Megan was at the door to see them off as they disembarked. She smiled at Sebastian. ‘If you change your mind, sir, I have the next few days off,’ she murmured, and out of the corner of her eye Callie saw her discreetly pass him her card.
She also saw him pocket it.
It put an itch up her spine and a frown on her face and she strode ahead of him, wanting suddenly to be far away.
Sebastian followed her at a more sedate pace, watching the way her auburn hair swung with the purposeful strut of every long-legged stride and how her black tailored trousers clung to the swell of her bottom.
He put his hand in his pocket and retrieved the card Megan had given him. He hadn’t been on a date since before leaving for the Gulf. Sebastian tried to conjure up a mental image of the cute little blonde he’d left not even five minutes ago and failed miserably. All he could see was Callie.
He tossed the card in a nearby bin.
Thirty minutes later, after a very quiet taxi ride, they were standing in the classically elegant foyer of the Langham Hotel. Dominated by a grand, sweeping marble staircase and cascading fountains crowned by magnificent chandeliers, it gave off an aura of hushed, timeless luxury.
‘We’d like to check in, please,’ Sebastian requested the elegant older woman behind the desk. ‘We’re attending the C.M.H. conference.’
The woman looked up over half-moon glasses with a fixed pleasant smile that she’d no doubt honed over the years to greet customers. She looked close to retirement age, with steel-grey hair tucked into a sleek chignon. It was obvious she’d in the business for many years—she had brisk and efficient written into every well-concealed line in her face—and would scare the living daylights out of any new staff that put a foot wrong.
She certainly didn’t look like she suffered fools gladly.
‘Oh,’ she said, and stared for a moment or two longer than was decent. And Callie could have sworn she actually saw a swathe of red bloom in her cheeks.
Oh, for crying out loud! Was there no end to Sebastian’s effect on the opposite sex?
‘Most certainly, sir.’ She practically preened. ‘Has sir booked a double or maybe a suite?’
‘No!’
The woman glanced at Callie fully for the first time, a little startled by her vehemence, loud in the muted marble surroundings where the only noise was the trickle of a nearby fountain. Callie was beyond caring. It was bad enough that Rodney had booked them on the same flight. Same rooms were out of the question.
‘There are two rooms booked,’ she said, a little more controlled this time. She had double—triple—checked.
The woman eyed her for a moment longer, glanced at Sebastian and then back at her. Callie saw a fleeting But why? in the woman’s gaze before she nodded graciously over her glasses. ‘Certainly, madam. If you would both please fill out a registration form,’ she said, pushing one each over to them.
She tapped on her computer keyboard as Callie and Sebastian scribbled their details on the proffered forms. ‘Same floor be okay?’ the woman asked.
Callie opened her mouth to say no. That she wanted to be as geographically distant from him as possible. But both of them were looking at her with curiosity, obviously waiting for her to object again, and she decided she wouldn’t give either the satisfaction.
‘That’s fine,’ she said briskly, handing her completed form back.
The woman spent a few more minutes completing the formalities and handed them their keys. ‘Eleventh floor.’ She tapped the numbers. ‘They’re opposite each other.’
Sebastian smiled at her. ‘Thank you…’ he paused, reading the woman’s name badge ‘. Marion.’
Marion pinked up again and Callie gave a mental eye roll as she turned away, but not before she heard the older woman’s breathy ‘My pleasure, sir’.
Sebastian caught up with her as she entered the lift. She looked cross, her amber eyes flashing at him, daring him to say something. He held her glittering gaze as the door shut behind him. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Fine.’ Except she wasn’t. She was…frustrated as hell. She’d spent two months on a relatively even keel after a wonky start with Sebastian and now they’d left home turf her body had taken leave of its senses!
Outside Jambalyn it was like he’d lost his ‘off-limits’ force field and she was being dragged into his gravitational pull again. And watching every other woman in his vicinity being sucked in too—even shrewd grandmothers who should know better—was not helping.
Sebastian gripped the handle of his pull-along suitcase. ‘You don’t look fine.’
The lift dinged and Callie sagged against the wall in relief.
‘Saved by the bell,’ Sebastian murmured as Callie strode out ahead of him.
Callie’s heels sank into the luxurious carpet, muffling any sound as she quickly located their rooms. She turned her back on his door immediately, preferring not to be reminded that for the next three nights only the width of a hallway and two doors would be separating them.
With a bit of luck she’d be in her room before he made it this far down.
But, alas, it was not to be as Callie’s key-card chose that moment to be recalcitrant. She was cursing it under her breath as she jammed it repeatedly in and out, watching desperately for the little green light, when Sebastian drew level with her.
He stepped in close and put a stilling hand over hers. ‘Allow me.’
Callie wanted to object but the touch of his hand, his clean male smell and the sheer utter breadth of him wrapped her in sticky tentacles. She bit her lip to stop herself from whimpering. ‘Bloody things,’ she said with an unsteady voice. ‘I always get the dodgy ones.’
Sebastian chuckled. ‘It’s easy when you know how,’ he murmured. ‘You just have to be patient. Gentle. Slide it in slowly…’
Callie watched mesmerised as he held her hand fast on the card, entwining their fingers and inching the thin piece of plastic into the slot. Her stomach clenched.
‘Wait for a second,’ Sebastian continued, his gaze gliding from the lock and their joined hands to her face. He heard the slight click, knew the light would be green, but her attention had returned to his face and he couldn’t look away. ‘And then slide it slowly out.’
He pushed down on the handle and the door gave a little but neither of them noticed. Her gaze was fixed on his mouth and, heaven, help him, he dropped his to hers as well.
He’d dreamt about that mouth.
Callie felt as if she was sinking in quicksand and couldn’t break away. This was crazy. She had to do something. Move or say something. Let him know where they stood.
She swallowed. ‘I’m not going to sleep with you while we’re here, Sebastian.’
Sebastian’s mouth quirked at her bravado. ‘Until now I was under no illusion that you would.’
‘Just because I’m across the hall from you does not mean I’m…available.’
Sebastian flicked his gaze to her eyes simmering with naked desire before returning to her lips. He wanted to taste her so badly he had to grip the handle harder.
‘You’re doing it again, Callie,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t tell me one thing with your mouth.’ Sebastian lifted a hand and rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip ‘…and another thing with your eyes.’
Callie clamped down on the whimper that rose in her throat and dropped her eyelids, shuttering the heat she couldn’t disguise. She felt as if her eyeballs were burning two holes in her head.
With a monumental effort Sebastian dropped his hand and dragged his gaze from her mouth. ‘I’m not going to play games with you, Callie. We’re both adults here.’ He pushed her door open for her. ‘I’m just over there…’ he inclined his head ‘.if you change your mind.’
Callie was damned if she was going to sit around in her hotel room all afternoon until the black-tie fundraiser this evening, replaying Sebastian’s scintillating challenge over and over.
She was in Melbourne, for goodness’ sake. She loved Melbourne! The La
ngham was situated along the renowned Southbank Promenade overlooking the tranquil Yarra River. Right outside the hotel’s doors waited a fabulous world of shopping, boutiques and alfresco cafés.
She would walk and shop and drink coffee and just enjoy being anonymous in a big vibrant city.
Two hours later Sebastian was prowling restlessly around South Bank, trying to ignore the I’m not going to sleep with you echo in his head. He’d met an old colleague for a drink, which had helped, but he knew he didn’t want to return to his room, knowing she was so close.
And yet so far.
So hard was he concentrating on not thinking about her that he rounded a corner and careened straight into a woman who had stopped in front of a shop window. ‘Whoa! Sorry,’ he apologised, grabbing hold of her body, trying at the last moment to lessen the impact and save her from falling.
Callie staggered, grateful for the man’s hold on her as his body collided with hers. It took a moment for the world to come back to an even keel and for her to realise the identity of who exactly had almost knocked her flying. ‘Sebastian?’
‘Callie?’
Their simultaneous recognition was comical as they stared at each other dumbstruck for a moment.
‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised again. ‘I wasn’t paying attention.’
Callie nodded slowly, her pulse tripping along, her skin tingling where he’d touched her. Her arm, her waist. It hadn’t meant to be sexual, she knew that, but its fiery wake was igniting a heat down low in her belly. If only she hadn’t spent the last two months avoiding his touch, she might not be acting like a Victorian virgin now.
‘What are you doing, standing in the middle of the footpath anyway?’ he joked as he fought to bring his reactions under control. He could still feel the imprint of her waist against his palm and the press of her side down the length of him.
Callie dragged her thoughts back from where they’d been mired and turned her attention to the shop window and the most gorgeous dress she’d ever laid eyes on. It was so beautiful it had stopped her in her tracks.
‘The dress,’ she murmured.
Sebastian followed her gaze. He didn’t pretend to know much about women’s dresses. Except how important they were to the female of the species. And how easy they were to get off. But even he gave a long low whistle at the creation in the window.
Callie smiled. ‘Exactly.’
‘So, are you going to get it?’
Callie looked at it longingly but the facade of the trendy little shop reeked of money and she knew she’d never be able to afford the price tag. She sighed. ‘No.’
Sebastian heard the unmistakable note of yearning in her voice. She wanted it. And he wanted to see her in it—and peel her out of it—too.
‘You need a dress for tonight, right?’
Callie nodded. ‘Yes, but I brought one with me.’
‘But you want this one,’ he said patiently, watching as Callie’s teeth sank into her bottom lip, her gaze trained on the window. ‘Come on.’ He grabbed her elbow and tugged her towards the door. ‘Let’s go and try it on.’
Callie resisted for a moment then let him drag her into the shop.
The elegant shop assistant, who could have been Marion’s twin sister, gave Callie a polite, perfunctory smile and then leapt to attention as Sebastian swept in behind her, commanding that the woman find a size twelve in the window dress as Callie would like to try it on.
Callie watched bemused as the boutique owner fawned over Sebastian. He was ushered to a plush leather lounge outside the spacious fitting room as the owner hung the dress in a cubicle for Callie. She made him a coffee and furnished him with a newspaper.
Ensconced in a cubicle she could have thrown a party in, it all felt surreal. Like she was in a scene from a movie.
Callie stared at the dream of a dress, touching it with shaking hands. Wanting it but afraid to ruin its crisp perfection by putting her body inside it.
Still, it called to her and she couldn’t resist.
The second it floated down over her head, Callie had to have it. The deep purple fabric was satiny cool against her skin, close fitting but moving and stretching with every flex and twist of her body. The strapless bodice was ruched over her breasts but plain at the back.
It emphasised the thrust of her chest in a way she’d thought only screen sirens from the 1940s had been able to perfect. The fabric clung to her hips and her long legs and the contours of her butt and draped to the floor, the ruffled hem flaring slightly and pooling in a slight train behind her.
It was simply the most stunning thing she’d ever worn.
‘You’re not going to make me come in there, are you?’
Sebastian’s voice brought her out of her daze as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her belly heated at the thought of him seeing her in it. It was a dress a woman wore for a man. Sexy. Slinky. Suggestive.
One shimmy of her hips and it’d pool at her feet in a tempting puddle of purple.
She looked at the tag and sighed. ‘It’s too expensive.’
Sebastian felt anticipation curl inside his gut. ‘Some things are worth it.’
Callie rubbed her hands along the silky fabric.
It’s just a dress. It’s just a dress.
Maybe if she recited it enough she’d actually start to believe it.
‘It’s just a dress,’ she said. Out loud this time.
‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?’
Callie was temped. Very tempted. After all, she was never going to buy it, but admiring herself in the mirror there was a tiny female part of her that yearned for someone else to see her in it too.
Yearned to see a man’s reaction.
She took a breath, opened the door and stepped out.
Sebastian’s heart almost stopped in his chest. Callie looked sensational. The deep purple suited her colouring and the dress hugged and flared in all the right places. She looked like a movie star on a red carpet or a model poised at the end of a catwalk.
He’d seen her in jeans and T-shirts, in tailored trousers and silky blouses?hell, he’d even see her naked? but this Callie was something else again. Yet another facet to the woman who seemed to have many.
Girlie Callie.
And girlie Callie was a sight to behold.
He stood. ‘Wow.’
Callie flushed as his thorough gaze travelled all over her, lingering in all the places he already well and truly knew. Her nipples hardened at his frank gaze and the memory of them and, predictably, in a dress that clung like a satin glove, their arousal didn’t go unnoticed.
His gaze zeroed in on her breasts and her breath stuttered to a halt.
‘It’s four hundred dollars,’ she said into the growing silence.
Sebastian was a hair’s-breadth away from telling her he’d pay for it. But he stopped. Deep in his bones he knew it would be a very bad move. A woman who’d just told him she wouldn’t sleep with him certainly wouldn’t let him pay for an expensive dress.
Sebastian licked parched lips. ‘It’ll be the best four hundred dollars you ever spent.’
Callie watched the flick of his tongue and tried not to think how it would feel on her painfully tight nipples. ‘It’s…frivolous,’ she protested half-heartedly, before she totally lost her mind.
He shrugged. ‘What’s wrong with frivolous?’
Callie held his gaze, immersing herself in the heat and hunger she saw there.
What indeed?
She turned to the shop assistant. ‘I’ll take it.’
Sebastian knew the minute he walked into the function that night that Callie was already there. He couldn’t see her but the hairs on the back of his neck were standing to alert, just as they had that afternoon when she’d emerged from the fitting room.
And then the crowd seemed to part and he caught a flash of purple and there she was, her head thrown back, laughing in that all-out way of hers at something someone in the little crowd around her was saying.
And his heart practically stopped for the second time.
That afternoon in the boutique she had looked amazing. Tonight, with her eyes heavily kohled and her hair loose around her shoulders rather than bunched in a hastily constructed ponytail, she looked sensational.
The dress caressed her every line and angle. It moved interestingly against her body as each word in the animated conversation she appeared to be having, each sip of the champagne she was drinking rippled flesh and muscles.
She tipped back her head again and laughed, as he watched, one hand at her throat absently toyed with a chain of sparkly baubles glistening in the magnificent crystal lights overhead. Chandelier earrings also dazzled in the light and drew his gaze to her neck, her bare shoulders, the expanse of flesh above her cleavage.
Her cleavage.
As at the restaurant that first fateful night, people turned and looked, and Sebastian could see more than casual interest in several appreciative male glances.
A sharp nudge to his ribs bought Sebastian back to his surroundings. Brent Cartwright, an emergency physician at the Royal Melbourne and one of his oldest friends, handed him a beer.
‘She’s a bit of all right.’
Sebastian looked at Brent, who went through women as though the Apocalypse was upon them, and thought, Over my dead body. ‘She’s not your type.’
Brent hooted and clapped him on the back. ‘Oh, and what is my type?’
‘Younger, blonder. More party, less…’
Brent raised an eyebrow. ‘Less?’
Sebastian looked his friend straight in the eye. ‘Substance.’
Brent laughed, not remotely insulted. ‘I don’t know, Seb, old man, that dress has party girl stamped all over it.’
Sebastian frowned at the naked appreciation in Brent’s eyes.
That dress has Mine stamped all over it.
‘Callie is not the party type.’
Brent eyed him speculatively. ‘Callie, huh?’
Rescued by the Dreamy Doc / Navy Officer to Family Man Page 7
