Rescued by the Dreamy Doc / Navy Officer to Family Man

by Amy Andrews / Emily Forbes

  Sebastian shrugged. ‘She’s the colleague of mine I was telling you about this afternoon.’

  ‘Ah,’ Brent said dramatically. ‘Curious you never mentioned how gorgeous she was.’ He drained the dregs of his beer. ‘Come on, introduce me.’

  Sebastian resisted Brent’s urging. ‘I thought some hot babe gave you her room number this afternoon?’

  Brent winked. ‘You know I never pass up an opportunity to meet a beautiful woman. Unless…’ Brent raised an eyebrow ‘.I’m trespassing?’

  Sebastian thought how furious Callie would be to be talked about like she was some chattel to be traded. ‘For God’s sake, Brent, she’s not a piece of land,’ he said, more sharply than he’d planned.

  Brent regarded his friend seriously. ‘All righty, then, I’ll take that as a yes. Now I definitely want to meet her.’

  Sebastian followed him reluctantly, snagging another beer from a passing waiter—he was going to need something to get him through watching Brent unleash his not inconsiderable charm on Callie. He hadn’t met one woman yet who’d been able to resist the whole tall, dark and handsome thing Brent had going on.

  Callie knew Sebastian was approaching even before his arm brushed hers. Some strange sixth sense she had around him had her on high alert.

  He was in a tuxedo and, as Victorian as it sounded, she almost swooned. The dark suit emphasised the breadth of his shoulders and the lush brilliance of his hair. She wanted to reach out and brush non-existent lint off his shoulder just so she could feel all that coiled strength she knew lay beneath the jacket.

  He had one hand buried in a pocket, which pulled his jacket aside slightly to reveal a nice flat abdomen beneath the crisp white fabric of his shirt. He’d looked tall and commanding, a standout in a room full of black tuxedos.

  Confident. Assured.

  With a touch of arrogance.

  Just as he had been on the bridge.

  ‘Excuse me, Callie,’ Sebastian interrupted the conversation. ‘I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Brent Cartwright.’

  Callie smiled brilliantly at the newcomer?anything to avoid looking at Sebastian. ‘Pleased to meet you, Brent,’ she said, sticking out her hand.

  ‘My pleasure,’ Brent murmured, shaking the proffered hand. ‘Seb tells me you work together.’

  Callie nodded, still avoiding looking at Sebastian. She could feel his gaze boring into her and she suddenly felt awkward. His very sexual attention in the boutique this afternoon, when they’d been by themselves and caught in a moment, had been one thing. But his hungry eyes in a room full of their colleagues was another thing entirely.

  This was, after all, work. Business.

  So she spent the next fifteen minutes chatting with Brent, her gaze firmly trained on the charming doctor. It wasn’t that hard, really. Sebastian’s friend was witty, exceedingly easy on the eye and made her laugh.

  Even Callie, who’d never been into those tall-and-dark movie-star looks had to admit Brent was something else. It was a pity really that it wasn’t him causing her pulse to skitter madly in her veins and her blood pressure to elevate.

  Instead, it was the broodingly intense Sebastian watching her every move through heavy lids that made it difficult to concentrate.

  She was hyper-aware of him in her peripheral vision?every time he shifted, every time he took a sip of his beer, every time he breathed. Callie was just about to tell him to go and brood somewhere else when they were called to dinner and she almost sagged against Brent in relief.

  Having already agreed to sit at a table with interstate colleagues, Callie had hoped that would be an end to the tension. That she’d be able to relax and enjoy the evening. The surroundings were sumptuous and the company was entertaining. And she was looking forward to it.

  She was sorely mistaken.

  Sebastian’s table was opposite and every time she looked up, he was in her direct line of sight. Looking at her. All broad, brooding male looking at her like she was naked. Or that he wanted to get her that way.

  It was unnerving. Crazy. And a total turn-on.

  Business, she told herself.

  Business. Business. Business.

  Sebastian listened only vaguely to the MC’s prattle as the evening progressed, his attention straying a little too often. When the auction commenced he bid on everything because it gave him something to do with his brain and his hands that didn’t involve trying to get Callie out of that dress.

  But every now and then a glint would catch his eye and he’d look up. A twinkle of an earring, a glimmer at her neck as the flame from a table candle caused the jewellery to flash like a beacon. Their gazes would lock and he had absolutely no doubt from the flare in her amber eyes that her thoughts were running to naked too.

  Callie tried to concentrate on the surroundings rather than Sebastian’s incendiary stare. The ballroom was, after all, magnificently decorated. It had been transformed into a teeming jungle complete with greenery and live, lush tropical blooms. Myriad fairy lights amidst the foliage gave it an other-world feel.

  No expense had been spared.

  The table centrepieces alone would have cost an arm and a leg. Wound around a large central dish full of submerged flat, black stones were delicate orchids. Frilly, like her hem, their fragrance was heady in an atmosphere already charged more than enough for her liking.

  Candles added to the mix, their light shimmering in the pristine water and refracting off the highly polished glassware. The whole table seemed to glitter and Callie felt like it was raining diamonds around her.

  But by the time dessert was served she could stand Sebastian’s stare and the twist in her gut no longer. She stood and excused herself. She needed to get far, far away from Sebastian and his tuxedo.

  Or her assertion that she wouldn’t sleep with him would be blown to pieces.

  She made it to the lifts outside the ballroom before Sebastian caught up with her and grabbed her arm.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She punched at the button wildly, giving him a tight smile, too afraid to loosen even that much lest she give in to the utter maleness of him. ‘I have a really bad headache,’ she lied.

  Sebastian’s thumb brushed the pulse fluttering at her wrist. ‘I have some medication in my room.’

  Callie’s stomach clenched at the husky query in his statement. They both knew he was inviting more than that.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she dismissed, punching the button again.

  Sebastian sucked in a breath. ‘Let me come with you.’

  Callie shut her eyes. She wasn’t here for this—she didn’t want this. They’d made the decision to be work acquaintances only. It would be stupid to go back and undo two months of collegiality.

  The lift dinged.

  ‘Callie:

  She felt a slight pull on her arm. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t.’

  She took advantage of the slackening of his hold and fled into the lift.

  CHAPTER SIX

  CALLIE heard the amplified calls of a coxswain setting the pace a minute or so before the slap of oar against water could be heard and a rowboat came into view. The sun was barely up and it was chilly in the early morning along the banks of the Yarra, but the river was alive and, even at this hour, the city pulsed around her as she walked along the boardwalk.

  She’d given up on sleep about an hour ago. Her king-size bed was the ultimate in cloud-like comfort but its sheer size conjured up pictures of rolling in the sheets with a lover.

  It was an image that had not been conducive to sleep.

  Her blood had thrummed loudly through her veins all night, and she’d tossed and turned, trying to ignore its insistent call. Eventually she’d just had to get out.

  ‘Hey.’

  Callie startled as Sebastian’s voice came from behind her. She turned to check she hadn’t just conjured him up. Nope. There he was in full Technicolor festooned in jogging gear that exposed a lot of his superb body covered in a fin
e sheen of sweat. His shorts exposed muscular thighs, the quads lengthening and contracting with each footfall.

  Last night in his tuxedo she’d thought she’d never seen him look more magnificent.

  She’d been wrong.

  She turned back, afraid she’d start to drool. ‘Hey, yourself.’

  Sebastian slowed and drew level with her, pulling the cool morning air into his burning lungs. He’d been running like the devil was after him this morning, thinking about Callie in that damn dress. And while her jeans, jacket and ponytail were a far cry from last night’s purple sensation, his body didn’t seem to know the difference.

  ‘I didn’t know you jogged,’ Callie said.

  Sebastian grimaced. ‘I don’t. Not really. I love it along here, though.’

  They walked on for a few moments, their gazes tracking the rowing boats gliding through the water.

  ‘How’s the headache this morning?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘I thought you’d still be tucked up in bed, sleeping it off.’

  Callie snorted. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ She regretted it instantly. He didn’t need to know that. A smart man like Sebastian would be easily able to join the dots.

  Sebastian raised an eyebrow. ‘Neither could I.’

  He’d lain awake half the night, torturing himself with images of that dress discarded on his floor in a purple puddle or draped at the end of his bed, a vibrant splash, like a parrot’s wing, amidst the snowy-white bedclothes.

  It was deeply satisfying to know she’d been lying awake too.

  Callie picked up the pace as the brisk morning breeze carried his earthy male scent towards her—clean sweat and toothpaste. It was intoxicating and she had a crazy urge to stop and bury her face against his throat.

  She searched for something to say to dispel the craving. ‘How long have you known Brent?’

  ‘Since uni.’

  ‘He seems like a real jack-the-lad,’ she mused.

  Sebastian nodded. ‘He wasn’t always. He was engaged at twenty to this girl from uni. He was besotted with her, wanted the white picket fence and two-point-four children, the whole catastrophe. She broke his heart.’

  ‘Twenty?’ Callie’s mind boggled. How could you know at that age that you wanted to spend your entire life with one person?

  Callie looked back to herself at that age. She’d been in the middle of her nursing training and trying to keep her family together. Life had been chaotic. She couldn’t even begin to fathom being so sure about anything, let alone a happily-ever-after.

  But she guessed that’s what normal adults in their twenties did—she’d just never had the luxury.

  They were back at the hotel now and Sebastian nodded to the doorman as they entered the lobby and walked up the magnificent marble staircase. They made their way to the lifts.

  ‘Are you ready for today?’ Sebastian asked as he pushed the button for the lift a couple of times.

  ‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ she replied, concentrating on the day’s programme and not the way his bicep bunched as he gave the button a third push. ‘You?’

  ‘Yep. Are you on before or after lunch?’

  ‘Before.’

  ‘Same here. Maybe we should do lunch afterwards—compare notes?’

  Callie hesitated. Lunch was usually a stand-up affair with finger food. It was supposed to be for networking and mingling. Not for cosy lunches for two.

  But, oh, with perspiration making his shirt cling to flat abdominals, she was so tempted!

  The lift arrived and Sebastian watched the little frown appear between her eyebrows. ‘It’s just lunch, Callie.’

  The doors opened and she was grateful for the reprieve as they entered an already crowded lift. Momentarily, anyway. Until she found herself herded to the back by the other bodies and standing very close, too close, to Sebastian. He asked for someone to push the button for floor eleven and Callie tried not to groan at the row of lit buttons she could just see through a gap between arms and bodies.

  Like it or not, they’d got a slow ride.

  The doors closed and several people carried on their conversations while Callie feigned interest in the carpet. But the heat from Sebastian’s arm rubbed against hers and as more people got in and the passengers shifted to accommodate them, she was pushed closer until her breasts were brushing against his side and her nostrils were full of his healthy male animal scent.

  No amount of carpet gazing could negate the fact that she was in an enclosed space squashed up against a sweaty, muscular man at the mercy of her raging hormones.

  When they reached their floor Callie pushed through the people in front and practically leapt out. She was almost at her door when Sebastian caught her up.

  ‘I’ll see you later, then?’ he said.

  ‘Yep.’ Callie nodded as her lock clicked and she pushed open the door. ‘Good luck today.’

  Sebastian inserted his key and looked over his shoulder to return her good wishes but her door was closing and she was gone.

  He stared at her shut door for a few moments and smiled.

  Callie had no idea if Sebastian was in the audience when she presented her paper on the latest clinical drug trial Jambalyn had been involved in. The lights on the stage were too bright to see anyone from her vantage point and she hadn’t noticed him in the audience prior to the session commencing.

  Despite knowing that several other sessions were running concurrently—most way more interesting than hers—she couldn’t quash a streak of disappointment.

  None of the audience questions had come from him—not that they would, seeing that he’d been heavily involved in the trial too—and he wasn’t around afterwards either. She felt curiously flat about it as she helped herself to fresh muffins at morning tea and chatted with interested delegates about her paper and the anti-psychotic’s practical applications in a community setting.

  And then it was Sebastian’s turn. Brent gestured to her when she entered the room and Callie made her way over, sitting down when he patted the seat beside him. It was a few rows back but quite central with a great view of the stage.

  Sebastian was busy talking to the tech guys and didn’t see her but it didn’t stop her gaze wandering to him as Brent kept up a running commentary of witty observations on the rest of the audience.

  Sebastian crouched down to accept a hand-held microphone from one of the tech crew and she couldn’t help but notice the tempting pull of his trousers across his truly fabulous backside. She sighed.

  ‘Earth to Callie,’ Brent called.

  Callie dragged her gaze away. ‘I’m sorry.’ She smiled to cover her confusion. ‘What were you saying?’

  Brent opened his mouth but was interrupted by the chairperson calling the audience to order. He chuckled. ‘Never mind.’

  Sebastian was introduced. And an impressive introduction it was. She knew about his work in the prison system and his negotiator role with the police and that, prior to coming to Jambalyn, he’d been seconded to the department of defence and been overseas.

  But she’d had no idea he’d spent the last year counselling defence personnel in such danger zones as Iraq and Afghanistan. Her heart thudded, thinking about him in such risky environments.

  If she’d hadn’t known from that first day on the bridge that he was utterly impressive, she certainly did now.

  And if that wasn’t extraordinary enough, he smiled and then started to talk and commanded the attention of every single person in the room from the second he opened his delectable mouth.

  And it wasn’t just the women.

  His presence dominated the stage and the audience hung on his every word. Like a Shakespearian actor or an ancient Greek orator?captivating, compelling, charismatic.

  He spoke for an hour, presenting his paper, ‘The Shadows of Vietnam: Forty Years On’, and Callie doubted whether a single person moved a muscle throughout. His voice and the subject matter were mesmerising and Callie was totally drawn into the complex i
ssue.

  Stats, clinical research and observations of the continuing effects on family units of psychologically damaged soldiers who’d fought a lengthy, controversial war were outlined. Sebastian talked about another generation of children growing up in the shadow of the Asian conflict as grandchildren of veterans suffered the long-term consequences of having a parent grow up in a dysfunctional family unit dominated by PTSD and other attributable psychological conditions.

  The speech was made all the more poignant because Callie knew he spoke from the heart. As a child born into a family unit completely broken by mental illness, she could tell that this wasn’t just distant clinical observation and conjecture.

  There was a depth of honesty in his words that couldn’t be garnered from research and clinical practice alone. Listening to him, it was evident that he truly understood the subject matter. That he was intimate with it in a way that clinicians who hadn’t lived it weren’t.

  For Sebastian, this was personal.

  Callie could barely breathe, thinking about the type of things Sebastian must have witnessed, must have had to deal with growing up. Things a child shouldn’t ever have to confront. Things that rob children of their precious carefree years. That could irrevocably damage them.

  The mere thought of a bewildered red-headed boy—vulnerable, worried and old beyond his years—clawed at her gut.

  It was always the children that suffered.

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes and she shut her eyes hard to deny the moisture an outlet.

  Later that afternoon Callie stood in her hotel room, her hand on the doorknob in mid-twist. She hesitated. Dropped her hand. Then changed her mind and reached for it again. Then dropped it once more as her heart galloped in her chest.

  She should just leave it alone. Keep things the way they were. On an even keel. Crossing the hallway and knocking on Sebastian’s door would be a stupid move. She was too emotional at the moment. His presentation had really struck a chord and affected her.

  But try as she may, she just couldn’t get the image of that little red-haired boy out of her head.

  Except the Sebastian in the room opposite was far from a little boy