Rescued by the Dreamy Doc. Amy Andrews

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