Rescued by the Dreamy Doc. Amy Andrews

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