Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut (24 page)

After breakfast, we set out in the Lotus for my next test
.
To say I felt anxious about meeting Doug's family would be a gross understatement. I worried how they'd judge me. Jordan's mother seemed indifferent, almost cold.

Jordan
. Guilt blanketed me again. It shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't be having a good time and enjoying Doug's company. When Jordan blurted out he loved me, he sounded desperate, almost frightened—the shy, teenage boy I'd only seen glimpses of when his driven, restrained alter ego took a break. Jealousy seemed to be the trigger that flushed out his true character, and I couldn't help but feel a slight thrill knowing I caused his self-restraint to falter.

Doug took my hand, interrupting my thoughts. "Relax. Everything will be fine."

I wasn't so sure.

A few minutes passed after we crossed a bridge, before we stopped at a large ornamental gate. Once Doug passed the retina scan, it opened. A private lane stretched over the summit of a hill and opened into a large meadow. Beyond a wildflower blanket sat an exquisite log home—the entire south side a wall of glass, reflecting the majestic mountain range it faced.

My mouth gaped. "That's your house?"

Doug simply grinned, steering the jeep to an empty parking space among several expensive private vehicles. We stepped through ornate entry doors to an inside balcony overlooking the living room below. A massive stone fireplace stretched floor to ceiling, cutting through the center of a wall of windows.

He tugged me up a staircase to a small, sun-wrapped room with two telescopes poised on tripods, facing different directions. I closed an eye and gazed through one. The view filled with a large glacier pouring out between two mountains and dropping to the ocean, close enough I could see the dirt clinging to the edges.

"Awesome. You should see this."

Doug moved the telescope away. "I don't need a telescope." He tucked my hair behind my ear and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "I'm already looking at something amazing."

His lips brushed lightly over mine, his teeth playfully nipping my bottom lip. I slipped my fingers through his silky hair and welcomed the lustful kiss placed on my mouth.

"Well, well!"

Our teeth raked when we jumped and I checked my bottom lip for blood. A distinguished gentleman filled the doorway. Midnight black hair, threaded with wisps of silver at the temples, crowned his head. His eyes were the color of dangerous, deep water, and when he smiled his white teeth gleamed in contrast to his olive skin.

"Son, are you going to introduce me to the enchanting young lady you're nibbling?" The burn was instant on my cheeks. "My, that blush is powerful. He took my hand, the same way Doug had, curling it around his fingers and placing a delicate kiss on top.

Doug hugged my waist. "This is Marli Davis, the candidate I'm interviewing. Marli, this is my father, Antonio Peterson."

"Tony, please. Antonio sounds too formal."

Mr. Peterson's arm replaced Doug's around my waist. He guided me down the staircase and my brain pled with my feet to remain on the stairs and not stumble. A small, delicate woman met us at the bottom. Doug tucked her under his arm and placed a light kiss on her head.

"Mom, this is Marli."

She took my hand in both of hers. "Welcome. I'm so glad you could join us." She tugged me with her, "Come help us girls in the kitchen." I glanced at Doug for rescue.

"Uh, Mom?"

"Shoo!" his mother gestured to him. "She'll be fine. Go keep an eye on your father and find Doogie. He's been waiting all day for his Uncle Doug."

She draped an apron over my neck and tied it tight at my waist. Out the large window in the dining room, I watched Doug scoop a little curly-red-haired boy onto his shoulders, both giving me an enthusiastic wave. A young girl with features resembling Doug from her deep blue eyes to her dark hair, appeared at my side.

"So you're Marli. You're much prettier than your picture."

"You must be Marah."

"Marah and Marli. That should be fun to keep straight." Another young woman appeared out of nowhere, obviously Doogie's mother with her head of long, silky red hair. She wiped her hands on her apron and held one out to me. "Hi, I'm Andrea. Doug's told us everything about you we could drag out of him. We're hoping we can get more information while we have you all to ourselves."

A shuffle of snickers rustled through the kitchen. Great.
Interview,
family style.

The party moved indoors when the sun dropped lower in the western sky, cooling the air with its descent. I excused myself to locate the powder room on the second floor. Slowly, I walked the length of the hallway, admiring the pictures hung at various levels on the wall. A few were of Doug's father standing with prominent people—one with the President.

On my right, a door to an elaborate office rested open and as I passed by, a voice called out. "Miss Davis?"

The wood floor creaked against my weight when I stepped inside. Tony Peterson moved from behind an ornate desk and walked toward me, gesturing to a small table next to where I stood. On a mirrored tray sat a crystal carafe filled halfway with a rich, amber liquid. Mr. Peterson poured a small amount into what looked like an enormous goblet and placed it in my hands.

"Hold the snifter with both hands and gently swirl. It warms the brandy." Mr. Peterson covered my hands and moved the snifter in a circular motion. "Like this." He smiled differently and his eyes reflected something unrecognizable, lurking in the dark blue. He lifted the globe of tawny fluid to my face. "Close your eyes and describe the bouquet." I scrunched my nose in protest and attempted to pull back. Mr. Peterson's tone sharpened. "Miss Davis, you should acquaint yourself with these small, but important, social nuances."

To avoid a harsher admonishment, I did as instructed. A sweet, but strong nutty aroma wafted from the bowl reminding me of old, expensive wood, the kind that lined the walls of elegant restaurants with white linen tablecloths and fancy waiters.

When I opened my eyes, a pleased expression relaxed Mr. Peterson's sour grimace. A wry grin curved his mouth. "Go ahead, have a taste. I think you'll find the flavor mellow for a French cognac."

"No thank you. I don't drink."

Another insistent nod suggested I not argue, but I still refused and handed him back the snifter. A gentleman I'd only seen twice all evening, stepped into the room. There was no mistaking the disapproval in his expression.

Tony Peterson's arm circled my waist. "Simon, you remember Miss Davis—Douglas's prospective assignee? She was about to sample my latest acquisition."

No…I wasn't.

His eyes carefully watched Tony Peterson, but he remained fixed in the doorway. "Sir, may I have a word with you in private?"

I slipped from Mr. Peterson's arm. "I should get back downstairs. Doug will be wondering what happened to me." They exchanged a curious glance as I walked between them.

The door clicked behind me and I stilled on the other side listening. I concluded that
Simon
was more than a butler and very brave when he immediately chastened Tony Peterson.

"Sir, what were you thinking offering alcohol to the girl? She's underage! We can't afford dangerous mistakes this early in the game."

Tony Peterson's timbre changed to almost a dangerous resonance. "Simon, Miss Davis is not your concern. I'm fully aware of the consequences, but I had to test my theory. She's strong, just as I'd hoped. You must understand, I will do everything in my power to ensure this transaction succeeds. I can't leave this matter to chance, nor can I trust my son to carry through on his own. This is business, Simon. Business."

What? My heart smacked my ribs and the sudden wave of adrenalin made me hot and light headed. I braced myself against the wall.
I was a business transaction? Some commodity to be wagered? Tested?

Footsteps shuffled behind the door and I hurried down the hall. When I rounded the corner, I bumped into Doug coming the other way.

"Marli?" My legs wobbled and he grabbed my shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel well."

"Must have been something you ate. Maybe you should lie down." He towed me by the hand down another hallway and into a room at the end.

I really just wanted him to take me back to the hotel, but when I suddenly did feel queasy, I was grateful for the edge of a bed I could sit on until it passed—not humiliate myself by vomiting on the light beige carpet.

Doug brought me a glass of water to sip and closed the door, silencing the room. He walked over to an elaborate bookcase and selected some soft alternative rock music to play over the speakers mounted in the ceiling. A pair of skis crossed each other in a corner, and various sized trophies and model cars nestled on shelves among real hardcover books. Pictures of Doug filled one wall.

When I realized we were in Doug's bedroom, a weight settled in my chest and icy threads crawled through me. I crossed to the other side of the room—away from the bed. Outside the double doors was a private patio, secluded inside a tall wall. No escape.

My voice trembled. "Doug, I don't think this is a good idea."

Gentle kisses skimmed my bare shoulder and Doug's lips grazed my neck before cradling the shell of my ear. "I disagree." He turned me, pressing a provocative kiss to my lips and hugging my body into his curves.

"Doug—"

"Shhh." He kissed the hollow of my throat, his hand wandering up my ribcage.

"Okay, stop, please."

His kisses became more demanding. "I promise not to cross any lines," but his thumb betrayed the promise, stroking across my breast

I shoved his hand away. "What the hell? I said knock it off!" I stepped away, angrily wiping any trace of his kiss from my lips. "I think you better take me back to the hotel. This so-called 'business transaction' is not happening."

Doug barely said ten words on the return trip, most used to cuss out a shuttle that cut him off in traffic. He parked the Lotus and angled to face me.

"Marli, I'm sorry about earlier. I was out of line."

"Slightly! Goodnight Doug." I shoved the passenger door open and escaped the metal cage.

Doug scrambled out of the car and shuffled on the pavement to stay in front of me, blocking my getaway. He put his hands up. "Please stop. I don't know how you got the impression this whole set-up was some kind of business deal, but it's not."

Dare I tell him I overheard a private conversation to the contrary?

I crossed my arms. "Oh really? Isn't that what this genetic match game is all about? The government buys our futures in exchange for special privileges? To The Program, candidates are merchandise; our arranged lives neatly packaged for trade."

Doug moved closer. "You make it sound cold, if not cruel. Marli, you're not some product to be marketed. You're a person—a very nice one it turns out and frankly, I'm glad I selected you for an interview." He lifted my chin. "In fact, I've decided I want you as my assignee."

I clamped his wrists. "You can't! I'm not eighteen!" I dragged in several deep breaths, pushing down the panic. "We've barely known each other twenty-four hours. That's not enough time to base a lifetime decision on.
My
lifetime
.
No! Got that? No!" I eased around him and marched toward the hotel.

"I don't have to ask your permission, you know," he yelled after me. "Please, just think about it."

I barreled through the entrance without looking back. I half expected him to chase after me, but the squeal of tires echoed behind me. I didn't think a hybrid could burn rubber.

After three attempts, I finally entered the penthouse. "Message Waiting" flashed in neon green against the ceiling and wall.

Geesh! Why the techno show? What's wrong with a simple blinking light?

I kicked off my shoes and crawled on the bed, hitting the message button. Several numbers scrolled, all from Rick. The fear of why he called eclipsed Doug's proposal.

Why hadn't he called my receptor?
Because I'd shut it off to avoid Jordan.