorable build of tension tightening every muscle, si
zzling along every nerve ending.

  All he wanted was to fast-forward to the end and the kiss that he knew, deep in his bones, was the inevitable conclusion.

  It couldn’t happen fast enough.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AS THE evening drew to a close, Callie was aware of Sebastian becoming quieter, his gaze more intent as a weird kind of charge grew and then arced steadily between them. Like an approaching storm.

  Laden. Ominous.

  It enthralled and frightened her all at once. She knew she should get up and leave while she could but she felt powerless.

  Even when Gerri called for a doggie bag for the massive pizza she hadn’t been able to finish and the others took their leave en masse, she was helpless.

  Sebastian quirked an eyebrow at them. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Kill for one,’ Gerri agreed.

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Callie murmured.

  She should have declined. She knew that. But her fingers itched to push back the unruly lock of hair flopping across his forehead and overrode all her common sense.

  No seemed to have been stricken from her vocabulary.

  Besides, Gerri was giving her a lift home so she had to stay. Right?

  Sebastian beckoned a waitress over and they placed their orders. As she left, Callie became aware of a raised voice behind her and all three of them turned to look at what was happening.

  They were sitting in the alfresco area of a restaurant in a trendy new footpath strip in Fortitude Valley. The suburb was up-and-coming, quite hip with the movers and shakers but by and large it was still less than salubrious in places with a lot of cheap boarding-house accommodation. With a large client base here and Jambalyn being located a stone’s throw from the restaurant, Callie knew the area well.

  A dishevelled man, probably homeless, definitely down on his luck, was asking customers at the tables closest to the street for spare change for food. A young, preppy-looking man in an expensive suit at a table full of suits had taken it on himself to loudly lecture the unfortunate man, who was shuffling his feet, his head downcast, much to the delight of the other suits.

  Callie turned away, unable to witness such callous inhumanity. She felt sick. How could he? What would a preppy inner-city suit know about the difficulties some people faced and how life could go down the drain so rapidly? How could he judge so cruelly someone he didn’t even know?

  Her gaze fell to her lap where her hands shook, and she twisted them together to still the tremor. Her heart thumped like a gong in her chest and the meal she’d just eaten felt like a lump of lead in her belly.

  Gerri placed a hand over hers. ‘Are you okay?’

  Callie looked up into Gerri’s concerned eyes. She could see a frown knitting Sebastian’s brows in her peripheral vision. Callie’s gaze darted to Sebastian’s and back again. She nodded but the ugly scene had opened the floodgate on memories she’d been trying to keep at bay all day, from the bridge to Zack’s little-boy voice, and she felt like she was suffocating.

  Sebastian was surprised by the sudden change in the previously animated Callie. She’d gone very pale and there was an unbearable sadness in her expressive amber eyes. The arrogant fool confronting the homeless man had obviously upset her. After her fearless performance on the bridge today he’d half expected her to march over and verbally eviscerate the conceited guy, but she looked like she was about to faint.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he murmured.

  It was Callie’s turn to frown as she and Gerri watched Sebastian’s progress towards the altercation.

  Sebastian drew level with the table and looked down at the offending man just as he finished suggesting that the obviously itinerant man get a job. ‘Have you quite finished?’

  Sebastian didn’t usually court danger. In fact, he’d had enough of danger this last year. He was certainly no he-man. He didn’t pick fights or go around looking for trouble. But some things just couldn’t be ignored and this man’s attitude was abhorrent. Hopefully after tonight he’d think twice about using someone else’s misfortune to make himself look good.

  ‘I…I beg your pardon? ‘the younger man blustered. He looked around at his friends and the rest of the people in the half-full restaurant, obviously embarrassed to be called on his appalling behaviour.

  Good!

  ‘Feel like a big man now in front of your friends, humiliating another human being who was just looking for a bit of decency and compassion?’

  The man stood, the scrape of his chair loud in the suddenly charged atmosphere. ‘Who the hell are you?’ he demanded.

  Sebastian noted the younger man pale when he realised that Sebastian had four inches and several muscles groups on him. He lowered his voice. ‘A concerned citizen.’

  Callie shivered as the rumble of quiet menace in Sebastian’s voice was felt all the way around the restaurant. Her heart hammered and her palms felt sweaty where they gripped the table.

  ‘Look…I’m sorry, mate,’ the man said, holding his hands up. ‘I didn’t mean any harm.’

  Sebastian jaw tightened. This guy was nothing but a bully. Picking on someone helpless but backing down at the first sign of superior strength. He needed to apologise. He looked over to the street but the homeless man had obviously seen his opportunity and fled the ugly scene. Sebastian could see him shuffling away, his shoulders slumped.

  Callie looked back at her hands as Sebastian suggested the man bring his best manners next time he came out. He was being amazing—calm but firm—and she felt ridiculously like bursting into tears.

  Pressure built in her chest and she suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She half stood. ‘I…I need some air.’

  Gerri inspected her face closely and then gave a brisk nod, handing over the doggy bag. Callie took the offering and slipped out of the restaurant, sagging against its door briefly, grateful for the cool night air on her heated face.

  She saw the hunched old man farther down the street and hurried after him, pressing the leftover pizza into his hands when she caught up. He avoided her gaze but Callie could see the tears shining in his eyes as he mumbled his thanks. She smiled at him and backed away, not wanting to humiliate the man any further by trite words or useless platitudes.

  Sebastian, who had followed her out of the restaurant, walked towards her slowly as she retraced her steps. Where was his tall, proud Amazon from the bridge, eyes blazing? Was brave Callie the real deal or was the real Callie the woman walking towards him now? Softer, more vulnerable. He’d wanted to kiss the woman on the bridge senseless. This Callie he wanted to wrap up in his arms and shield from the big bad world.

  Which one was she?

  ‘You okay?’ he asked as she approached.

  Callie stopped in front of him, still too emotional to meet Sebastian’s eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek. She would not fall apart now. It didn’t matter that she seemed to be an unwilling rider on an emotional roller-coaster that was flinging her hither and thither; she would not crack.

  The memories. Her brother—years of not knowing where he was or if he was alive or dead. The bridge. Zack.

  They would not break her. Not right now.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Fine.’

  Sebastian stopped the snort that rose automatically. Callie was nowhere near fine. Still, he admired her stoicism. Did she spend all of her life putting on a brave face?

  He regarded her for a few moments. ‘I think our coffees are getting cold,’ he murmured.

  Callie heard the soft don’t-spook-the-horses note in his voice and braced her shoulders. She hated it that he’d seen her like this. She didn’t need his pity. ‘Can’t have that,’ she quipped, raising her chin and striding towards the restaurant.

  Geraldine rose when they arrived back at the table. She looked from Callie to Sebastian and then back again. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ Callie said, uncaring how overly bright it sounded as she sat. Still unable to look at Sebastian, she picked up her spoon and stirred the c
appuccino that had arrived during the fracas.

  The others followed suit and for a few moments no one said anything as they contemplated their lukewarm coffees. But Callie could feel Sebastian’s intense gaze on her and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to wrap herself up in all that intenseness and forget every detail of this horrible day.

  Geraldine pursed her lips, about to say something, but her mobile rang, interrupting her. She spoke briefly then ended the call. ‘Sorry,’ she said standing. ‘Tahlia thinks she’s in labour.’

  Callie looked up from her coffee, her teaspoon clattering against the saucer, everything prior to the call disappearing in an instant. Tahlia was Gerri’s daughter and this was the first grandchild. ‘Oh, my God, Gerri!’

  ‘I have to go.’

  ‘Of course,’ Callie urged. ‘Go. Just go.’

  Gerri looked at Sebastian. ‘Can you see she gets home? ‘

  Sebastian looked at Callie and it was the first time their eyes had met since she’d walked out of the restaurant.

  Inevitability smacked him in the face. There was no way she was going home alone tonight.

  ‘Of course.’

  Gerri nodded. She looked at Callie as if weighing her up and then looked back at Sebastian. ‘Ask her about the bridge,’ she said, before hustling out of the restaurant.

  Not that Callie noticed her friend’s departure, caught up as she was in his stare, her belly tightening, her breasts aching?knowing, now that her safety net had disappeared, there was only one way this night was going to end.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Sebastian murmured.

  Callie nodded. ‘I’m fine.’

  Sebastian didn’t believe her for a second. ‘Do you need to talk about the bridge?’

  Callie regarded him silently for a moment then said, ‘No.’

  ‘Really?’

  Callie nodded, trying to temper the action and not betray how desperately she did not want to talk about the bloody bridge.

  Damn Gerri!

  He continued to hold her gaze, seeking answers, and she couldn’t bear it. She leaned forward, lifted her hand and gently pushed his floppy fringe back a little. His skin was warm to touch and she heard the quick intake of his breath.