Page 3 of One Night with the Doctor

‘I’m right behind you.’

‘Just as long as you’re not checking out my ass,’ she threw over her shoulder as she strode away.

Sebastian watched her stalk off and smiled for the first time today, following at a more sedate pace, absolutely checking out her ass for a beat or two. Callie Duncan was a revelation – stubborn but utterly sure of herself and clearly completely unconcerned by others opinions of her.

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. A lot. 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 that ass. That very interesting ass. In fact, Callie Duncan was interesting all over.

And he liked that too.

He put her age in the late thirties – so, only a couple of years younger than his own forty – and was relieved that she wasn’t some twenty-year-old new grad all peppy and cute with stars in her eyes out to change the world.

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 and confident – her Amazonian frame moving with single-minded purpose.

She was gutsy and he admired the hell out of that.

As for what she had inside that lacy bra… yeah, that was hardly appropriate right now.

‘What the hell’s going on, Noelene?’

Callie’s irritation grew as she half tripped on a cord snaking across the ground near the barricades the police had erected to cordon off the area. No doubt what’s-his-name wouldn’t approve of it as an opening statement, and cutting to the chase wouldn’t be a tactic she would recommend on just anybody, but she knew Noelene well enough to know she could take it.

‘Oh, thank God, Callie, it’s you.’ The breeze whipped brittle, grey-blonde strands of hair across the gaunt, prematurely aging face of the mother of four. ‘I was just out for a walk… thinking.’

Noelene moved closer to the railing and Callie’s gaze followed the movement, excruciatingly aware of everything that had happened here eight years ago. And of a certain sexy, red-haired, negotiator and the rest of what appeared to be the city’s police force watching her intently.

She was confident that Noelene wasn’t intending on ending her life today but, it would be a costly error of judgement if she was wrong.

Keeping her gaze trained firmly on Noelene’s anxious eyes, her heart thudded like thunder in her chest.

She hated this damn bridge.

Actually, she hated heights generally, so she wasn’t great on any bridge but this one in particular really messed with her head. Not that she was going to let any of the city’s finest catch a glimpse of the screaming girly inside.

Nope she was going to ignore the heights thing and the history she had with this bridge and the fact she really would rather be anywhere else but here and just get this done.

‘With a gun?’

Noelene looked down at the object as if seeing it for the first time. ‘What? This?’ She waved it in the air as if it wasn’t a potentially lethal killing device.

Callie heard the mass unlocking of safeties and sensed the closing in of every policeman on the bridge as the tension in the scene ratcheted up several notches.

‘Noelene.’ Callie raised her hands in a stopping motion, moving herself in front of her client making it hard for any nervous nellies on the bridge to get a clear shot. ‘You’re making the cops really jumpy. And trust me, you don’t want that. Is it even loaded?’

Noelene frowned. ‘Of course not. I have four kids at home. You think I’d have a loaded gun lying around?’

Right. Just as Callie had suspected. She held her hand out for it. ‘Can I have the gun?’

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

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