Page 29 of One Night with the Doctor

She shook her head and shut her eyes briefly, opening them again when the lift dinged. Sebastian slid his hand onto hers as the doors slid open and Callie took a step inside. His thumb brushed the pulse fluttering at her wrist and he actually felt her shiver.

‘Don’t,’ she whispered, pulling against his light hold. ‘Please don’t.’

Sebastian released her instantly even though he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms. She fled into the lift, stabbing at a button on the console. She looked hot and sexy in her purple dress but utterly forlorn as she stood there raising her gaze to meet his, locking on until the lift doors shut and she disappeared, their eye contact broken.

Letting out a ragged breath, he waited for his breathing to settle and the drum beat in his blood to ebb. He and Callie were walking a dangerous line, their sexual attraction somehow multiplying despite them both pretending it didn’t exist.

How long would it be until one of them cracked. And who would be first?

6

Callie heard the amplified calls of a coxswain setting the pace a minute or so before the slap of oar against water could be heard and a rowboat came into view. The sun was barely up and it was chilly in the early morning along the banks of the Yarra, but the river was alive and, even at this hour, the city pulsed around her as she walked along the boardwalk.

She’d given up on sleep about an hour ago. Her king-size bed was the ultimate in cloud-like comfort but its sheer size conjured up pictures of rolling in the sheets with a lover.

One particular lover…

It was an image that had not been conducive to sleep after she’d fled to her room last night so hyped up from the overt sexual chemistry pumping between her and Sebastian she’d had to leave. They’d made the decision to be work acquaintances only and it would be stupid to go back and undo two months of collegiality.

So she’d gotten the hell out of Dodge.

But separation hadn’t stopped her blood thrumming loudly through her veins all night. It hadn’t stopped her tossing and turning either as she tried to ignore its insistent call. Eventually she’d just had to get out of the damn bed.

‘Well hey there.’

Callie startled as Sebastian’s voice came from behind. She turned to check she wasn’t imagining that oh-so-familiar tone. Nope. There he was in full Technicolor, his jogging gear exposing a lot of his superb, sweaty body. His broad shoulders and bare biceps. And those muscular thighs – the quads lengthening and contracting with each footfall.

Last night in his tuxedo she’d thought she’d never seen him look more magnificent. The dark suit had emphasised the breadth of his shoulders and the lush brilliance of his hair and she’d wanted to reach out and brush non-existent lint off his shoulder just so she could feel all that coiled strength she knew lay beneath the jacket.

Just to experience the pleasure of touching him.

He’d looked tall and commanding, a standout in a room full of black tuxedos. Confident and assured, with a touch of arrogance.

Just as he had been on the bridge.

But, jogging Sebastian was pretty damn fine, too.

She returned her attention to where she was going afraid she might just start to drool. ‘Hey, yourself.’

He drew level with her and slowed to a walk, pulling the cool morning air into his lungs.

‘I didn’t know you jogged.’

He grimaced. ‘I don’t. Not really. I love jogging along here though, so I throw in some gear in case the urge hits.’

They walked on for a few moments, their gazes tracking the glide of the boats rowing through the water, the soft swoosh of the paddles forming the soundtrack as Sebastian caught his breath.

‘How’s the headache this morning?’

‘Fine.’ The lie slid easily off her tongue but she didn’t believe for a minute that he believed there’d actually been a headache.

‘I thought you’d still be tucked up in bed, sleeping it off.’

Callie snorted. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ She regretted the admission instantly. That was on a need-to-know basis only. A smart man like Sebastian could probably easily work out why and that he was the cause of her insomnia.

‘Neither could I.’

She faltered a little at his quiet admission then determinedly picked up the pace. It was that or give in to the crazy urge to stop and bury her face against his throat – sweaty or not.