Dark Experiments

by Lana Campbell

  Christian felt his brow crease as he sank into his chair. “What sort of troubles? Her father again?” Many years ago Mia had told him the details of her divorce and the pain her ex’s cheating had caused her girls.

  Mia sighed heavily. “Always, but trust in general. Do you know in all the years she’s lived in New Orleans, to my knowledge, she’s never made one friend? She speaks of clients, work, hobbies and some altruistic, philanthropic activities, but never once has she mentioned getting a cup of coffee or going to a movie with a friend. Let alone a date. Of course she’s very close to me and her sisters, but I think you know what I’m driving at.”

  Christian did and it saddened him greatly. “But if her trust issues stem from what happened to your family all those years ago, why hasn’t she sought help?”

  “Pride, but mostly anger. She’s not ready to give it up. No one can help her until she is. I have to say this too. I worry about her working in an office situation where she will be thrust into the lives of co-workers. She does not play well with others, Christian. As an entrepreneur she always ruled her own world. Please keep that in mind if she should do or say something that could get her into trouble.”

  He could help himself, he started laughing. Mia was right. Tiffany definitely didn’t play well with others. Noah had only briefly spoken to her and had already commented on her unprofessional dress and speech. Christian was used to her ways, her sometimes sharp tongue and wit. Others might take offense which meant he’d probably be doing some fence mending on her behalf in the future. “There’s no need to worry, Mia. It’s as I said last night, her job is secure. She’s going nowhere unless she chooses to.”

  “Thank you and thank you for caring about her. I know you do and have for a long time. Just be patient with her.”

  “That may be a rock and a hard place position. I’ve seen her angry,” he muttered, recalling the incident in the hall. The girl was driving him nuts.

  “It can be, but you’ll see in time she’s worth it.”

  What did she mean by that? Before he could question her, his land line rang with an in-house call. Most likely Katie reminding him of his next appointment. “I have to go. I have patients waiting. It’s been good talking to you. Rest assured Tiffany is fine and seems to be taking well to her new position.”

  “That’s great news. Have a wonderful day, Christian.”

  “You too.” He disconnected then answered his other phone, which had been Katie.

  Mia had given him much food for thought. Christian couldn’t help wonder what she suspected, but he had no time to think about that now. His patient load had been wearing him thin for weeks due to Asa’s absence.

  By the time he had five spare minutes, it was well after lunch and his stomach reminded him loudly he’d missed his mid day meal. As he headed to his office, he pulled his cell from the pocket of his lab coat to check the time. Four thirty? No wonder he was so hungry.

  He diverted his destination and went to Tiffany’s office instead intending to hold her to their dinner date—rather engagement. Or ‘get together’—whatever she wanted to call it.

  Her door was open and she was sitting behind her desk staring intently at a holotop as she spoke commands into the weird looking thing. He’d seen them advertised on T.V., but had never viewed one up close before. At first, the thing seemed like a large version of a cell phone hologram, but as he watched her speak and move pictures with her hands, he realized it was a far more complicated device. One she would expect him to learn to master one day soon. He cringed at the thought.

  “Hey, Darlin’. What are you working on?”

  She gave a little start, then glanced his way and smiled. “You’re server and IP address. I’m working on setting it up using my phone as a hot spot so I can get service. We’ll have wifi on Monday. It won’t be long from there until I have this leg of the journey complete.”

  He blinked at her, having no idea what the hell she’d just said, nor did he care. His work day was done and he wanted to spend the remainder of it with her.

  He crossed the room and rounded her desk, giving the colorful hologram hovering over her computer a cursory glance. “Are you at a stopping point?”

  She quickly spoke a few shut down commands, then closed the lid on the thing and looked up at him. “I suppose so. Why?”

  “I’m ready to call it a day. I was thinking we could go to my place, grill some burgers. Maybe watch a movie afterward.”

  She looked up at him and affected a nonchalant shrug. “Sure. Just let me pack my stuff.”

  He watched while she loaded her computer and some other things into her backpack. Her heart rate and breathing were a little a higher than normal for such a simple task and he had a pretty good idea why. He considered assuring her nothing would ever happen between them she didn’t want to happen, that he would honor this friends thing for now, then thought better of the notion. Verbalizing this attraction between them might spook her. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

  A short time later they arrived in their separate trucks at his city home, a nineteen sixties ranch style he’d purchased and refurbished a few years back, which now looked more like a hunting cabin. He resided here primarily because it was located a mere ten minutes from the V clinic.

  As he ushered her into the living room, he said, “Excuse the mess, Darlin’. I have a housekeeper, but she won’t be back until Monday.” He winced at his coffee table, littered with to-go boxes, dishes and beer bottles.

  She chuckled. “No worries. Your place is all you, Christian. I like it.” She walked over to his fireplace and gazed up at the full turkey mount above the mantel. “Nice bird. Looks like about a ten inch beard.” She reached up and lightly fingered the long, coarse strands protruding from the gobbler’s chest.

  “Eleven and a quarter actually. The spurs were just shy of three inches.”

  She turned and quirked her brows, her expression impressed. “Where in the heck did you shoot it? A nuclear waste facility?”

  He burst out laughing. “No, silly. My place in the bayou where the mothers’ retreat is located.”

  She nodded then glanced about. “So burgers, huh? Where’s your kitchen?”

  “Right this way.” He led her there and winced again when her gaze settled on the massive pile of dirty dishes in his sink, then slid toward the trash can which overflowed with more to go containers, water and beer bottles. He hadn’t thought this through very well. The last few days had left him little time for domestic chores. His maid was regular, but regularly spent most of her day watching daytime talk shows. The place looked like a frat house. “Again, sorry for the mess.”

  “Well, it appears to be a lived in kitchen. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “You’re being way too kind.”

  She harrumphed. “I’d be a hypocrite to judge. When I get involved in a job project my place goes to hell in a hand basket real fast.” She walked over to his refrigerator, opened the door and peeked inside. “Hum. I see you have some nice science projects developing in here, much like my own fridge, but where’s the hamburger meat?” She gave him a saucy wink.

  Christian stifled a groan. “It’s in the freezer.” He really hadn’t thought out the details of this date—get together. “Why don’t we just order out? I skipped lunch and honestly I’m starved.”

  “Fine by me. What are you in the mood for?” She closed the door to the fridge, crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the counter.

  Christian stared at her standing there between his sink and fridge and could so easily imagine seeing her there often. Not in a domestic sense because he knew Tiffany avoided a kitchen like the plague. At family functions she always hung out with the men and did whatever they were doing, watching sports, hunting, playing poker. No, what he envisioned now was her standing there in some sexy, see-through lacy thing holding a cup of coffee, waiting on him to fix her breakfast. A grin spread across his face, thinking he might need Mia to give him a few cooking lessons.

>   “What’s that cat ate the canary smile about or do I want to know?”

  “You probably wouldn’t, but I’m sure you can guess.” He licked his lips, unable to get the picture of her he’d just created out of his mind.

  She made a little groaning noise then clasped a hand across her forehead. “I can’t do this if you’re gonna do that.” She spun and headed for the door.

  Christian took a giant step, grabbed her wrist, halting her. “Hey. Stop that. I’m sorry. I’ll behave. I made you a promise and you know I always honor my word. This is just dinner with a friend.”

  She sniffed, then asked tentatively, “Are we still?”

  Her expression, tone—well was as if she’d lost her best friend. That was his doing because he’d wanted to prove a point this morning—that she felt as much passion, longing and desire for him as he did her. The only point he’d proved was he’d been behaving like a selfish ass.

  He walked over to the kitchen table, took a seat and rested his elbows on the table edge.

  “What?”

  He heard her approach then settle into the chair beside him. He didn’t look up. “What happened was unexpected for us both. It was unfair of me to make assumptions or to push you toward something you don’t feel comfortable with.” He paused there to glance her way and take her hand. “We’ll always be friends. Nothing can change that and I won’t let anything destroy what we’ve always had.”

  The speech was real and from his heart, but nothing would prevent him from seeking a future with Tiffany. When the time was right he’d revisit the issue with her. For now he’d give her the berth she wanted.

  A wisp of a smile bloomed across her pretty face. “Thanks.”

  “Forgiven?” He squeezed her hand.

  She squeezed back. “Of course.

  An awkward silence ensued for several moments, then she let out a sharp huff. “Christian, I’m hungry. Either defrost that hamburger meat or let’s order some take out.”

  He laughed. “Okay. Let me get the phone book. Take out will be faster. What would you like?”

  She hunched a shoulder. “How about Mexican. Can you work with that?”

  “Whatever you want, Darlin.”

  “Forget the phone book.” She took her cell from the back pocket of her jeans and began to tap on the screen.

  “Here we go. Pedro’s Taqueria. Trust me the food rocks.”

  “I trust you.”

  “Cool.” She waved a hand over the screen, brought up hologram mode and made the call.

  He did trust her. Yes, they had issues, and not just from a vampire/human standpoint. They could work through that easily enough. Mixed couples had been making it work since the dawn of time. He believed in her strength, resiliency. He believed in them. Enough so, he refused to let himself think he might be setting himself up for a broken heart because she still suffered from one that might never heal.

  * * *

  After dinner, they settled on his couch and cruised pay per view options, on his rather outdated 52” flat screen, which he needed to replace. He was just too busy to give much thought to his home needs and decor these days.

  They chose a movie, oddly enough involving vampires. Generally, he found the Hollywood stuff about his kind foolish, but this one had a been highly touted by critics. Tiffany had made the same comment when they’d been deciding between it and several other recent releases. In the end he’d enjoyed the movie because it had been an intense, on the edge of your seat drama with a nice little romantic twist. It seemed she had too, judging from the way her face lit up during happy scenes and the cute way she chewed at her lower lip when the villain seemed to be getting the better of the good guys. In the end fatigue got the better of her. During the climax scene she passed out.

  Christian looked over at her, snuggled into the corner of his couch, with her knees pulled into her chest and her head resting on the sofa arm. Her luscious lips were parted and her breathing was slow and deep reflecting REM sleep. “Breathtaking,” he muttered, then picked up the remote and punched the off button. And mine. One day she’d realize that. He hoped.

  A few more minutes of the movie remained, but he didn’t care how it ended. Honestly, he could sit here all night and watch her because sleep shucked off a person’s emotions and defenses, exposing one’s real spirit. Hers was beautiful, passionate and driven which he knew from experience. She loved ferociously and had no problem placing her life on the line for someone she cared about. He’d seen her in action and wanted to be in that inner circle of her heart more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life.

  He scratched his temple and stared at her. Her head rested at an awkward angle and he knew if he left her in that position, her neck would be aching by morning. Taking a risk he stood, leaned down and eased his arms around her legs and shoulders, then very gently picked her up, praying he didn’t wake her. Knowing Tiffany, she’d come alive like a wildcat in his arms.

  She made a few fussy sounds, but luck was with him and he was able to get her into bed and under the sheet and comforter without waking her. He laughed softly when she let out a loud snore, then rolled onto her side and burrowed her way deeper beneath the covers.

  Damn. He was so tempted to crawl in beside her and snuggle up against all that feminine cuteness. Yeah, not a good idea. It would be the couch for him tonight. He grabbed a pillow then headed for the living room. He’d just laid down and worked himself into a comfortable position when his cell began to ring.

  He sat up, grabbed the device off the coffee table noticing both the time and caller. Ten forty four p.m. and Noah? This could not be good. Noah was on call tonight and would never bother him unless there was a problem.

  He answered quickly. “What’s up?”

  “A crisis, I’m afraid. I’ve had two deliveries this evening. Both infants were stillborn.”

  * * *

  Tiffany rolled over with a grunt, then reached toward her bedside table for her phone to check the time. It was the first thing she did when she woke, an ingrained habit she’d had for years. When she felt neither the wood surface of her bedside table or her device, her eyes popped open.

  “What the hell?” she muttered then scrambled upright in a kingsized bed which was not hers. Her gaze sliced across the unfamiliar surroundings of a bedroom which was also not hers, but it only took seconds to figure out to whom it belonged. Jeans, shirts, lab coats, male skivvies and cowboy boots were strung everywhere, across the masculine furnishings, the end of the bed and the plush tan carpeted floor.

  Apparently, Christian’s housekeeper needed to be working a few more days a week. That or he needed to hire a team of them. The guy was a slob, but an awful cute one.

  She remembered last night, put two and two together, then grinned. She’d crashed during the movie and obviously Christian had taken her to his bed. Despite common sense, she was a little disappointed he wasn’t with her.

  “Sweet,” she muttered, meaning his consideration of her comfort and the fact he’d been totally sweet. Tiffany really enjoyed last night which had been light and fun. No pressure. He hadn’t once attempted to push things romantically. It had been like old times. Oddly that thought didn’t give comfort, but left her feeling a bit empty and sad. Be that as it may, things had to be this way. For her job. Their friendship. Her sanity.

  So where was he? The couch seemed the most likely answer, or perhaps a spare bedroom. His location wasn’t her primary concern at the moment, locating his bathroom was. She found it two doors down the hall on the right.

  “Dear God,” she muttered as she made her way to the toilet, gingerly stepping across piles of towels and more discarded clothing. The vanity was littered with all sorts of shaving crap, wadded up wash clothes and hand towels. Whatever he paid this housekeeper of his--it was too much.

  Once relieved, she splashed some water on her face, pulled out her hair tie and refastened her pony tail. As freshened as she could be, she made her way to the living room, but found it empt
y. She spotted her cell on the coffee table and retrieved it, checking the time. Six forty six. About right. Her internal alarm clock had been set for six thirty for years.

  Next she checked messages a bit surprised to find one from Christian. The message read: An emergency has arisen at the clinic. If I’m not there when you wake up, please make yourself at home, Darling. I’ll see you soon.

  Tiffany blinked at the device, confused and a bit worried. The emergency was probably just a patient who had gone into labor. She checked the time of the message which was twelve thirty seven a.m.. That seemed odd. Surely, he’d have returned by now, but then she remembered her mother telling her she’d been in labor with her for sixteen hours.

  “Well, whatever,” she muttered as she grabbed her Ropers off the floor next to the couch. She’d see Christian at some point today so she could thank him for last night, but in the meantime, she needed go home and get cleaned up for work.

  She’d just finished tying a bow on her right boot when she heard the front door open. Her gaze slashed that direction. Christian walked inside, quietly shut the door, then stood there staring across the room at some arbitrary point. Tiffany knew immediately something was wrong because his features were wreathed in exhaustion. She could sense anger percolating in him too. There was a slight tick in his right jaw. He started to scare her.

  She bolted to her feet and went to him. “What happened?”

  He strode past her, then plopped down on the couch, leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees.

  Oh, this was not good, Tiffany thought. She’d never seen Christian like this. He was always Johnny on the spot with a happy smile or teasing comment.

  Something really bad had messed with his world last night.

  Tiffany wanted to comfort him, but had no idea how to proceed. She sucked at patting hands and offering ‘it will be all rights’.

  Well, she’d just have to figure it out as she went. No way would she bail on him. She crossed the room and took a seat beside him, clueless as to what to say or do. Operating on blind instinct, she took hold of his right hand and squeezed. “You can talk about it if you want. If not, I’m just going to sit here quietly until you tell me to get the hell out.”