Rescued by the Dreamy Doc

Amy Andrews

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright

About the Author

AMY ANDREWS has always loved writing, and still can’t quite believe that she gets to do it for a living. Creating wonderful heroines and gorgeous heroes and telling their stories is an amazing way to pass the day. Sometimes they don’t always act as she’d like them to—but then neither do her kids, so she’s kind of used to it. Amy lives in the very beautiful Samford Valley, with her husband and aforementioned children, along with six brown chooks and two black dogs. She loves to hear from her readers. Drop her a line at www.amyandrews.com.au

To my amazing editor Lucy, who said yes when everyone else said no. You gave me wings.

And to Phillip. Come back to us. We love you.

When their gazes swept each other’s paths there was the merest moment of 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, sizzling 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 ONE

SOME days you just weren’t meant to get out of bed. For Sebastian Walker today was one of those days. His first day on call as a police negotiator in a new city, a new state, and he’d hit the ground running. He was supposed to be spending the day putting his riverside apartment to rights. But his pager hadn’t co-operated.

Thank God it wasn’t a full-time gig.

He navigated past the multitude of half-opened boxes that sat strewn all over his floors and seemed to be multiplying in every room. After a year in far-flung foreign hotspots he craved the familiarity of his things but today obviously wasn’t going to be the day to get reacquainted.

He swallowed the last of his toast as he knotted his gun-metal grey tie. His pager bleeped again as he shut his front door on the mess.

I’m coming. I’m coming.

‘What have we got?’ Sebastian asked fifteen minutes later, after approaching the hive of police activity and flashing his credentials to the officer in charge.

‘Jumper. With a gun. Her name’s Noelene. She won’t say anything else. Refuses to talk to us. Says she’ll only talk to Callie Duncan.’

Sebastian heard the cluster of groans around him as he strapped on the bulletproof vest he was handed. ‘Who’s Callie Duncan?’

A pain-in-the-butt community mental health worker.’

Sebastian nodded. ‘Okay. Let’s get her in here while I have a little chat with Noelene.’

‘Callie, call for you on line one.’

Geraldine Russell, head social worker and director of the Jambalyn Community Centre held out the receiver and placed it in the crook of Callie’s shoulder as she watched her colleague juggle a stack of charts in one hand and her pager in the other.

Callie shrugged her shoulder high so the phone fitted snugly against her ear. ‘Yo’, she said.

Gerri watched her friend nod a couple of times and then say, ‘I’ll be there in fifteen.’

Callie dropped her shoulder and Gerri hung up the phone. She raised an elegantly groomed eyebrow. ‘Be where in fifteen?’

‘Grey St Bridge. They think Noelene Sykes is going to jump. She’s asking for me,’ she said casually as she dumped the charts on her overflowing desk, knowing Gerri was going to go ballistic.

‘Oh, no.’ Gerri’s impressive bosom shook with the vigorous shake of her head.

Callie grinned. Gerri was a large Aboriginal woman whose statuesque presence carried an undeniable authority. Not many people crossed her and only the exceedingly foolish couldn’t see beyond the dramatic tribal-print flowing caftans she wore to the savvy, street-wise operator beneath.

‘It’s Noelene, Gerri. Noelene. As if Noelene’s going to jump off a bridge. There’s obviously been some mis-communication. She’s asking for me.’

‘No. Not that bridge. Not today.’

Callie smiled at her friend and colleague of ten years, knowing she was just trying to protect her. ‘Yes.’

‘I’ll go. I’ll do it.’

Callie shook her head. ‘She wants me.’

‘No’.

Callie picked up her keys. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘Callie Duncan, you walk out of those doors and I’m firing you.’

Callie grinned over her shoulder. ‘Ha! Promises, promises.’ They both knew they were chronically understaffed and they needed all the good people they could get.

And Callie Duncan was very, very good at her job.

Callie snorted and placed her hands on her hips, staring down the insistent male whose name she’d already forgotten in her haste to get to Noelene. She didn’t care if he was a cop or, for that matter, so damn sexy he could have been in the movies.

He was in her way—that was all that mattered.

‘Noelene is not going to shoot me.’

Sebastian returned her blazing amber gaze with a much-practised calm, pale green one of his own, dropping his head to the side a little and stretching his neck. He repeated the process on the other side before straightening.

‘You’re not going out there until you put it on.’

Callie glared up at him, all brooding, broad immovable male. Way up. At six feet in her comfortable flats, craning her neck wasn’t something she did much of but with this man it was a necessity.

The morning sun shone on his red hair, gilding the golden highlights. He wore it closely cropped at the back and sides but longer on top where it flopped across his forehead. His ginger brows rose above the palest peridot eyes.

He had a fashionable three-day growth of stubble stretched along his strong jaw and long-faded freckles gave his complexion a lived-in look, hinting at summer days on the beach and a penchant for surfing. Spare cheekbones sloped to interesting hollows near his mouth.

And his lips? Oh, man, don’t get her started on those suckers.

Frankly he was sexy as hell.

The admission irritated her even more. She was working, for crying out loud!

‘It’s not necessary,’ she insisted, desperate to claw back some control of normally sane thought processes. ‘I’ve known her for ten years. She’s not dangerous.’

He pushed the offending item towards her. ‘Maybe. But it’s the only way you’re going out on that bridge.’

His voice was deep and even with a slight gravelly quality. Very measured. Very calm. But there was an edge to it that brooked no argument.

Damn cops!

Behind what’s-his-name she could see that their little stand-off was drawing quite a crowd. Most of the cops she recognised. You didn’t work for a decade in this business without having a close working relationship—sometimes love, sometimes hate—with the police. And she’d worked long and hard to gain their respect.

Sure, she knew they regarded her as a right royal pain in their posteriors. But she also knew there was grudging respect—she was the first one they rang when they had a situation or needed advice—and she was damned if she was going to cede it to this man.

Not without throwing down a gauntlet or two.

It was imperative, particularly that the three very interested, very rookie-looking officers standing behind knew she didn’t wilt at the first sign of authority. She needed them to know she wasn’t afraid of them and that her client’s needs would always come first.

‘Fine,’ she said through gritted teeth, grasping her loose black T-shirt by the hem and hauling it off over her head. She glared right into his peridot eyes, ignoring the guffaws and wolf whistles, and held out her hand. ‘Give me the damn vest.’

Callie gave him his due. While the jaws of the three fresh-faced newbies dropped to the ground, he didn’t bat an eyelid. He didn’t even lower his gaze for a quick once-over of her lace-clad assets, like every other male in the vicinity. He just passed her the offending item and waited with crossed arms over a chest broadened further by his own Kevlar padding for her to put it on.

‘You know you could have just put it on over the top of your shirt, right?’ he said after she’d rectified her clothing.

‘Not likely,’ she snapped. ‘Do you think a bulletproof vest engenders trust?’ Did the man get his negotiator skills in a cereal packet? ‘Can I go now?’

He swept his hand in a flourish before her, indicating she should precede him. The action pulled his half rolled-up sleeves a little higher and she noticed thick reddish-blond hairs gracing strong, freckle-faded forearms.

‘I’m right behind you.’

‘Imagine my surprise,’ she threw over her shoulder, tossing her head.

∗ ∗ ∗

Sebastian watched her stalk off and smiled for the first time today, following at a more sedate pace. Callie Duncan was one angry female! It wasn’t often in this field that he met someone who didn’t seem to know or even care who he was, and he liked it. It was refreshing.

She was refreshing.

He kept his eyes firmly glued to her back, distracted by the vigorous swish of her shoulder-length auburn hair as she strode towards her goal. The sun picked up the honey streaks and for a moment he felt like he was on the set of a shampoo commercial.

Her back was ramrod straight—Kevlar would do that to a person. And her long-legged stride pulled the denim of her jeans across a backside that was…interesting.

In fact, Callie Duncan was just plain interesting all over.

And he liked that too.

And despite her stern glare he could tell she was used to laughing. Her mouth tilted up, as did her incredible amber eyes, and there were soft laughter lines emphasising their appeal.

He put her in her late thirties and was relieved that she wasn’t some twenty-something, new grad all peppy and cute with stars in her eyes out to change the world. In fact, nothing about Callie Duncan said peppy and cute.

But, then, neither did she seem jaded, like so many people of her age working in a field where triumphs were small and thanks almost non-existent. Instead, striding towards her goal, she looked strong and fearless. Committed. Confident.

Her Amazonian frame moved with single-minded purpose.

As for what she had inside that lacy black bra…he put that thought firmly to one side.

‘Oh, thank God, Callie, it’s you.’

‘What’s going on, Noelene?’ Callie grouched as she tripped slightly over one of the barricades the police had used to cordon off the area. No doubt what’s-his-name wouldn’t approve of it as an opening statement but she knew Noelene well enough to know she could take it.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t hyper-aware of a certain sexy red-haired negotiator and the rest of what appeared to be the city’s police force watching her intently.

‘I was just out for a walk…thinking,’ the hollow-cheeked mother of four said, the breeze whipping wispy blonde strands of hair across her gaunt, prematurely aging face.

Noelene moved closer to the railing. Callie’s gaze followed her movement, aware of the drop behind. She kept her gaze trained firmly on Noelene’s anxious eyes as her heart thudded like thunder in her chest.

She would not look down.

She hated heights.

And she certainly wouldn’t let any of the city’s finest catch a glimpse of the screaming girly inside.

She hated this damn bridge. Any bridge, actually, but this one in particular.

‘With a gun?’

Noelene looked down at the gun as if seeing it for the first time. ‘What, this?’ she asked, waving it in the air.

Callie heard the unlocking of safeties and sensed the closing in of every policeman behind as they drew a little nearer, tensed a little further, poised for action.

‘Noelene,’ she said, raising her hands in a stop motion. ‘You’re making the cops really nervous. Is it even loaded?’

Noelene frowned at her. ‘Of course not.’

Just as she’d suspected. ‘Can I have the gun?’ Callie held out her hand for it.

Noelene looked at the weapon. ‘It was Dad’s.’

After a quick review of her client’s chart, Callie knew it was a year to the day that Noelene’s father had passed away. She nodded. ‘I know.’

Noelene handed it to her meekly and Callie heard the loud snicker as who knew how many safeties were restored to their off positions and guns were holstered. She passed it back to what’s-his-name.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. ‘Unloaded. Fancy that,’ she muttered. ‘Think you can call your boys off now?’

Sebastian smiled at her defiant expression. Her bluster was very, very sexy and it reminded him that it had been a very long time since he’d been with a woman.

Since before the Gulf.

His gaze dropped to her mouth for a second, wanting to kiss that smug look away before returning to her face. ‘Oh, I know you know that’s not how this works.’

Callie swallowed. The gravel in his voice slid into all her empty places. Her lips felt as if he’d actually stroked his tongue along them and she curtailed the urge to taste them.

How was it possible to be exceedingly irritated and exceedingly turned on at the same time?

Sucking in a steadying breath, she gave him a grudging nod. ‘Yeah, yeah, I know.’

‘Bring her in,’ he murmured.

Callie nodded and turned, walking the few paces back to Noelene, who was now leaning on the rail, looking down at the river sparkling in the morning sunshine.

‘Dad loved this bridge,’ she said absently. ‘He helped build it, you know? He used to always bring us kids here.’

Callie nodded. ‘Do you think we can talk away from here, Noelene? I really don’t like heights.’

Noelene nodded, moving slowly towards her. ‘I just thought it would be fitting, you know, to mark his anniversary. His service weapon was his most treasured possession. I thought it’d be…right to throw it off the bridge. He was in Korea, you know?’

Callie nodded, holding out her arm and putting it around Noelene’s shoulders. ‘I know,’ she murmured. ‘You can tell me about it on the way to the police station.’

Noelene looked at her. ‘I was just looking down at the water, minding my own business.’ She frowned. ‘And this cop car pulled up, telling me not to jump…I had no intention of jumping. But they were yelling and coming towards me and I got scared.’

‘I know. Don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted. I’ll be with you.’

‘I need to be there to pick the kids up from school.’

‘Yep. Don’t worry, I’ll be with you, expediting the process.’

They reached the barricade. What’s-his-name held out his hand for Noelene and helped her through the maze of barricades. Callie was grudgingly impressed by his gentle smile and his unhurried demeanour as he made sure Noelene didn’t trip.

Then he turned back to her. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, holding out his hand.

Callie’s gaze locked with his and she felt a giddy shift—not something she welcomed, standing on a bridge.

But, damn, the man was sexy. His frank gaze, his lips curled into a slight smile, his height and breadth surrounding her, his voice oozing over her like warm honey.

The background noises faded, their surroundings dimmed, as time and motion coalesced in this one electric moment. If they’d been in a bar she would have taken his hand and led him to the nearest dark corner.

But they weren’t. They were on a bridge—a damn bridge, for crying out loud—surrounded by what seemed like a hundred policemen. She ignored the hand. ‘All in a days work.’

‘Hey, Zack, how’s it going?’ Callie asked, the phone pressed to one ear as she blindly hooked a hoop earring into her other ear.

‘Good thanks, Aunty Cal.’

Callie smiled at her ten-year-old nephew’s chirpy greeting. It was good to hear her little man’s voice. Since he’d gone back to live with his mother a couple of months ago she hadn’t known what to do with herself. Some of the anxiety that had knotted her stomach over the heart-wrenching decision had dissipated, but after eight years in her care, it was hard to let go entirely.

And he would always be her brother’s son.

‘How’d you do in the cross-country today?’

‘I came second! You should have seen me, Aunty Cal.’

Callie’s heart strings twanged painfully. She hadn’t missed a school event since he’d started pre-school six years ago. But she was trying to step back, give Aleisha a chance to bond with her son.

‘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, sizzling 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 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 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.

She dropped her hand. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t resist it.’

Sebastian, his forehead tingling, held her gaze for a little longer then nodded. Whether she knew it or not, she did need to talk. ‘My place is ten minutes away. I have…’he looked down and grimaced at his cappuccino ‘…hot coffee.’

It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a command. It was just there, and the way she 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 even now, tearing 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.

He 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.

Callie frowned, dragging her gaze from the alabaster river below, and looked round, her shoulder brushing his chest. She hadn’t even noticed them. ‘I didn’t notice.’

Sebastian nodded slowly. ‘Callie. The bridge?’

She shook her head. ‘No.’

He regarded her quietly. ‘You know, maybe it’d help if you—’

Callie leaned forward and kissed him, cutting off the words she already knew back to front. It was a fierce kiss. Hard. She didn’t open her mouth, neither did he. But she felt it right down to her toes.

‘The only therapy I want tonight,’ she said, inching slightly back from his mouth, ‘involves us being horizontal.’ She snaked her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his again.

Sebastian felt her words all the way down to his groin. And when her tongue lapped against his lips, seeking entrance to his mouth, he granted it on a strangled groan, burying his fingers in her hair.

It felt good to be kissing a woman again. To get lost in one. To feel curves pressed against him and suck in all that sweet female aroma with each jerky breath. And not just any woman. A sassy but vulnerable 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—desperate? his conscience pricked at him. Even though he couldn’t think of a time when he’d been this aroused, he knew this was about more than hot stranger sex for Callie.

The psychologist in him knew there were bigger things driving her.

Her fingers had worked three buttons undone by the time he managed to pull himself out of the sexual fire scorching his common sense. He covered her hands.

‘Stop,’ he whispered, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks. ‘Hold on for a moment.’

He ignored her mewed protest and the fascinating sight of her ravaged mouth. ‘Why don’t we get that coffee first?’

Callie, still dazed and weak-kneed, would have slumped to the floor had she not been leaning against him. She returned her ministrations to his neck, feeling the spike of bristles against her tongue. ‘I don’t want a coffee,’ she murmured.

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, give her unlimited access. Just.

‘Callie,’ he groaned, opening his eyes as her lips trekked towards his shoulder. ‘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.’

Callie smiled against his collarbone. The poor man was really trying to do the right thing. But pressed into her pelvis she could feel how hard he was for her, and the convulsive clutch of his hands at her hips spoke volumes.

‘Relax,’ she murmured. ‘I promise it won’t hurt.’

Sebastian chuckled. ‘That’s not what I’m worried about.’

Callie smiled again, the rumble of his voice tickling her lips as she returned her mouth to the strong column of his throat.

He pulled back slightly and felt her lips leave his skin. ‘I’d hate you to regret this is the morning.’

Callie sighed. His honourable streak was commendable. She didn’t know too many men who wouldn’t take instant full advantage of what she was offering. ‘I’m a big girl, Sebastian. I know what I’m doing.’

She rubbed his collar point between her thumb and forefinger. ‘Or is it that a sexually aggressive woman threatens your masculinity?’

Sebastian regarded her seriously as she morphed back into Callie from the bridge. Bolshie and defiant. A man could get whiplash trying to keep up with her Jekyll-and-Hyde act.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Which one was she? The man in him found the challenge irresistible. And looking down at her moist lips and blazing amber eyes, he had to admit it’d be fun finding out.

He smiled. ‘Not me. I’m exceedingly evolved. I love sexually aggressive women. In fact…’ he pushed a lock of her hair off her shoulder ‘.I think they should take over the world.’

Callie laughed. ‘Interesting thought.’

Sebastian joined her. But it was hard to concentrate when their bodies were pressed together so intimately and just her laughter was enough to cause a delicious friction between them.

He sobered. ‘I need you to be sure, Callie.’

She sucked in a breath at the intenseness of his gaze. It took her right back to the bridge and the instant magnetism she’d felt. ‘Would you like me to sign a disclaimer?’

He shook his head. ‘Let’s just seal it with a kiss, shall we?’ And then he lowered his head.

Callie felt the flash of heat erupt down low the second his lips touched hers and she groaned, raking her fingers into his hair. She could hear his ragged breath loud in her ears and revelled in his no-holds-barred kiss.

Finally he was kissing her without reservation. Like she was a full-blooded, passionate woman. Not a fragile one. Not an about-to-fall-apart one.

And, man, did it feel good!

She broke off, her head spinning, pulse racing, breathing loud in the silence. They really needed to get horizontal. She looked around at the obviously half-unpacked apartment.

‘You have got a bed, right? I’m getting too old for the floor.’

Sebastian smiled, took her hand and led her through a maze of boxes into his bedroom. ‘Ta-da. A bed.’

Callie grinned. ‘So it is.’ More moonlight streamed through uncurtained glass and she walked in, sidestepping another two boxes. She sat on the edge and gave an experimental bounce. ‘This will do very nicely,’ she murmured.

He was lounging in the doorway, watching her with the same direct gaze from the restaurant. From the bridge. He was too far away.

‘You’re a long way away. And you’re too dressed.’

Sebastian smiled. ‘Hmm, whatever can we do about that?’

Callie looked at him for the longest time before leaning back on her elbows and crossing one leg over the other. ‘Take off your clothes.’

Her husky request stroked feathers along his groin. ‘You do like to be in charge, don’t you?’

Callie rotated her ankle, one strappy black heel dangling from her toes. ‘You’ve got to ask for what you want.’

Sebastian chuckled as he straightened and started on the buttons she hadn’t managed to undo. Callie could feel her breath getting shorter as each button revealed glimpses of a magnificent chest, and she almost sighed out loud when he shrugged his shoulders and the shirt fell away to reveal the stunning breadth of him.

Just as she’d hoped, the events of the day evaporated.

His pecs and abs were taut and flat, smooth, framed by broad shoulders and very nice biceps. She could almost feel the weight of him crowding on top of her, pushing her into the bed, moving inside her.

Her gaze drifted south, wondering if what was below his zip was as magnificent as the rest of him. She forced her gaze back to his face. She used her foot to point to his jeans. ‘And those.’

Sebastian had felt his breath stop in his lungs as her eyes had feasted on his chest and then dropped lower. ‘Yes ma’am.’ He saluted, a smile playing on his mouth as he reached for his button.

Thirty seconds later he had kicked free of his jeans and was standing before her, all but naked, watching her eyes roving over him. His thighs. His calves. His crotch. His breathing sawed in and out, in and out, waiting for her next move.

‘Oh, my,’ she murmured, pushing off her elbows into a sitting position and then rising off the bed. He looked incredible.

She just had to touch him.

She stopped in front of him, a centimetre separating them, his knowing, patient gaze boring into hers, dropping to her mouth then returning to her eyes. His clean male scent wafted towards her, making her nostrils flare.

She stroked a hand down his chest, holding his gaze, moving her mouth a little closer to his. His warm muscles shifted beneath her palm, hinting at their leashed potential. Her fingernail circled the hollow of his belly button and she felt the powerful contraction of his flat abdominals.

Dropping lower still, her hand brushed the hard ridge of his erection and she withdrew slightly before returning to trace the outline of it through his underwear. Callie smiled as Sebastian shut his eyes briefly.

When he opened them again Callie was looking directly at him. Her lips were a whisper from his. All he needed to do was move the barest amount and he could be plundering all their sweet plumpness. But he held himself in check, waited for her to make a move.

Callie could hear his ragged breath, could almost taste it as it mingled with her own. Her throat felt parched, her lips dry, despite her mouth watering at the thought of kissing him.

Her fingers stopped tracing the thick edge of him and wrapped around him, squeezing. She saw the bob of Sebastian’s throat. ‘Nice,’ she murmured, and kissed his Adam’s apple, brushed her lips across the flutter of the pulse either side then dipped to the hollow at the base of his throat before inching back to look at him again.

Sebastian didn’t think it was possible to get harder, but he was wrong as their gazes meshed and her hand continued its firm grip around him. ‘You have too many clothes on,’ he croaked.

Callie smiled. ‘Whatever can we do about that?’ she mimicked.

‘Take them off.’

CHAPTER THREE

SEBASTIAN’S husky command brushed against her sensitised skin as if he had actually touched her.

Callie stepped away slightly, swallowing, her hands trembling as she reached for her buttons. Sebastian’s gaze was firmly locked on their action. She felt her stomach clench and her nipples become two painful points, rubbing erotically against her bra as she fumbled with the top button beneath Sebastian’s stare.

She faltered for a moment.

She wasn’t ashamed of her body. Being the tallest female by far growing up may have been a fault to focus on for a normal girl in a normal family, but things had been so far from normal at home that Callie had never had the luxury of worrying about what other people thought about her.

Including lovers.

But, undressing before his intent gaze, she felt a moment of doubt. Sebastian wasn’t just any lover. Somehow he was different and every cell in her soul knew it.

And she wasn’t twenty years old and stick thin. Not that she’d ever been stick thin. Unfortunately her large-boned genetics and size eleven feet would never put her in the waif group. And Sebastian looked like he was a man who could have any woman he wanted?especially the stick-thin ones.

Men liked stick thin, didn’t they?

She couldn’t even claim to be curvy. She was more straight up and down, long, strong limbs and athletic torso. She’d bet anything he had curvy women throwing themselves at him on a daily basis.

Men definitely liked curvy.

Sebastian saw her hands pause and a slither of doubt cloud her bright amber gaze. ‘Callie?’

She looked at him, all honed perfect male, and looked down at herself, avoiding his gaze. ‘I’m…’ Her voice cracked a little and she shook herself.

This had never mattered before?she was a busy professional woman who was confident in her abilities, sexual and otherwise. She had no problems in asking for, and getting, what she wanted in bed. More than that, she was a take-it-or-leave-it kind of a girl. What you saw was what you got.

But this felt…different. Something about him, even after such short acquaintance, gave her pause. She’d never gone to bed with someone after knowing them for less than a day. How could a man who was essentially a stranger have had such a cataclysmic affect on her?

For someone who was used to being in control, that was more than a little scary. But perversely she also felt…safe.

She moistened her lips. ‘I’m not twenty any more, you know?’

Sebastian was curiously touched by another seemingly uncharacteristic display. She was doing it again?changing before his eyes. From full-on sexually confident vixen to hesitant and doubtful. Almost shy.

Callie Duncan was one hell of a confusing mix.

‘Well, thank goodness for that. Twenty-year-olds are vastly overrated.’ He kept it light but it was one hundred per cent true—younger women tended to be clingy and needy and had way too many expectations.

Callie gave a half-smile. ‘Still…’

‘Callie?’ he said softly. ‘Does it look like I care?’

Callie’s gaze dropped to the large bulge in his underwear. She smiled. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, those things are not known for their fussiness.’

He didn’t smile back. ‘This one is.’ He watched her hesitate further. ‘Do you need a hand with that?’

Callie heard the silky challenge. He probably thought she was being silly. She lifted her chin. ‘I think I can manage.’

And just like that she was back again.

Sebastian would have been dizzy had he not been so turned on.

Callie’s fingers were surer as they popped each button and then quickly dispensed of her shirt. She wiggled out of her trousers in record time, thankful for the presence of the nearby wall. And then she was standing before him in her underwear, burning up from the heat in the slow, steady sweep of his appreciative gaze.

He lifted his hand and pointed to her bra. ‘That too.’

Callie’s eyes locked with his and she smiled as she reached behind her back for the clasp. Did she push her chest out a little more than necessary? Damn straight she did. The satisfying suck of his harshly indrawn breath made it worthwhile.

Sebastian felt air hiss out of his lungs as Callie’s breasts swung free. They were pert, with large moonlight-kissed nipples that scrunched into tight berries as he stared at them. The bottom of her silver pendant brushed the swell of her cleavage. His mouth watered as he anticipated how they would taste.

He waited a beat or two then pushed out of the doorway and prowled the two paces separating them. He placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly ran them down her upper arms, his eyes glued to her breasts. He stopped midway and squeezed the firm warm flesh covering her biceps, pressing her arms closer to her body and pushing her breasts a little closer together.

‘Oh, my,’ he mimicked.

And then he turned her slightly, walking her a pace backwards until she bumped against the wall. He just caught her shiver as the cold paintwork hit her heated flesh before his mouth latched on to hers and all coherent thought was lost.

Callie opened to the demands of his lips, moaning against his mouth, winding her arms around his neck, revelling in the hard press of the wall behind sandwiching her against the lean, hard pressure of him.

She whimpered in protest as his lips left hers but moaned out loud when his hot mouth closed over one of her nipples a second later. She flung her head back against the wall, dragging in fiery air, twining her fingers into his hair, holding him there.

Another moan escaped as he sucked hard on the sensitive peak.

Sebastian pulled away, admiring the expressison of tortured ecstasy scrunching her brow. Her head was thrown back, her neck a tempting arc before him. Her swollen mouth had fallen open, her lips slack with passion and still moist from his ministrations.

She opened her eyes and he could see heat flaring in the amber depths and her dilated pupils as a mewed protest fell from her lips.

A surge of male pride rocketed into his system, ratcheting his craving to possess her even further. ‘You’re beautiful.’

The ragged whisper brushed sticky tentacles across her pelvic floor. Her breath hitched. She yanked at his head. ‘Don’t stop.’

Callie’s knees almost crumbled when he complied, lavishing attention on her other breast. She gripped his shoulders, warm and solid beneath her palms, for purchase. The action pressed her closer still and she could feel the virile thickness of his erection as it rubbed against her.

She had to touch him.

Her hands drifted lower as he reclaimed her lips with a neck-snapping passion. She moaned into his mouth, and the muscles in his back rippled in response. When her fingers breeched the band of his underwear and she grasped his bottom, she felt the involuntary clench of his smooth gluteal muscles.

And when her hand sought and found the long hard length of him, squeezed him, his groan was soul-deep satisfying. He tore his mouth away, placing his forehead on hers, dragging in harsh breaths. Callie squeezed again, and he grasped her upper arms and growled, ‘I think we need to lie down now.’

He caught her hand and dragged her towards the bed, somehow managing to step out of his underwear as well. And then they were tumbling onto the mattress and Callie’s underwear was gone until all she was wearing was a silver necklace and two hoop earrings.

And then they were lapping at every inch of each other’s bodies like they were covered in honey and neither of them had eaten for days.

‘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.

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