by Amy Andrews
And, Christ, she’d flashed him!
Callie sat. So did he. ‘I’m sorry...I thought.” She felt like a complete airhead. She should have paid more attention to the introductions at the bridge. “This morning. I thought you were a cop?’
Hell, 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, by and large, a great big boys’ club. And, as with a lot of boys, bragging often got the better of them. A close psychologist 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 slowly frying in the heat of his stare, it came a poor second.
He shook his head. ‘Afraid not.’ Then he grinned. Clearly he was enjoying this element of surprise. ‘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 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 into the conversation. ‘We heard you flashed every cop in Brisbane this morning. I think the news helicopters even got a gawk. You’re 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 this morning and to keep his eyes up, 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.
It made Callie think about the secluded alley just outside. It wasn’t the Hilton but it was dark and private and, most importantly, close and to hell with inhibitions and social mores.
She dragged her gaze from Sebastian and gave a careless shrug as she got her head back in the conversation. ‘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. Geri and Donald were social workers. Nell 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 very clearly liked each other - respected each other - and he looked forward to working with them in the challenging setting 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 all of them except Callie. She was distracted. Or maybe that was distracting.
The way she talked and smiled as she indulged in banter with her friends was distracting. The way she dropped her head to one side as she listened and absently ran the silver pendant at her throat along its chain, was distracting. And when she laughed? Very distracting. Full and throaty as if it had come all the way from her toes, her eyes crinkling, her head tossing, her neck bared to view.
Other diners looked around at her laughter and smiled.
And then there was the enticing shadow of that deep V neckline and the soft cling of fabric to her breasts. And the way, when their gazes swept each other’s paths, like two opposing lighthouse signals, there was the merest pause before hers skittered away. But in that fraction of time, it was as if they were the only two people in the restaurant.
It was actually kind of exhausting, this level of awareness. The slow but inexorable build of tension tightening every muscle, sizzling along every nerve ending when all he wanted was to fast-forward to the end and the kiss that he knew, deep in his bones, was the inevitable conclusion.
The kiss that 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 was powerless to its pull. Even when Geri 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,’ Geri agreed.
‘That would be lovely,’ Callie murmured.
She should have declined. She knew that. But that unruly lock of hair flopping across his forehead overrode all her common sense. No seemed to have been stricken from her vocabulary. Besides, Geri 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 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 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 guy like that 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 and her shaking hands 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 was like a lump of lead in her belly.
Geri placed a hand over hers. ‘Are you okay?’
Callie looked up into Geri’s concerned eyes. She could see a frown knitting Sebastian’s brows in her peripheral vision and her gaze darted to him 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 all the way through to Zack’s little-boy voice, and her lungs suddenly felt too small and there wasn’t enough air.
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.
Where was his tall, proud Amazon from this morning, her eyes a’blazing?
He’d wanted to kiss that woman on the bridge senseless. This Callie looked like she was about to faint and, curiously, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and shield her fr
om the big bad world. ‘Excuse me,’ he murmured.
Sebastian strode over to where the commotion was taking place, drawing level with the table just as the abusive dick finished suggesting that the obviously itinerant man get a job. ‘Have you quite finished?’
It wasn’t in Sebastian’s demeanour to 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 dickhead needed to learn some manners.
‘I...I beg your pardon?’ The younger man 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 but quickly paled when he realised that Sebastian had four inches and several muscles groups on him.
‘Someone who doesn’t need to prove himself by being a dick.’
‘Look...I’m sorry, mate.’ He held up his hands in a placatory manner. ‘I didn’t mean any harm.’
Sebastian jaw tightened. This guy was a bully. Picking on someone helpless but backing down at the first sign of superior strength. He needed to apologise but the homeless man had obviously seen his opportunity and fled the ugly scene. Sebastian located him across the street shuffling away, his shoulders slumped.
Callie glanced at her hands as she heard Sebastian suggesting that the man bring his best manners next time he came out. He was being amazing—calm but firm—but her palms were sweaty and her heart hammered and she felt ridiculously like bursting into tears. Pressure built in her chest and she suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
She stood. ‘I...I need some air.’
Geri 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, spying the hunched old man farther down the street and hurrying 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 must have followed her, walked towards her slowly as she retraced her steps to the restaurant. ‘You okay?’ he asked as he reached her side.
Callie stopped, too emotional to meet Sebastian’s eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek. She’d kept it together all day and she would not fall apart now. She would not let the memories take over.
Her brother. Years of not knowing where he was. Not knowing if he was alive or dead. The bridge. And Zack. So many memories.
But they would not break her. Not right now.
She cleared her throat. ‘Fine.’
He didn’t look like he believed her but he did seem okay with letting it go. ‘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 that he’d seen her like this – the opposite of that woman from the bridge this morning. And she didn’t need his pity. ‘Well, we can’t have that,’ she quipped, raising her chin as she strode towards the restaurant.
Geraldine rose when they arrived back at the table. She looked from one to the other, back and forth for a beat or two. ‘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 cappuccino 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 she wondered how it would feel to wrap herself up in all that intenseness and just forget every detail of this horrible day.
Geraldine’s phone rang, breaking the silence. She spoke briefly then ended the call. ‘Sorry,’ she apologised, standing abruptly. ‘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 Geri’s daughter and this was the first grandchild. ‘Oh, my God, Geri!’
‘I have to go.’
‘Of course,’ Callie urged. ‘Go.’
Geri glanced at Sebastian. ‘Can you see she gets home? ‘
“Don’t worry about me,” Callie dismissed. “I’ll get an Uber.”
“No need,” he said. Their eyes met for the first time since Callie had walked out of the restaurant. “I can give you a lift home.”
“There, see?” Geri nodded at Callie. “Sebastian can give you a lift home. All sorted.”
“Geri.” Callie tried really hard not to sound exasperated. “This isn’t important. Just go and meet that grandbaby already.”
Geri grinned but was clearly not going to leave without the last word. She turned to face Sebastian. ‘Ask her about the bridge.’
“Geri.”
Callie really wished her boss hadn’t dobbed her in like that but oh now she was hoofing it out of the restaurant. Which just left her and Sebastian. And the bridge.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he murmured.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Do you need to talk about the bridge?’
Callie’s gaze locked on his as she regarded him silently for a moment. ‘No.’
‘Really?’
“Yes.” Callie kept her response casual, like Geri was making a mountain out of a molehill because she really, really, really did not want to talk about that bloody bridge.
Damn Geri!
But his eyes held hers determinedly, probing her gaze, seeking answers, his fringe flopping distractingly over his forehead. Her fingers tingled to push it back and she wrapped her hands around her coffee cup as the impulse became more and more urgent.
Because that would be plain weird.
‘My place is ten minutes away.” His voice was a low burr in the night. “I have...’ He looked down and grimaced at his cappuccino. ‘Hot coffee. And I’ve been told I’m a reasonable conversationalist.’
It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a command. It was just there – an opportunity. The way Callie saw it, she could go home by herself and try not to think about the very thing she’d been avoiding all day - that hammered at her skull and tore at her shields.
Or she could go home with him.
But she sure as hell didn’t want coffee and conversation. Not tonight.
They didn’t speak as Sebastian drove the short distance to his apartment. They didn’t speak in the car park. Or the lift. Or as he opened his front door. Neither did they touch. Sebastian didn’t even switch on a light. Instead, he watched as Callie strode across his lounge room, dodging boxes, towards the moonlight streaming in through his uncurtained French doors.
‘Sorry ‘bout the mess,’ he murmured as he drew level with her, his chest close to her back, his lips near her ear.
She frowned, dragging her gaze from the alabaster river below, to look round, her shoulder brushing his chest. ‘I didn’t notice.’
Sebastian nodded slowly. Yeah...she really needed to talk. ‘Callie... The bridge?’
“No.” She shook her head.
‘You know, maybe it’d help if you—’
She kissed him then, leaning in and cutting off his words. It was a fierce kiss. Hard. She didn’t open her mouth, neither did he, but Sebastian felt her kiss right down to his toes.
‘The only therapy I want tonight,’ she said after inching slightly away from his mouth, ‘involves us being horizontal.’ Then she snaked her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his again.
Sebastian felt her words this time - all the way
down to his groin. And when her tongue lapped against his lips, seeking entrance to his mouth, he felt that in his dick and when he granted her access, her strangled little moan was felt deep, deep inside his balls.
It felt good to be kissing a woman again. To get lost in one. To have curves pressed against him, to push his fingers into soft, silky hair and suck in all that sweet female aroma with each jerky breath. And not just any woman. A sassy one who had blown his mind on a bridge a mere twelve hours ago and was doing her damnedest to blow it again.
But, as the kiss grew increasingly wild – increasingly desperate - his conscience pricked. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this aroused or hell, if he’d ever been this aroused, but he knew without a doubt this was about more than a quickie with a co-worker for Callie.
The psychologist in him knew there were bigger things driving her tonight.
Her fingers had worked three buttons undone by the time he managed to pull himself out of the sexual fire scorching his common sense. ‘Hang on,’ he whispered, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks as he covered her hands. ‘Wait a moment.’ She mewed a protest and the fascinating sight of her ravaged mouth almost brought him to his knees. ‘Why don’t we get that coffee first?’
‘I don’t want a coffee,’ she murmured against his throat.
Sebastian shut his eyes as her tongue stroked magic over his skin, whispering illicit promises into his pulse points. He resisted the urge to let his head fall back, to give her unlimited access. But only just.
‘Callie.’ He groaned as he forced his eyes open. Her lips were trekking towards his shoulder and he grabbed her hips convulsively as she started to rub herself against him a little. ‘I don’t think this is a wise idea. There’s obviously something troubling you...and using sex to obliterate issues isn’t a very good way to handle things.’
‘I promise I’ll be gentle.” Her lips meandered back to his neck.
Sebastian chuckled. ‘That’s not what I’m worried about.’ Her mouth returned to the column of his throat causing a wave of goose across his scalp. Christ...where was he? ‘I’d hate you to regret this is the morning.’