Page 23 of Prognosis Temporary

CHAPTER FIVE

The plane hit an airpocket and Callie grabbed convulsively for her armrests. Unfortunately, Sebastian’s arm lay along their shared one and she felt the delicious rub of masculine hair against the pulse point at her wrist before she snatched it away.

‘Nervous flyer?’

Sebastian’s low murmur at her ear almost caused her to jump again. ‘I prefer to be on the ground,’ she said, her jaw tense, her pulse bounding madly. If only she could be sure it was from the turbulence and not the illicit brief contact she’d avoided for the last two months.

‘Relax,’ he urged, stretching out his legs. ‘You know more people by far die in car crashes than plane crashes.’

She rolled her head to the side and regarded his profile. He’d shut his eyes and she looked her fill. Strong jaw cleanly shaven, straight nose, fringe flopping across his forehead. Long blonde-brown eyelashes casting shadows on a prominent cheekbone. And a mouth that still haunted her dreams.

‘I like my chances of surviving a car accident more than I do should this plane suddenly go hurtling to the ground.’

Sebastian chuckled and opened his eyes, rolling his head towards her at the same time and she averted her gaze. Even after a couple of months the thing between them was still there. Sure, they’d both done a passable job of ignoring it but in unguarded moments they both knew it hadn’t gone away. That it was always there, simmering beneath the surface. Just waiting for a moment to erupt. Biding its time.

‘Excuse me, sir, would you like something to drink?’

Callie shifted her attention to the blonde, pixie-faced, well-endowed air hostess batting her eyelashes at Sebastian. He smiled at the very attractive woman offering him a beverage and, if the message in her eyes was correct, a hell of a lot more than that. ‘I’d love a coffee, thank you.’

‘Certainly, sir.’ She poured some percolated coffee into a cup. ‘Are you going to Melbourne for business or pleasure?’

‘Business, I’m afraid. We’re attending a weekend seminar.’

The air hostess, whose name badge proclaimed her to be Meghan, pouted prettily, not even faltering at Sebastian’s we. ‘Oh, what a shame,’ she murmured, passing him his coffee, her gaze firmly trained on him.

Callie rolled her eyes. ‘I’d like one too, thank you,’ she interrupted, a little more tartly than she’d expected.

‘Certainly, madam.’ Megan nodded, reluctantly dragging her flirty gaze from Sebastian to grace Callie with a cool, professional one.

Callie shook her head in disgust as Meghan moved on. ‘Does every woman on earth feel the need to flirt with you?’ she grouched.

He smiled at her annoyed face which was super irritating. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Callie snorted. ‘I thought she was about to offer you the chance to join the mile-high club.’

Chuckling he cocked an eyebrow. ‘How do you now I’m not already a member?’

An image of her and Sebastian going for it in the squashed confines of an aeroplane loo imprinted itself on her brain which was ludicrous! With his height and width and her less than elf-like figure they’d probably maim each other.

Still, the idea fascinated her. ‘Are you?’

A small smile touched his lips. ‘I don’t kiss and tell.’

She watched as he took a calm sip of his coffee and her heartbeat skittered madly at the thought that actually maybe he was. ‘Anyway, as I was saying,’ she continued, desperate to dispel the idea, ‘the woman at the check-in counter practically had her tongue hanging out.’

‘Hey.’ He shrugged. ‘We got upgraded, right?’

Callie blinked. ‘Oh, my God. You always get upgraded, don’t you?’

‘It’s the red hair.’

Yeah...she didn’t think it was just the red hair. But for whatever reason, Callie was miffed. She spent her flying hours shoehorned into an economy-class seat, her legs up around her ears as the person in front invariably reclined their seat, and usually ensconced next to an inconsolable baby or a rotund gent with major sleep apnoea. While Sebastian used his charisma and his glorious hair to swan around in business class!

And what a luxurious experience it was — large comfortable seats of soft leather and enough room for her to completely unfold her long legs and stretch out. Discreet but attentive - perhaps too attentive - service.

And not a crying baby in sight.

‘Well?’ Sebastian asked after a while, draining the dregs of his coffee. ‘Are you nervous about your paper?’

---