Page 5 of Prognosis Temporary

She could hardly call him what’s-his-name to his face!

He quirked a brow apparently amused by her verbal groping. ‘Sebastian,’ he supplied. ‘Or Seb. I answer to both.’

Callie nodded, relieved. For a moment. And then realisation slowly dawned. Sebastian? Sebastian Walker? The Sebastian Walker. One of the most eminent and renowned young psychologists in the country? Who’d written the modern-day bible on PTSD?

‘Se...Sebastian...’ Callie stumbled over the name for a second still shocked at his identity. ‘Was the negotiator today.’

She glanced at him and the intenseness of his gaze stole her breath. It was still there, that thing from this morning. Big and large and growing between them as she took in his casual dress shirt, the rolled-up sleeves, the top two buttons undone.

‘At the bridge,’ she added completely unnecessarily.

‘Hunh.’ Geri glanced from one to the other. ‘What a coincidence’ Another speculative look before she continued on. ‘Well, as you know, as of next week, he’s the new temporary psychologist at Jambalyn.’

Callie nodded automatically hoping she was appearing a lot more normal than she felt. Bloody hell. This was Sebastian Walker? Donna’s maternity leave replacement? She hadn’t quite been able to believe it when Geri had told them that he’d applied for the one-year relief position in their lowly community mental health centre.

It was even harder to believe that he was the man from the bridge.

And, oh Christ, she’d flashed him!

Callie sat. So did he. ‘I’m sorry...I thought.’ She felt like a complete airhead. She should have paid more attention to the introductions at the bridge. ‘This morning. I thought you were a cop?’

Hell, 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, by and large, a great big boys’ club. And, as with a lot of boys, bragging often got the better of them. A close psychologist 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 slowly frying in the heat of his stare, it came a poor second.

He shook his head. ‘Afraid not.’ Then he grinned. Clearly he was enjoying this element of surprise. ‘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 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 into the conversation. ‘We heard you flashed every cop in Brisbane this morning. I think the news helicopters even got a gawk. You’re 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 this morning and to keep his eyes up, 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.

It made Callie think about the secluded alley just outside. It wasn’t the Hilton but it was dark and private and, most importantly, close and to hell with inhibitions and social mores.

She dragged her gaze from Sebastian and gave a careless shrug as she got her head back in the conversation. ‘You learn to get bolshie in this job.’

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The conversation movedon and Sebastian let it flow around him. His new colleagues were articulate, expressive and dedicated. Chris, Magella, Cynthia and Callie were the nurses. Geri and Donald were social workers. Nell 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 very clearly liked each other - respected each other - and he looked forward to working with them in the challenging setting of community-based mental health.

Even if it was only temporary.

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