HeatedMatch Read online

  She felt as if she’d been slapped. “C’mon,” Rowan murmured and slung his arm around her waist as he guided her out of the room. Neither noticed that William followed close on their heels.

  “Son. Wait a minute,” William called after they’d left the command room behind.

  Rowan halted their progress and turned her to see Adam’s father hurrying toward them.

  Worry was painted all over the older man’s face. “Where are you two going?”

  She glanced up at Adam’s brother. “Back to Chase’s room?” Chase could help them plan what to do. She was at a loss. Shep was obviously going to keep them out of the loop and there was no way she’d hide out in Beltsville while Adam was in danger.

  “I’m coming with you,” William said.

  The three of them burst into Chase’s recovery room where they were met with a wide grin that quickly turned into a frown.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Adam’s…”

  “Adam’s gone missing,” Rowan finished for her when tears caught in her throat, limiting her ability to speak.

  She swallowed and tried to calm down enough to talk. “Shepard is focusing on the hotel room and ignoring the fertility clinic.”

  Chase tsked.

  “I know. I think it’s stupid also. What do we do?” Loren asked.

  “We go to the fertility clinic,” Rowan said. “And I’m going to need someone to catch me up and tell me what the hell Adam is doing at a fertility clinic.”

  Adrenaline started pumping and a focused calm took over her brain as Chase quickly briefed him. Rowan was right. If Shep wouldn’t investigate the fertility clinic, they would. After all, she and Rowan weren’t official members of the Program. They were under no obligation to follow orders. “I agree,” she said and turned to William. “You?”

  He nodded. “Legally, I’m obligated to follow Shep’s chain of command, but I support you one hundred percent. In fact, I’ll put together the money to get you two on the soonest flight to Heathrow.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” Rowan said.

  William acknowledged Rowan’s endearment with a small smile, but remained outwardly focused on rescuing his eldest son.

  “I’ll call Xander and get his take. He’s on the ground in London and you’ll need him if you’re going to do a little B and E at the fertility clinic,” Chase said.

  “We’re not going to sneak in,” she said. “We’re going to make an appointment. Right, honey?” she asked Rowan with a meaningful stare.

  “Huh?” Rowan frowned then grinned. “Oh, yeah, darling. Is my little honeypie sad because she wants a baby and can’t get one from my swimmers?”

  “You better believe it.” She smiled at Rowan’s quick comprehension and acceptance of her plan to pose as a married couple to get into the clinic.

  “I’ll get you on a plane,” William said. “You make the call to the clinic, Loren. Chase, get Xander on board. Rowan, go pack, and if anyone sees you with a suitcase, tell them you’re bringing more stuff from home now that you’re moving on campus.”

  “You’ll need a suit,” Chase advised, “if you’re acting like a wealthy couple with fertility issues. Adam’s suit will be too short for you. Take one of mine. Apartment 420. Door’s open. No one bothers locking around here since most residents could pick nearly any lock in seconds.”

  Rowan saluted then left the room.

  Loren raced out and back after retrieving her laptop with all her information about the clinic. She and William got busy making phone calls. William borrowed Rowan’s phone so no evidence of his misdeed would be on record. Loren used her laptop’s voice-over IP option since she didn’t want the clinic to be able to trace the call back. Any claims of being a wealthy power couple would be immediately shot down if the clinic did a simple internet search on the number popping up in their caller ID.

  “No luck,” she said a few minutes later, hanging up in disappointment. “There’s a six-month waiting list to get in.” She slumped into her chair, debating what to do next.

  “Call in a favor,” Chase said. “Would Ambassador Christenson get you in?”

  “Don’t think so. He doesn’t know me, but one of the other families I spoke to may help.” She scrolled through her list of other families she and Adam had called and found the name she was looking for. Marilyn Rutger was one of the moms who had used First Choice to impregnate her. She was a single mother and founder of a large European cosmetics company. She had both the clout and sympathetic nature to possibly be willing to help Loren. She glanced at her watch and made some quick calculations. It was midmorning here, so there was a good chance Marilyn would still be at the office and have time to pull some strings at First Choice. Loren got busy dialing.

  “Marilyn Rutger, please,” she said to the pleasant voice playing gatekeeper for the woman. After a few rebuffs, Loren was able to talk her way onto Marilyn’s direct line. She quickly made her request, lying through her teeth about her sudden need to get into the clinic. It helped that she and Adam had made all their research calls in the guise of a married couple looking to have children and researching their options. Marilyn was pleased she’d made a decision to go with First Choice.

  Loren said nothing about her suspicions that the clinic was a front for more nefarious purposes. If her theory were way off base, she’d have started a rumor with a powerful woman with access to mainstream media. Better to say nothing of her suspicions and possibly get a huge lead into where the missing children were.

  It went far easier than expected. Marilyn had her administrative assistant make the call to the clinic and a few minutes later, Loren smiled down at the email confirming their appointment time at First Choice.

  *

  “Try to relax, Mr. Blacker,” the doctor said, pulling some latex gloves over her hands. Her eyes were sad, but her body language was all professional as she reached for him.

  Adam closed his eyes and visualized the last gunshot wound he’d inflicted, the smell of the gym after a day of working out, his mother’s funeral, the odd little nub where Rowan’s arm was supposed to be…anything to stop from feeling the doctor’s hand on his dick, stroking it to hardness. His stomach lurched and he thought he might vomit. In all the worst-case scenarios Shep had forced them to drill, getting hand-raped by a total stranger had never even entered the realm of possibilities.

  He cursed his gender as he felt the blood rushing to his groin, swelling his shaft. It was simple biology. His stupid penis was going to respond when the passably attractive doctor gave him a decent hand job. It was his worst nightmare. He’d been dead-set against getting Loren, his genetic match, pregnant. He sure as hell was terrified of fathering children under forced circumstances and letting them be raised by strangers and then conscripted into an evil army.

  He couldn’t let himself come. It was that simple. He focused on the poor parents who’d pay Paulson’s clinic to be implanted with a fertilized egg they thought was their own creation. Instead it would be the DNA of Adam and another woman. Paulson nor the doctor had said anything, but he suspected they had frozen eggs from hundreds of women, probably college-age girls volunteering their eggs for money. He’d seen the ads in the newspaper. He’d lay odds they’d analyzed the DNA to ensure a good match with his. It might be a good match, but it wouldn’t be perfect. There was only one person who was his perfect match and that was Loren.

  At the thought of her back home in Beltsville, his body went haywire. His heart pounded, a lump formed in his throat and he felt his cock soften.

  “What happened?” the doctor asked, tugging faster. “Why did you lose your erection?”

  He remained silent with his eyes shut, focused on Loren, keeping a clear picture of her in his mind. As long as he concentrated on her, he maintained control of his body. His panic gave way to laughter. There’d be no children. Not until he allowed it.

  “Relax,” she muttered. Her whisper tickled his ear. “This is the easy method. Please let me do this.”r />
  The doctor tried for a few more minutes but eventually stepped away from the table and left the room. His solitude didn’t last long unfortunately. She returned in minutes bringing Paulson and both his goons in tow.

  “The doctor says she’s having some trouble,” Paulson said.

  The derisive laughter of the bodyguards bounced off the sterile tile of the room, grating Adam’s ears, but he didn’t respond to their taunts or threats.

  “Have you suffered from erectile dysfunction your whole life?” the female doctor asked.

  His only response was to raise his middle finger from his fist under the leather restraint.

  Paulson rubbed his chin with an age-spotted, wrinkled hand. “I don’t believe that’s the problem here. My inside contact in Beltsville neglected to mention you were matched. Is that the case here?”

  Adam refused to answer. Nothing about his life was the business of this psychopath. He didn’t know why thinking of Loren gave him the ability to control his arousal, but he wasn’t going to question the gift, nor was he going to share any helpful tips with his captors.

  “I surmise by your silence I am correct.” Paulson smiled. “This presents an exciting change of plans. I will have my contact get your match to us at the first opportunity. I don’t know why I didn’t think of getting a matched couple in the first place.”

  At Paulson’s threat, he started struggling for real against his bonds. Loren in this foul place?

  Not. Going. To. Happen.

  Obscenities flew from his mouth as he thrashed against the leather like a wild animal trapped in a cage. “You won’t touch her, Paulson. I’ll fucking kill you and burn this place to the ground before that happens.”

  Both goons stepped toward him with violence promised on their expressions.

  “My dear boy,” Paulson said, “I don’t see how you’ll stop me. Calm him down, boys, but don’t hurt him too badly. Stay above his hips.”

  The motherfucker left and his two henchmen stepped closer.

  Adam smiled. This he could handle. He welcomed the pain. It matched his emotional state right now. “Bring it, gents.”

  An unknown time later he woke, no longer strapped to the gurney in the exam room. He was in a small cell, about eight-feet square. There was nothing in the room other than a thin mattress on the floor and a prison-style toilet. Nothing covered the mattress, not even a blanket. Smart of his enemies. He could’ve easily used a sheet or blanket to strangle the next person who walked in the door.

  He tried to look down at his bodily damage and groaned at the pain that rippled down his side. He was still naked. Again, someone with his training could turn nearly anything into a weapon, including a pair of pants. He had broken ribs, definitely. He only hoped there was no internal bleeding. A quick swipe of his mouth revealed a loosened tooth. He forced himself to crawl to the toilet and spit some blood into the bowl.

  And…shit to the nth degree, his balls felt sore and heavy. The doctor must have done something while he was unconscious. Fucking hell, they got their sperm sample.

  Why the hell had he taunted Paulson’s apes? Because he was a hotheaded idiot. That’s why. But when they’d blithely threatened Loren, all rational thought had fled. He sat back on the mattress and took stock of his surroundings and any new benefits he had going for him. As far as he could tell it was a wait-and-see game. Someone knew what they were doing when they outfitted the room. There was nothing he saw as a potential weapon, and he’d received high marks for his creativity in his “weapons from thin air” class. “Shit,” he muttered.

  He lowered down onto the mattress and found the resting position that hurt the least when a soft thump sounded through the wall on his right. He sat up quickly then cursed at the renewed wave of pain. “Hello?”

  “Is someone there?” A soft, feminine voice with a British accent came through the wall.

  “Hello?” Adam called back softly in case there were guards who discouraged conversation between inmates.

  “Who are you?” the voice asked.

  “My name is Adam. Are you a prisoner here?”

  Silence.

  “I’m one too. It’s okay, you can trust me,” Adam encouraged, even though he wasn’t sure if he should trust her.

  “I am.”

  “How long have you been here?” he asked.

  “What month is it?” she asked.

  “July.” He waited while an outburst of sobs echoed through the wall.

  “I’ve been here nearly three months.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Emma,” she said. “Emma Harrison.”

  “Don’t cry, Emma. I’m going to get us out of here.”

  She blew her nose. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

  “I’m sure you have. Do you know why they kidnapped you in the first place?”

  There was a long silence, which he occupied by imagining all sorts of scenarios a young woman might find herself in. He promised himself Loren would never find herself in Emma’s position.

  “It’s my fault. I was stupid,” Emma said.

  “What happened?”

  “I was at university and a girlfriend told me I could make good money donating an egg to a clinic. She’d done it and made nearly seven thousand pounds. Way more than I made tending pub. But I had to think on it, you know?”

  He murmured encouragement for her to continue.

  “It was unsettling to think I could have a child that was part of me wandering around Europe but never know it. But I needed the money. I came and got tested.”

  “And they took you then?”

  “No. My friends knew I’d come that day. It would have been too easy to trace my disappearance back to here. I didn’t get taken until a few nights later. They’d given me fifty pounds and I went dancing with some friends to celebrate, because they said I seemed like a great candidate and would probably get through the whole testing process and make thousands.”

  “And you were thirsty, got a drink from the bar and the next thing you remember is waking up here.”

  “How did you know?”

  “It’s what I would’ve done if I wanted to take a girl. It’s too easy to carry a supposedly drunk girl out of a night club and have no one question you.”

  “I wonder if my friends are still looking or if they gave up. My flat mate can’t make rent without me. I’m sure my room is let.”

  “We will help you,” Adam promised. “My team will come get us out and we’ll help you get your life back.” At least he prayed it were true. He could take Paulson’s two goons, but even he couldn’t break through metal doors with high-tech locks. He would need backup from his team if he ever wanted to see home again, but he worried they wouldn’t find him in this hidden cell at the fertility clinic. “Are you ever let out of your cell?”

  Emma fell silent. Adam was about to let her keep her secrets when she spoke. “I’m allowed a daily walk down the hall, and of course I’m taken out for my exams and meds.”

  The note of depression rang deeply in her voice. “What kind of exams?” he asked.

  “World history,” she snapped. “It’s a fertility clinic, what kind of exams do you think? They shoot me up with drugs every day and I’m pretty sure I’ve gained a stone from them.”

  “Emma, I’m sorry.”

  “And I don’t know what happened the last time.”

  “Last time?”

  “The two big guys restrained me and the doctor put me under general anesthesia.” She released a sob. “When I came to, I was sore and weak. Anything could’ve happened, Adam. Anything.”

  He wanted to knock his way through the wall to put a comforting arm around the girl. “I’m sure they didn’t rape you if that’s what you’re worried about. I think Paulson wouldn’t allow any threat to your reproductive system. They probably just took your eggs.”

  “Thanks, that makes me feel ever so much better.”

  “We’re going to get out. I promise.”

&
nbsp; “If you say so,” she said, but he could hear the doubt in her voice. “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “Same reason as you. They want my DNA. They’re creating an army.”

  “Oh God. Oh…”

  No sounds other than sobs came through the wall. Adam crawled away from the wall, leaving Emma to a moment of privacy for her grief, and lay on the mattress, gathering strength for whatever came next. He hoped food. He hadn’t eaten anything since his light meal on the airplane. A hunger growl rolled up his stomach, causing pain through his bruised body.

  He lay on the mattress for what felt like hours staring up at the dismal light bulb on the ceiling. The Program’s training told him to seize the opportunity for sleep, especially since he didn’t know if there’d be another opportunity. A beaten, hungry operative was head and shoulders better than a beaten, hungry, tired operative. But sleep proved elusive and he couldn’t relax his body enough to snooze.

  For one, he was worried about Loren. If Paulson had managed to capture him, which was no easy feat, an untrained woman shouldn’t prove to be much difficulty. He would commit murder for a phone right now or any way to place a warning call back to Shep to keep Loren on lockdown. But he had nothing other than his thoughts.

  *

  Loren smiled at the customs agent and tried not to glance nervously at Rowan next to her. He was using one of Adam’s passports and William had assured them it would work. She tugged her bag over her shoulder and then crossed her fingers on that same hand. She inched closer to Rowan, trying to make it look as though they were an old married couple on holiday. Did agents always take long or look at the passport photos so carefully?

  Rowan admittedly had never been out of the country before, and had only been on an airplane once. However none of that showed as he’d boarded the plane and slept with the apparent ease of a seasoned road-warrior.

  “When did you lose your arm?” the agent asked.

  “Eighteen months ago. Car accident. This is our first vacation since the accident,” Rowan replied easily. He smiled down at her and took her hand. She squeezed his back.

  “We’re thrilled he’s healthy enough to travel now. For a while we weren’t sure he’d make it.” She injected all the love and fear she thought a wife would have about her injured husband into her words. It was too easy, since all she had to do was draw on her escalating fear for Adam.