Page 32 of One Night with the Doctor

This was so crazy. She’d made it perfectly clear last night from her Cinderella act that she wanted to keep the status quo so he needed to push any images of her and him and the things they could do with a king-size bed firmly out of his mind.

Damn it, why had he come?

He was just… restless, that was all, after the unexpected emotion of his presentation. He hadn’t expected to feel so drained. And after a couple of hours of being with people who all wanted a piece of him, wanted him to be the Sebastian Walker, it was bliss to be with someone who had gone to great pains to not be with him.

Even if it was just sharing a beer and talking.

And when she’d opened the door and his gaze had taken in her silky, electric-blue blouse, the one she’d worn while presenting her paper earlier that day, he’d been lost.

His steps faltered as his gaze fell on another item of clothing. The purple dress was draped over the arm of a plush old-fashioned winged chair placed near the sliding door. Bloody hell, was the universe trying to kill him?

With clothes?

Unable to help himself, he ran his fingers over it as he passed. It wasn’t quite how he’d imagined getting his hands on the dress but it felt cool and glossy against the pads of his fingers.

And beggars could not be choosers.

They sat at the small table on the balcony and, for a few moments, Sebastian allowed the sights and the sounds of river life to absorb him. The chatter of people walking by, the laughter of little kids chasing each other on the bank, the putt putt of water traffic.

The Yarra looked like mercury in the afternoon light, the setting sun throwing dark shadows and tarnishing the water silvery black. Concentrating on it gave him something to look at other than Callie.

She cleared her throat. ‘I wanted to congratulate you on your paper,’ she said. ‘You were… It was magnificent. And very well received. There were too many people milling around you afterwards to tell you at the time.’

Sebastian regarded her for a moment. She was nervous – her gaze everywhere but on him. Which was just as well as he tried to distract himself from thoughts of how soft her blouse would feel beneath his fingers.

‘Thanks. You were pretty good yourself.’

Now, that got her attention. Her gaze met his and held. ‘You were there?’

Sebastian heard the note of doubt in her voice and nodded. ‘Of course. You were great.’

‘I wasn’t fishing for compliments, Sebastian.’

‘I know. But you were. Great.’

She waved her hand dismissively indicating she was done with the topic as she glanced out over the river but not before Sebastian had caught her brief look of relief. He hated that she’d even doubt herself but clearly she wanted to move on.

‘Which sessions are you down to see tomorrow?’ he asked, changing the subject.

They chatted about the merits of the different sessions on offer the next day for quite a while as the late afternoon sky passed into the muted hues of twilight. They kept things strictly business – conference-related topics only and even indulged in a second beer from her bar fridge.

‘What time’s the dinner tonight?’ Sebastian asked, dragging his eyes off the city lights starting to dance on the water to consult his smart watch, surprised to find it was nudging six-thirty.

‘Seven-thirty,’ she said as she took a swig from her beer.

Sebastian watched as Callie raised the long-necked bottle to her mouth and pressed it against her lips suppressing the groan rumbling in his throat. They might just be two work colleagues talking shop but watching her drink was torture.

He didn’t think she was being deliberately provocative but there was something exceedingly sexual about it and the catch in his groin every time she sipped had started a fever pounding through his blood. She was staring out over the river in quiet contemplation and he was afraid that if conversation didn’t continue between them soon, he might just haul her into his lap and kiss her until they both couldn’t breathe.

‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked.

‘Your father.’

Sebastian paused, the bottle halfway to his mouth. ‘My father?’

‘Your paper… it felt deeply personal. I know what it’s like to grow up in a family ruled by mental illness and I was listening to you talk and…’

And what? Sebastian waited for her to continue. What was she trying to say?