For all Intents and Purposes (MidKnight Blue Book 6)

by Sherryl Hancock

  “He’s sick,” Christian said simply, but it was obvious he felt guilty about giving his cousin his cold.

  Randy grinned. “Serves him right. He doesn’t sleep enough, eat right, or take care of himself. This is just his body’s way of telling him to slow down, Christian. Don’t feel bad.”

  “Yeah, but you said he rarely gets sick.”

  “That’s right, and when he does, he’s forced to take it easy for a while. It’s sometimes a good thing, being sick. I’ll go and check on him.” She raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going out tonight?” He went out most Friday nights, and half the time on Saturdays too.

  Christian looked up at her for a long moment, then a slow grin spread across his face. “Maybe…”

  “Go on,” Randy said, smiling. “Joe’s here, and I don’t care how sick he is—he’ll protect us. You’ve been working your ass off all week on that computer program for the office, you need some rec time.” Randy had come home a couple of times that week to find him working at her computer, writing the program for Midnight’s new inventory system. He’d taken it upon himself to upgrade her computer, making it faster and giving it a higher memory capacity, and he’d paid for it too. She also knew he worked on it late into the night sometimes, hearing him tapping away in the room next door to hers and Joe’s. She was still astounded at his abilities on the computer, so used to Joe’s absolute aversion to anything “high-tech.”

  “You win—I’ll go,” he said, getting to his feet.

  An hour later he knocked lightly on Joe and Randy’s door.

  “Come in,” Randy said.

  Christian opened the door and saw that Joe’s head was resting in her lap, her hand stroking his hair. Joe was fast asleep. “How’s he doin’?” he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Joe.

  Randy glanced down at her husband, a contemplative look crossing her face. “Well, considering he didn’t even stir when you knocked, I’d say he’s pretty sick.”

  “Is that odd? Does he usually wake up that easily?”

  Randy grinned. “Yeah, he’s like a motion sensor. I can never get out of bed without waking him up.” She saw the hesitation on Christian’s face. “Go on, Christian, we’ll be fine. If you’ll recall I am a fully fledged peace officer too, and since my husband’s one of the best rangemasters in the country, I’m a pretty damn good shot as well.”

  Christian grinned, having forgotten that she was a cop too, even if she wasn’t working as one at that point. “I’m goin’, I’m goin’. Jesus,” he said, smiling. “You’d think you were tryin’ to get rid of me or somethin’.”

  “That’s it, I’m trying to get rid of you. Now go, before all the hot women are taken.”

  “There’s always more,” Christian said irreverently. Randy laughed and settled back against the pillows, looking down at her husband again and gently touching his face. Christian closed the door quietly and headed for the front door.

  He met Susan coming in from her date with Warren. She looked the same as she usually did. Her hair was back in a loose bun and she wore a beige dress that did absolutely nothing for her. It was as if she wanted to remain nondescript; she didn’t even have makeup on. Christian didn’t understand how a woman could not want to be noticed, but that seemed to be Susan’s wish. In contrast, Christian was dressed in perfect-fitting black chinos, black ankle boots, and a sapphire blue shirt that set his light blue eyes off magnificently. He said nothing to her as they met in the doorway, merely inclining his head derisively. Then he walked past her, leaving in his wake the scent of Havana cologne. It was a spicy, sexy scent that fit him perfectly, as if it had been created with him in mind.

  Susan stared after him for a long time, watching him get into the black Jaguar and drive away. She was sure her heart had stopped when she’d seen him; he looked so incredible, his dark good looks enhanced even more by the perfect cut to his pants, which emphasized his trim waist and long legs. The blue shirt outlined his well-muscled chest, which she remembered all too well from the day he’d accosted her. She’d remembered that day far too many times in the last week, and seeing him looking fantastically handsome didn’t help to place that memory farther back in her mind.

  Christian drove down the hill, heading for the bars in Pacific Beach. He’d gone to some of the ones in La Jolla but found that he always ended up with women like Geneva who thought they owned everything and everyone. Tonight he was looking for something a little bit different. He listened to the radio on the way. Chumbawamba’s “Tubthumping” came on, and he turned it up. The song was strange but he liked it. The chant about getting knocked down and getting right back up again fit him pretty well.

  Once at the club, he headed straight to the bar. He proceeded to knock back three shots of tequila, then ordered a beer, tossing the blond bartender a five-dollar tip. He turned to look around him. There were the usual bar flies and a lot of college kids. He emptied his beer, and when he turned back to order another he found that the bartender was watching him. He took another good look at her; she did have a nice body, and a nice face to match.

  “Beer or shot?” she asked, embarrassed at having been caught watching him.

  Christian grinned, staring directly into her eyes. “Both,” he said with a smile, his light blue eyes sparkling. Tara Camden found herself catching her breath. He had to be the best-looking man she’d ever seen, and she was sure every woman in the place was ready to fight it out for him. She was pleasantly surprised when he sat down at the bar. After a few minutes she turned to him and saw that he was watching her; it made her feel self-conscious.

  During the course of the evening she got used to him sitting there, and eventually felt comfortable enough to treat him like any other customer. At one point she leaned over the bar toward him.

  “So what part of England are you from?” she asked, having recognized his accent.

  “London,” Christian replied simply, but he stared straight into her eyes, making the answer seem like more.

  “Are you visiting or staying?”

  “Not quite sure yet, actually.”

  “Okay…” she said, smiling and shaking her head.

  She went back to taking drink orders. Every now and then she’d turn around and see that he was still there. It wasn’t like she didn’t have guys hanging out at the bar a lot, but if they were interested they usually tried to hit on her. This guy didn’t; he just sat there drinking his beer, alternating between watching her and other customers in the mirror behind the bar.

  Once, Tara saw a woman walk up to him. She’d seen her before; she was in the bar a lot, and she seemed to score with a lot of men. Tara found herself making a point of sticking close to the Englishman just to hear what was said.

  Christian turned as he saw the redhead walk up. He’d seen her watching him in the mirror, and had known she’d approach him eventually. His expression was cool, almost bored. The woman was good-looking from afar, but when she drew closer, Christian could see that she was probably in her early forties and trying desperately to hide it. Probably why she hangs in bars, he figured. Bad light helps.

  “So,” the woman said, her dark eyes looking up at him seductively. “Are you as good as you look?”

  Christian looked back at her for a long moment, a slow grin starting on his face but not reaching his eyes. “Better,” he said cockily.

  With that he turned his back on her, his eyes going directly to Tara, who was standing right in front of him. Tara was trying desperately to stifle the laugh, but ended up ducking her head so the woman wouldn’t see. The look on the redhead’s face when the Englishman had turned his back had been hilarious. Tara had never seen someone annihilate her like that before. She guessed most men liked the woman’s direct approach. When Tara looked up she saw that his light blue eyes were still on her, and he was grinning.

  “Nice work,” she said.

  He smiled. “Ya think?”

  Tara nodded, laughing again as she went to take another drink order.

>   At the end of the night, Tara closed up as usual. When she walked out the back door of the bar, she was surprised to see the Englishman leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

  “Hi,” she said, too surprised to think of anything clever to say.

  Christian looked back at her, grinning.

  “You waiting for someone?” she asked, not sure why he would be back there. She wondered belatedly if she was in some kind of danger, but she didn’t think so.

  “You,” he said casually.

  “Oh yeah?” She smiled in spite of herself.

  “Yeah,” he said, dropping his cigarette and pushing off from the wall.

  He walked over to her, reminding her vaguely of a black panther. Without a word he touched her face, turning it up toward his, and leaned down to kiss her. It had been a long time since she’d been kissed like that. Tara found herself putting her arms around his neck, wanting the moment to last. When their lips parted, he looked down at her, his eyes burning into hers.

  “Where do you live?” he asked, his tone indicating that he wasn’t expecting her to say no.

  “Couple miles down the street.” She motioned in the direction of the beach.

  “I’ll follow you,” he said evenly.

  Tara nodded mutely. As she walked over to her car she saw him waving down a passing cab. Driving down the street, Tara started thinking again. She realized she knew nothing about this guy; he could be a nut, or worse. Here she was leading him to her apartment. “What am I,” she said out loud. “Crazy?” She made the decision then that once she got to her apartment building she’d tell him she’d changed her mind and make him leave. She made sure her cell phone was handy in case she needed to call 911. When she got to the building, she got out of her car, and a moment later the man walked up.

  Christian could see the hesitation in her eyes, and he knew what she was about to say. He leaned against the side of her car and watched as she gathered her courage. He grinned when she started to speak, his light blue eyes reflecting humor.

  “Look,” she began. “I just… I’m really tired, and I think that…”

  “That I’m some kind of nut out to kill you or somethin’,” he finished for her, his voice low.

  “No,” she said, but he started to laugh.

  “Yes,” he countered, nodding. “Well, I’m not, but you don’t have to trust that. You’re probably smart for being cautious.”

  “Yeah, and I’m probably blowing a big opportunity,” she said, looking thoughtful and sounding wistful.

  “You are,” he said confidently, but his eyes still reflected humor. He moved toward her then, touching her face gently again and looking down into her eyes. This time she kissed him, not able to resist his closeness.

  An hour and a half later they lay in her bed. She lay over him, her body still entwined with his, and his hands were in her hair. After catching her breath, she moved to his side, lying on her back. He turned over to face her, propping himself up on his elbow and looking around the room.

  “So this is your place, huh?” he said, his voice still a little husky.

  She smiled. “Be it ever so humble.”

  “Hey, it’s a place to live, and it’s nice.”

  “So where do you live? And oh yeah, what is your name?” She sounded abashed at having to ask that piece of information after they’d had sex.

  “I live at my cousin’s right now,” Christian said lightly. “And my name’s Blue.”

  “Blue?” she replied, looking interested. “Because of your eyes?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what’s your real name?” She glanced up at him, still astounded that she was in bed with this incredibly gorgeous man.

  Christian looked at her for a long moment, obviously debating telling her. “Christian.”

  “Hmm…” she said, as if trying to reconcile the name with him. She shrugged. “Well, I was just going to call you London if I didn’t get your name.”

  He smiled. “Uh-huh.”

  “So, I’ll bet you do this a lot, huh?”

  “I guess.”

  “Well, I don’t. One-night stands aren’t exactly my forte. Being a bartender and all, I tend to become pretty jaded on sleeping with anyone from the bar.”

  “So, how did I rate?” Christian surprised himself by asking.

  “You were too goddamned gorgeous to ignore,” she said forthrightly.

  “I see.”

  “So how did I rate?” she asked, knowing he’d had his choice at the bar.

  “You were too gorgeous to ignore,” he replied with a sly smile.

  Tara laughed. “And if I believe that, I’m sure you’ll tell me another one.”

  Instead of replying, he leaned down to kiss her. When their lips parted he looked down at her. “Actually, I’m tired of women like that redhead thinking all they have to do is give me a come-on and I’ll drop dead at their feet. You were cool, I liked that.”

  “That and I gave you enough shots and beer to make an elephant pass out.”

  Christian laughed. “You think I’m drunk?”

  “Are you?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Jesus…” She shook her head. “I take it you drink a lot, huh?”

  “Enough.”

  “Well, after this, maybe you can come into the bar and see me every now and then. No strings attached,” she said, holding her hands up on the last. “The last thing I need right now is another relationship.”

  Christian looked back at her, pleasantly surprised. “That makes two of us. I don’t do relationships myself.”

  “Well, sometimes I wish I hadn’t done my last one.” Her voice had taken on a different edge, which made Christian curious in spite of himself.

  “What happened?” he asked softly as he dropped his head to be on the same level as hers.

  She shrugged. “He was my husband and he hit me. It was manageable until we had our daughter, and then he made the mistake of hitting her, once. That was it—I kicked him out.”

  “How old’s your daughter?”

  “Three.”

  He grinned. “She look like you?”

  “Yes, blond hair, blue eyes.”

  “Bet she’s cute as hell, too,” he said softly.

  “Oh, yeah, and ornery as hell.” They laughed then. “So, what do you do, besides this?” She said the last indicating their bodies still close together.

  Christian grinned. “Right now I’m workin’ with the police department.”

  She looked surprised. “Are you a cop?”

  He shook his head. “Not hardly.”

  “Then you’re a criminal?”

  “Sometimes. But right now, I’m working on their computers.”

  “You don’t look like a computer geek,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him comically.

  “That’s because I’m not a geek. I’m a hacker—get the label right, will ya?” he said, laughing.

  “Oh, gee, sorry.”

  They lay together for a while, not talking. It was a comfortable silence. Christian had been telling the truth when he’d said he thought she was cool. He liked her easygoing manner, and he also liked that she didn’t seem to think that because they’d slept together it meant they automatically had a relationship. He hated that part of the night, when he had to extract himself from whatever woman he was sleeping with. He usually did it quickly, getting out as soon as possible, but since she seemed cool about everything, he didn’t mind hanging around.

  “So, I guess I can take it that you won’t be around for breakfast?” she said lightly.

  Christian shook his head. “Gotta get back.” Then, feeling like she deserved more of an explanation, he said, “My cousin’s sick, and I want to be around in case his wife or kids need something.”

  “Sick?” she said, not sure if he meant terminally or what.

  “Yeah. Just a cold, but his wife looked pretty worried when I left, so I wanna be around, ya know?”

  “You expectin
g trouble?”

  “Well, my cousin’s the cop in the family. And yeah, I always expect trouble—that way I’m never surprised.”

  “Your cousin’s a cop?” She grinned slyly. “Does he look anything like you?”

  “No,” he said, pretending to be jealous. “Actually, he does have the same color eyes, and about the same build, but that’s it. He’s got light hair and all that.”

  “Hmmm,” she said, still grinning. She reached out, touching his cheek and running her finger along his jawline. She kissed him, moving her hand to his hair, which now reached an inch past his collar. After a few minutes, he pulled her over him, but she shook her head. “I want you over me,” she said, her voice a husky whisper.

  “Why?” he whispered back.

  “Because,” she said, more softly, “I haven’t let anyone over me since my husband. It’s this whole domination psycho crap, but I want you, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, making a point of taking it slow and making sure she orgasmed long before him. Afterward he fell asleep, his body half-covering hers.

  He woke hearing her whisper in his ear. “Hey, London…”

  “What?” he said, grinning at the name.

  “Not that I mind you being here, ’cause I really don’t, but you said you wanted to get home early…”

  Christian looked over at the clock on her nightstand; it was four thirty. “Yeah, I should get going…” he said tiredly.

  “Do you want some coffee or something to help wake up?”

  “Nah, no point in you havin’ to wake up too.” He reluctantly got up and got dressed, Tara watching him as he did. He walked over to her, kneeling down by the bed. She lay on her side, facing him, her eyes tired, but she was alert as he moved close. He kissed her gently. “Don’t be surprised if you see me in your bar again.”

  “I’ll buy ya a beer myself,” she said, smiling.

  He returned the smile. “You got it.”

  “This was… great,” she said hesitantly, not wanting to sound too dumb.

  “Yes, it was,” he said sincerely. “I’ll see ya, okay?”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  ****

  Randy had had a long night. Joe had slept deeply at first, which actually worried her, because he rarely slept that way. When he woke at 2:00 a.m., he was shivering. Randy immediately covered him better, pulling him closer to her and stroking his hair. Touching his forehead, she realized his fever was high. She got out of bed, moving carefully, and went into the bathroom to get some Tylenol. She filled a glass with water and went back into the bedroom. She was loath to wake him, but she knew she needed to get his fever down too.