Rescued by the Dreamy Doc / Navy Officer to Family Man

by Amy Andrews / Emily Forbes

  ‘Now,’ Callie cried, her hips rising off the bed.

  Sebastian looked down at her. Her skin was flushed like an exotic jungle bloom, lush and open before him. He kissed her hard. ‘One moment.’

  Sebastian, his heart thundering in his ears, heard her mewed protest. He found his jeans, located his wallet, extracted a condom, and was back by her side in twenty seconds flat.

  ‘Now,’ he said, lowering his head further to drop a string of kisses around the base of her throat, his tongue tracing the line of her necklace, ‘where were we?’

  Callie felt the heat lick at her. ‘Here,’ she said, grasping the firm globes of his buttocks and rubbing herself against him.

  Sebastian didn’t need any further invitation. Her scent filled his head and it was the easiest thing in the world to slide into her, feel her tight around him, her fingernails pressing into his shoulder blades. And when she asked for more, he gave it, and when she wanted it faster, he picked up the pace, and when she cried out, his voice joined hers.

  And when she went over the edge, he joined her.

  It was quite some hours later they finally lay sated in a post-coital drowse among tangled sheets. Callie lay on her back, Sebastian’s shoulder a perfect pillow. His arm crossing her chest was warm and vital and his fingers trailing up and down her arm kept the hum in her cells, the thrum in her blood on a steady burn.

  ‘So. the bridge?’

  Callie’s eyes snapped wide-open, the malaise invading her bones and infecting her thought processes evaporating in a heartbeat. The hum and the buzz snuffed out.

  ‘Sebastian.’

  He regretted it immediately as her body tensed. All that languid warmth draped against him seemed to still and then tauten. ‘Come on, Callie.’ He ran a finger down her arm and felt her flinch. He stopped.

  ‘Something happened back at the restaurant. If Gerri’s to be believed, I think it has something to do with what happened on the bridge this morning.’

  Callie vaulted up, pulling the sheet with her and leaving Sebastian exposed—not that she cared. She squirmed to the side of the bed, her feet finding the floor. She sat forward, her elbows on her bare thighs, her hands supporting her head. The only person who knew the story was Gerri. And that was the way she preferred it.

  Her heart somersaulted in her chest at the mere thought of confiding in anyone else. ‘Gerri should mind her own damn business.’

  Sebastian rolled on his side. The golden skin covering the long column of her spine, the graceful arc where shoulder met neck, the dimples in the small of her back all tempted him. Sitting hunched over like this, as far away from him as possible, she looked so alone.

  Still, she hadn’t moved off the bed…

  He reached out his arm and swept his palm down her spine. She didn’t flinch this time and he dared to run it back up again and rest it on her shoulder.

  ‘Maybe Gerri knows that sometimes talking to someone that you don’t know very well is easier.’

  Callie snorted. ‘That’s a nice euphemism for virtual stranger.’

  Sebastian wasn’t fooled by the sarcasm. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and dropped his hand to the bed. ‘Okay. How about I guess?’

  Callie shook her head. Couldn’t he see she didn’t want to talk about this? ‘Just leave it, Sebastian.’

  ‘I’m thinking that you lost a client on that bridge. Maybe recently? Maybe someone you were negotiating with at the time who decided to end it all anyway?’

  Callie was horrified to feel tears pricking at her eyes as a sudden flash of her brother’s anguished face flickered before her.

  ‘Someone you couldn’t help no matter how hard you tried.’

  Callie heard Zack’s little voice asking for his daddy and sucked in a breath. She had tried.

  So hard.

  ‘We can’t be all things to all people, Callie.’ On a deeply personal level, Sebastian knew that all too well. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

  She knew that. She did know it. But a familiar pain built in her chest anyway. And the pressure build-up behind her eyes was almost unbearable. A tear trekked down her face and the urge to unburden overwhelmed her.

  For God’s sake, she’d just shared the most intimate thing two human beings could share. She’d been as physically vulnerable as it was possible to be with a man. But to feel such an emotional connection, a compulsion to open up, had been totally unexpected.

  Sebastian watched her closely. Was she trembling? ‘Callie,’ he murmured, stroking her back again, ‘talk to me.’

  Callie wiped at her face. His silky tone was so inviting. So soft. So understanding. If she didn’t say something, say what was on her mind, she was going to burst. And in some strange way she couldn’t understand, she trusted him. It was bizarre, she knew that. She barely knew him but she knew she could tell him this.

  She shut her eyes as the stroke of Sebastian’s palm encouraged her more. Somehow it was easier to say, to admit, with her eyes closed, in the dark.

  ‘It was …my brother. Not a client. My brother committed suicide from that bridge eight years ago yesterday. I was there, talking to him, trying to talk him down, but…’

  Sebastian’s hand stilled. This he hadn’t expected. He sat up and shuffled over to her, opening his legs, snuggling her into the V between his thighs. His powerful quads bracketed hers. His feet rested on the floor beside hers. He wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her against him. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Callie opened her eyes and sagged against him as if she’d just had a ten-tonne bock of concrete lifted from her shoulders. She bit her lip. ‘It was a long time ago.’

  Sebastian nuzzled her neck and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. ‘What was his name?’

  Callie faltered. Tears welled in her eyes. Nobody involved in the case back then had ever been particularly interested in his name. He had just been a system failure. A chart number. And people who knew she’d been Zack’s aunt and guardian had been too embarrassed or polite to ask.

  She was curiously touched by the way he’d just humanised her brother.

  ‘Andrew.’

  Sebastian rested his chin on her shoulder. ‘Did Andrew have problems or…?’

  ‘He was a schizophrenic.’

  ‘Ah.’

  Callie drew in a ragged breath. It hurt to talk about him. But it was nice to acknowledge his existence after years of avoiding the topic.

  ‘In and out of psych wards from the age of sixteen. He was non-compliant with his meds and…transient… homeless for the last few years…’

  The ugly scene at the restaurant came back to Sebastian and things clicked into place. ‘That must have been difficult.’

  Callie remembered those years of trying to help, trying to save him, trying to get him to see reason. Trying to be sister, mother and health professional, and failing at all of them. Learning the hard way that you just couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped.

  ‘The voices just got too much for him.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. If anyone knew how mental health issues could affect family life it was him. Sebastian was quiet for a bit and they sat in a strange kind of solidarity that had little to do with the amazing sex they’d had for the last four hours.

  After a while he moved back onto the bed and she followed him, turning into his side and draping an arm over his chest.

  ‘Is that why you became a psych nurse?’ he asked into the silence that stretched between them but somehow didn’t feel unnatural.

  Callie didn’t answer for a moment, then she flipped over so she was lying on her stomach, her chin propped on his shoulder. She didn’t know why she was telling him this. Any of it. She just knew it felt right.

  ‘My mother was bipolar and Andy was diagnosed at sixteen. I didn’t seem to be able to help either of them but I wanted to be able to do something. To try and help others. To…I don’t know, understand, maybe.’

  Sebastian used his forefinger to push back a lock of her
hair that had fallen forward. Callie really had been through the wringer.

  ‘What about you? Why’d you decide to become a psychologist?’

  Sebastian searched her face. ‘My father was a Vietnam vet. He was a prisoner of war for a brief time. He suffered severe PTSD. My mother was clinically depressed most of her life. Because of Dad mostly. Their marriage was certainly no bed of roses. So…’ he shrugged ‘.I guess for the same reasons as you. To help. To understand.’

  Callie nodded, liking the openness of his pale green eyes and the fact that he was some kind of kindred spirit. She shot him a slow smile. ‘And what on earth are you doing in this neck of the woods? Community mental health is a little lowbrow for such a hotshot, surely?’

  Sebastian chuckled but felt his gut tense. The answer to that one was complicated and a lot closer to home than the ancient history that was his family.

  He played with a lock of her hair, rubbing its silky strands between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I just needed a change of pace.’ Callie was looking at him intently and he averted his gaze to what his fingers were doing. ‘To try something different.’

  Callie arched an eyebrow at his evasive answer. But she didn’t say anything. His reluctance struck a chord, though, as she recognised her own behaviour in his avoidance. She didn’t usually talk about herself either.

  Instead, she leaned forward and kissed his very sexy, very understanding mouth. She lingered there as his tongue stroked her lips and desire squirmed through her belly. She smiled at him as she eventually pulled away and cuddled into his side again.

  ‘So,’ Sebastian murmured after the silence had gone on for an eternity. He’d been too wrapped up in the press of her breasts against his ribs and the slow, steady fan of her breath against his chest to speak.

  And grateful that she hadn’t insisted on knowing more.

  ‘What I want to know is, how come you aren’t married with a swag of kids by now?’

  Callie laughed. ‘You have to ask that? With my gene pool? Inflict that on some poor innocent child? You have got to be kidding!’

  Sebastian smiled. ‘You could have married,’ he pointed out.

  She shrugged. ‘I haven’t really found that one person, you know. I guess there have been a couple of guys over the years who I’ve hadlongish relationships with but… not for a quite some time.’

  Not since Zack. There’d been nothing other than brief encounters while her nephew had lived with her.

  ‘Let’s just say I haven’t found a man yet who’s comfortable with my no-kids rule. Besides, I raised Andy’s kid from two through to ten—I’ve done my mothering.’

  Callie had spent a good part of her life caring for others. First her mother then her brother and then her nephew. All ending in heartache. Her mother’s death, her brother’s suicide had been harrowing, but saying good-bye to Zack had been like an emotional wrecking ball. She never wanted to be that vulnerable again.

  ‘Raised? Past tense? Where is he now?’

  Callie shifted, a spike of pain pushing her against the bed as she rolled onto her back. ‘Back with his mother,’ she said, staring at the ceiling.

  ‘She wasn’t always around?’

  Callie shook her head. ‘Zack’s mother was a drug addict. And my brother wasn’t capable of looking after him either. Aleisha’s parents raised Zack until Andrew died and then…they couldn’t cope any more. They didn’t know if their daughter was dead or alive from one minute to the next and they were getting old, in their seventies. Too old to cope with an energetic two-year-old-boy. So I took him in.’

  Sebastian could hear the emotion making her voice husky. He glanced at her. She had her eyes closed. ‘But he’s back with her now?’

  ‘Yes.’ She swallowed as the pain intensified. ‘She’s clean. Has been for two years. She’s married to a good guy—very stable with a great extended family—and she has a great job. She wanted her son back.’

  Sebastian didn’t have to ask to know that giving her nephew up had been gut-wrenching for Callie—her soft, tremulous voice said it all. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, rolling up on his elbow and dropping a kiss on her shoulder.

  Callie nodded, squeezing her eyes together tight. ‘It was the right thing to do.’ She drew in a ragged breath. ‘And it’s working really well. He lives nearby, goes to the same school, has the same friends. He adores his stepfather. He’s happy, that’s all that matters.’

  Sebastian kissed her shoulder again.

  Callie knew she’d break into a million pieces if they kept talking about Zack. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, staring directly into his. ‘What about you? Do you have kids?’

  It occurred to her that she didn’t know much about him personally. They’d talked shop at the restaurant—professional history. Prison systems. Government policies. His recent year-long secondment to the Department of Defence, counselling Australian military personnel.

  But nothing personal.

  She flicked a glance at his left hand. No ring mark.

  ‘This, by the way, would be a very bad time to tell me you have three. And a wife waiting for you back in Melbourne.’

  Sebastian chuckled. ‘Oh, no, not me. No wife. No kids. Same reasons as you, really. Another bad gene pool and my parents’ train wreck of a marriage led to my own no-kids policy.’

  And he’d seen so much in his life, particularly this last year—so much violence and hate and suffering—he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring an innocent child into such a screwed-up world.

  ‘And let me tell you there aren’t any women out there comfortable with that.’

  Except Callie.

  ‘Because women think you’re going to change your mind. That they’ll be the ones to make you see that you actually really do want babies. But…I don’t think some people were meant to have children. Me included. Or at least some people shouldn’t.’

  Callie understood totally. ‘Amen to that.’ She rolled on her side and kissed him. Hard and deep. Grateful to have found the only man on earth who appeared to share exactly the same views she had.

  Even if it was just for one night.

  ‘Anyway,’ she said, pulling away, sitting up, scooting to the side of the bed ‘I’d better be off. I’ve got to work tomorrow.’

  It was a well-practised manoeuvre for Callie. She never stayed the night. It was a rule she’d adopted early in her dating life, a product of a chaotic and unsettled upbringing, and had been cemented when an impressionable child came into her care.

  And even though Zack was gone, sleeping—actually sleeping—with a man was an intimacy she didn’t want to invite.

  Especially not with Sebastian.

  Still, as she rose and searched for her clothes, she was surprised at how hard it was this time. Normally she walked away without a backward glance. But with Sebastian watching her every move through half-open lids as she dressed in the moonlight, the temptation to stay was intense.

  He didn’t protest. Or insist. He just watched her and by the time she was dressed she felt thoroughly examined and one hundred per cent ready to get back into bed and go again.

  She looked at him lying amidst the tangle of bedclothes all rumpled and sexy, the sheet just covering his modesty and exposing everything else. His eyes, hooded in the gloom, followed her actions like a lazy cat, ready to pounce.

  ‘You sure I couldn’t tempt you to stay a little longer?’ he mused.

  Sebastian threw the sheet back and grinned when her amber eyes widened at his readiness. That she wanted to leave was no skin off his nose. He preferred to sleep alone anyway, especially since the nightmares, so this part of a date was always awkward.

  But he’d never had a woman so keen to leave.

  And, besides, he didn’t feel quite sated enough. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  Callie shut her eyes briefly. How was he even capable of going again? She opened her eyes and pierced him with her best no-nonsense look. ‘Some of us have to work.’

  Sebastian si
ghed and covered himself up again. She was looking around the room, her gaze not meeting his. This was what he’d feared. ‘You’re regretting it, aren’t you?’

  The thought disappointed him more than the fact that she was leaving. Something so wonderful should never be regretted.

  Callie looked at him and frowned. Was he joking? If she lived to be a hundred she’d never regret this night. Sure, she knew in a couple of days she was going to regret baring her soul to him, but the sex? Never.

  ‘No.’ Her gaze swept the floor again.

  He propped himself up on his elbow. ‘Callie, you can’t even look at me.’

  Callie almost laughed out loud as she lifted her eyes. ‘I’ve lost my earring, that’s all.’

  Sebastian chuckled. ‘Oh. Sorry.’ His gaze fanned over the bed and caught a glint of metal amongst the sheets. ‘Here it is.’ He held the hoop up.

  Callie grinned. ‘Thanks,’ she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and relieving him of it.

  Sebastian watched her attempting to hook it in without a mirror. ‘So how do you want to handle this from here?’ he asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, concentrating hard on finding the hole in her lobe.

  ‘Well…we are going to be colleagues as of next week…’

  The earring found its home and Callie turned to face him. ‘We’re not forty-year-old virgins, Sebastian, swept away by a night of fantastic sex. Was sleeping together the wisest course of action? Probably not. But we’re both professionals. I can keep my work life and my private life separate. Can you?’

  Sebastian nodded. She was warrior woman again, bolshie and direct. God, he wanted to kiss her now, more than ever. Tumble her against the mattress and start all over again. ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘We can’t do it again, of course, not while we’re working together. I don’t think colleagues being sexually involved ever really works.’

  He couldn’t agree more. ‘Usually totally disastrous.’

  ‘Especially when you’re only here for a year.’

  He nodded again. ‘Doesn’t make any sense.’

  Callie nodded back, satisfied they were both on the same page. But then she made the mistake of following Sebastian’s movements as he rubbed at the stubble on his chin and her gaze dropped to his mouth.