HeatedMatch (27 page)

On one hand it made perfect sense to stay with him. She’d
always believed marriage lay somewhere in her distant future. If she gave up Adam,
would she ever find a partner who completed her, who made her laugh or shiver
in passion as well as he did? Doubtful.

But then add in her newly developed fear of living a
military lifestyle with a husband disappearing to all parts of the world. He’d
be going on dangerous missions and coming home with death in his eyes. It made
for a volatile cocktail. If he came home at all. Through her mother, she’d seen
firsthand the trauma and damage losing a spouse at a young age could do. Her
mom had never quite recovered and lived a reclusive, solitary life.

Deep in thought, Loren found herself on the outskirts of the
one-story, single-family brick homes given to matched couples with children. It
was her first time exploring this part of the compound and she had yet to meet
any of the wives or children. Two women, who looked a few years older than she,
sat chatting on the front steps of one of the homes. Three toddlers ran in
circles around a sprinkler, shooting water at their ankles. Squeals of glee
filled the air. Loren grinned as she noticed not a stitch of clothing on any of
the children. Correction. One child had on a pink and rhinestone tiara, which
clung to tangled curls.

“Loren.” Both mothers waved their arms over in a welcoming
gesture.

She walked over to them, avoiding the spray of the
sprinkler. “Hi. How do you know me?”

The women exchanged a glance. One answered, “Think of the
Program like a small high school. No one or no bit of gossip goes unnoticed.”

“And you, my dear, are quite a large bit of gossip,” the
brunette informed her.

“Great.” Annoyance flickered through her. It would take some
getting used to, the whole small-town mentality. But she was leaving. Wasn’t
she?

“I’m Beth, by the way, and this is Danielle.”

Both women’s smiles were open, welcoming. Loren returned
their warm smiles with one of her own.

“Have a seat,” Danielle invited. “We’ll try to protect you
from the water warriors.”

“That’s fine. It’s so hot, I wouldn’t mind a little water,
and besides, I love kids.”

“Do you? That’s good.”

Smiles lit up their open faces, but Loren sensed these women
were dying to grill her. “Go ahead,” she groaned. “Ask away, I can tell you
want to.”

Again Danielle and Beth shared a look then a laugh. “Are we
that obvious?”

“Yep. But it’s okay, because I have some questions for you
too.” The three women smiled at each other in mutual accord.

“Did you really go after Adam on a mission?”

She nodded and both women nodded along with her.

“I’d do the same thing if my man went missing,” Danielle
said. “I’m glad you’re back safely.”

“How’s Adam doing?”

“Fine,” she mumbled. “I’d rather not talk about him right
now.” She pretended not to see the meaningful glances Beth and Danielle
swapped.

“Understood. I’ll change the topic. Your father was part of
the Program, right? But you grew up knowing nothing about us?” Beth asked.

“That’s right. I didn’t know anything until I showed up here
to investigate for my job.”

“Where did you work?” Danielle asked.

She took slight umbrage at the use of past-tense. She didn’t
used
to work at
The Post
. She was still an active employee there;
at least until her boss got fed up with her extended personal leave of absence.
“I
work
at
The Washington Post
as a research assistant. I’ll go
back to work as soon as possible.”

And yet again, the two other women exchanged significant
glances.

“What?” A trace of annoyance slipped into her question.

“Does Adam know you plan on returning to work?” Beth asked
gently.

Loren looked at the two women who glowed with happiness and
contentment watching their children frolic. They were potential friends, but
she was used to keeping things close to her chest. She decided to trust them.
“I’ve never mentioned it, but I’m sure he knows I plan to work. And how do you
know so much about me?”

A huge grin covered Beth’s face. “We told you, it’s a small
town around here. Everyone knows everyone.”

“And everything about everyone,” added Danielle. “In a good
family way, though.”

Loren decided to change the subject before they asked if she
and Adam had sealed the deal yet. Family or not, there were some topics not
open for discussion. “What did you do before you moved here? How did you two
get recruited into the Program?”

“I grew up here,” Danielle said. “My dad was part of the
Program and all offspring are automatically registered and tested. They give
you a choice, of course, about staying, but there was no real choice for me.
Matthew was it. He grew up here too. It was pretty obvious to everyone that we
were a destined match once puberty hit.”

“What about you, Beth?”

“I was recruited. I applied for an administrative assistant
job I saw on a job listing site, got hired then I met Garrett. Well…you know
the feeling. It hits you like a ton of bricks to coin a corny phrase. I stayed
on and married the guy, and a few years later…” Beth gestured to the toddlers
running in circles.

“Does your family know? Do you ever get to see them?”

“Oh God, yes. All the time….well, not
all
the time,
but most major holidays.” Beth put a comforting hand on Loren’s shoulder. “Did
you think you’d get sucked in and never be allowed to leave the compound
again?”

“After the last forty-eight hours of my life, I’d be pretty
darn happy not to leave the compound.”

The women smiled sympathetically. “Everything’s changing
since Ryan’s wife went to the press and spilled the beans on the Program. Now
that everyone knows about this place, I bet security loosens up a bit.”

“Though I imagine Shep would want you to quit your job and
all. I mean it would be tricky to have a journalist living here. But they’d
find something for you to do on campus.”

Loren didn’t think she liked the sound of that. Quit her
job? No thank you.

One woman turned her attention to a sodden princess who’d
come tripping up the steps, tear stains on her cheeks.

As Beth soothed the woes of her daughter, Loren thought
about the consequences of quitting her job some more. But learning about her
father’s real career had definitely caused some second thoughts about her
career goals. He hadn’t been a true journalist at all. He’d dedicated his life
to the Program. She’d proven she could be an asset to the team, and in some
ways, helping them was like the best part of journalism with all the
investigative research and puzzle solving. Quitting was not thrilling, but it
was nice to know she had some options. As long as the options didn’t include
going into the field again. She’d done that once, thank you very much, and
didn’t ever want to ride that particular adrenaline roller-coaster again.

Looking around, she noticed shivers and goose bumps running
along the little princess’s body. A stack of folded, clean towels sat in a neat
pile behind her. She grabbed the top one, shook it out and wrapped it around
the little girl’s body, who gave her a grin and a hug. The towel fell off, and
Loren picked it up and wrapped it around the little girl for the second time.

“What do you say, Kylie?” Beth asked her daughter.

“Tank you.”

Loren smiled down at the adorable toddler and wondered if
any child of hers and Adam’s would have blond or dark hair. Curls definitely,
color was up for grabs. She looked up to see Beth and Danielle watching her,
expectant looks on their faces.

“You’re good with kids.”

Feeling like a fraud, she shrugged. “Thanks. I don’t really
have much experience with children. Kylie’s adorable, though. All the kids are.”

Both mothers beamed. Kylie curled up on her mother’s lap and
looked at Loren with big blue eyes.

“Beth, did your family have any clue what your husband does
for a living? Or do they know now? Didn’t they get suspicious that you never
invited them over for dinner? Or are they allowed on campus now that the big
secret’s out?” Loren asked, thinking about her mom and her best friend, Paige.

Beth’s eyes held a tiny shadow, but she answered Loren’s
question honestly. “They thought Garrett was in the military and we lived on a
base overseas. Technically it was somewhat true except for the overseas part. I
feel badly sometimes that I can’t host a Thanksgiving dinner for my family, but
I do end up having a huge feast for lots of residents. Your fiancé is a dark-meat
man, by the way.”

“He’s not my fiancé,” Loren said. “We’ve just been matched.
Nothing more.” She firmly slammed the door on any more stray thoughts of
parenting and children with blond curls and chocolate-colored eyes. She also
felt uncomfortable sharing Adam’s deep-rooted fear of being a father with
strangers.

“Oh. Sorry. I assumed…” Beth trailed off, pink highlighting
her cheekbones.

“How many…” Loren started to ask how many other married
couples lived on campus, but she was interrupted by Kylie announcing “hungry”.
Beth and Danielle agreed and herded the other water babies onto the porch.

“Stay for lunch?” Danielle asked. “I made chili.”

“No thank you, but I’d love to come by another day. I think
I’m going to keep walking. It was really nice meeting you both.” She bent down
to Kylie’s level. “You too, sweetie.”

She hopped down the porch steps and continued her walk along
the path of brick houses. She could see men heading for the dining hall way off
in the distance. Her body was all out of whack from the jetlag and lingering
Ketamine, but a rumble reminded her she could handle some food. The walk had
helped a little, though her feelings on staying with Adam were still a jumble.
Until she closed her eyes and pictured herself back in her Arlington apartment.
Alone. No Adam. And fending off advances from men like Derrick Bloom. But then
she pictured herself here, chasing after Adam, trying to get him to give
something he wasn’t willing or able to give, and her heart just about cracked.

Grief that was almost a physical pain assaulted her. Who had
she been trying to kid? She had to leave.

* * * * *

“Paulson?” Keel whispered into his phone, shocked and scared
that Paulson dared to call. “Don’t call me on this number. I don’t know what
happened in London, but everyone returned suspicious. The whole thing is about
to blow up.”

“Keel, calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down? This very moment, I’m supposed to be
at a meeting with Adam Blacker to discuss hunting for you. Instead I’m hiding
in my house pretending to have a cold.”

“I have another business proposition for you.”

Keel wanted to throw the phone. Nothing Paulson offered
could be worth the fear that Adam was going to burst into his home any minute,
hell-bent on revenge. Until Paulson started mentioning numbers.

“You managed to get what you needed from Blacker?”

“Yes,” Paulson said. “I don’t know if he knows our doctor
was able to extract his semen while he was incapacitated. He must suspect.”

“What do you need from me?”

“We need his match. And I want Doctor Jones back, but I want
Loren more. She slipped through our fingers. Without Dr. Jones, our only hope
of delivering a baby on time to my clients is to have Blacker’s match.”

Keel started to feel that perhaps he did have the flu. How
the hell was he to convince Loren Stanton to get on a plane to London? When he
expressed his doubts, Paulson upped his payoff and he started to plot.

Chapter Fourteen

Adam checked his watch, wondering how Loren was doing on her
walk. “I’m not ready to eat yet. I’m going to hit the range.” He nodded at
Gavin and headed outside in the direction of the shooting range. A short walk
had him arriving at the indoor target range within minutes, but he was not
alone. Xander and, of all people, Rowan, stood at one cubicle, his brother
firing an automatic with Xander observing closely.

At his approach, Rowan lowered the weapon and turned to
greet him, lowering his protective ear covers. “Bro. What’s up? You looking for
me?”

“No. Came to shoot.” He nodded to Xander who returned the
gesture and then retrieved Rowan’s paper target.

“Nice work, man. Your aim is improving. Soon I’ll upgrade
you to a Glock.” Xander clapped Rowan on a shoulder.

Coming from Xander, that was real praise, akin to a
Presidential Medal. What was going on? Xander was teaching Rowan how to shoot?

Rowan must have noticed his confusion for he said, “Xander’s
working with me so I can join the team. Says I’m a natural.”

The team? As in his team? He shot a questioning look to
Xander who confirmed it with a nod.

“Your brother’s strong and deadly accurate. He’d be a total
asset. We wouldn’t have made it out of the clinic yesterday without him.”

“B-but—” Adam couldn’t find the words, and the innate
protective brain-mouth connection stopped him from saying what he really
thought, that a disabled soldier was a dead one.

Rowan placed his gun on the ledge with a tiny click and
cocked his head at Adam. “Is that not okay?” he asked in a deceptively mild
voice.

Adam knew his brother. The calmer he got, the more
dangerous.

Xander sensed the undercurrents flowing between the Blacker
brothers and exited the range without another word.

With all the emotional junk weighing on his mind, he didn’t
need to pick a fight with Rowan too. His brother was one of the few people he
could really count on to have his back. He swallowed his verbal doubts. “No,
it’s cool, Rowan. I was surprised. Didn’t know you’d be interested in joining.”
But then he remembered Rowan’s cool head during the raid on Paulson’s clinic.
Xander had admitted his brother was an asset and he wouldn’t have successfully
rescued Adam without Rowan’s help.

“Well, it’s not like I was ever given a choice now, was I?”
Rowan reminded him, still in his calm voice.

Adam winced at the direct hit. It was good to see his
usually lazy brother take an interest in something other than reality
television, and if Xander thought he’d be an asset, maybe he had a point.
“You’d really want to go out in the field?” he asked, concern for his brother
overriding his own personal drama over Loren.

“Hell yeah.” Rowan nodded enthusiastically. “Since moving
here, I feel part of something, a team. I like it. It’s kind of like our old
neighborhood gang, but with much better hardware. I was scared as hell
yesterday, but it was a good kind of scared, you know?”

He was overly familiar with that adrenaline rush. Adam
laughed. “That’s for sure. But…” He broke off, not sure how to broach the
subject without offending Rowan.

“Go on, Adam. Say it,” Rowan said. “You’re dying to ask
about my arm. I know you.”

He looked down at his feet, over at Rowan’s empty shirt
sleeve, then into his brother’s eyes. “Yeah. About your arm…you don’t think
you’d be hindered or at a disadvantage?”

Rowan shrugged. “Xander doesn’t think so, and it never put
me at a disadvantage growing up. I learned to do things a little differently
than everyone else.”

Adam thought about that for a minute. His whole perception
of Rowan as a disabled person took a shift and a spin toward negation. “Does
Shep know? What about Dad?”

“Shep was the one who told Xander to train me, and he told
Dad he was setting things right.” Rowan grinned then frowned. “Did you know
Shep never thought I was defective and couldn’t be part of the team?”

“It was really Dad who went off the deep end and drove Mom
away after you were born.”

Rowan leaned back against the waist-high railing of the
shooting range. A thoughtful look crossed his face. “I’ve been spending a lot
of time with Dad, and I’m not sure he was the one to drive Mom away.”

“What do you mean, Ro?”

“I mean, I think other forces were at work. Dad thinks
someone put a bug in Mom’s ear about me being defective. He claims he never
said anything to her directly, and definitely nothing about making her give me
up.”

“Give you up? What the hell are you talking about?” It was
like watching the play of his whole life only to discover he’d been watching
the wrong stage for thirty years. Apparently he’d been the prelude and Rowan
was the main act.

“Something or someone made Mom run away. According to Dad,
they’d had some tension between them after I was born, but no major blow-ups or
anything to make her run away without ever talking to him again.”

Adam searched his memory banks, wishing he could remember
anything from that hazy time when he was a toddler living with two loving
parents, but he came up with nada. “So, Dad thinks someone made Mom leave
campus? Why?”

Rowan tossed a nearly invisible pebble at the paper target.
“Dunno. But why else would she leave the husband she claimed to love to go live
in the shithole we grew up in?”

It was a good question. One for which Adam had no answers,
and, honestly, it all had happened nearly thirty years ago. Did it really
matter, especially when the one person who could unveil the truth was long
dead? He started to tactfully state this, but the words froze at the look on
Rowan’s face.

“I think I know what you’re going to say, Adam. And yeah, it
matters to me. I grew up feeling responsible for Mom’s unhappiness. It only got
worse when you ran away.”

Guilt slammed at him, but before he could apologize, Rowan
continued. “I’m going to keep digging, because I need to know. Plus, Dad wants
to know.”

“He does?” This surprised Adam. “He never mentioned anything
to me.”

“Because you told him we were dead. He didn’t want to bring
up a painful topic for you, when you’ve never been comfortable talking about
it, dumbass.”

Oh. Shit, he felt more like a jackass than a dumbass, but he
could make up for his past mistakes starting now. “I’m going to help,” he said.
“Whatever you need. I know the people on this campus better than you, so I can
ask around and introduce you to people who were here when Mom left.”

“Thanks.” Rowan clapped him on the back. “Now, how can I
help you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah you.” His brother rolled his eyes. “You look like
Eeyore in withdrawal from his happy pills.”

Adam released a crack of rusty laughter at Rowan’s
ridiculous comparison.

“Is it Loren?” Rowan asked, with a gentleness in his tone
Adam had never really heard before.

He nodded, unable to give voice to his feelings.

“What’s going on? I got the sense you were dropping L-bombs
on each other?”

“L-bombs?” Sometimes Adam couldn’t keep up with Rowan’s
slang.

“Love. Did you tell her you love her? Or is she mad she had
to go rescue your ass yesterday?”

“No, I didn’t. I can’t love her. You think Mom made you feel
guilty. Well she reminded me every day how dangerous it is to assume your
genetic match is also your true love. Loren wants something I can’t give.” He
closed his mouth to end the subject, but of course Rowan could never let it
lie.

“Of course she wants your love.” Annoyance shone on Rowan’s
face.

“What do I do?”

“Tell her you love her.” The word idiot hung silently in the
air.

“I can’t. I told you what Mom taught me. And now Loren
thinks I’m chickenshit and she may be right. I’m too scared to tell her I love
her,” Adam admitted. “Hell, I’m not even sure how to know if I do love her.” A
wave of sheepishness rolled through him. “And she wants kids too. My kids.” He
couldn’t tell his brother of his fears without sounding like an ass. After all,
it was because of Rowan he’d developed such an aversion to reproducing.

“You love her. The woman flew to London and rescued you.”
Rowan smiled. “If you don’t want her, I’m taking her. She’s got cojones. And?
Give her kids.” Rowan paused. “Unless…you can’t. Oh man. Xander never mentioned
anything about sterility or impotency. Do they give you meds? Snip your
swimmers? What?” He paced a step toward the exit then back.

“What the heck are you talking about? No, the Program
doesn’t force sterilization or anything resembling it. If anything, the
opposite case exists.”

“Then what?” Rowan caught Adam’s pointed glance toward his
missing arm and scowled viciously as understanding dawned. “You bastard.”

He nodded, accepting the deserved scorn. “I’m too afraid.
What if our kid has some defects, then…”

“Then what?” Rowan asked. “He’ll be like me. Your
good-for-nothing lazy little brother. Is that what you’re scared of? You think
I’m worthless, and the joke on me is that my whole life I looked up to you.
Wanted to be you. Do you know why?”

He shook his head.

“’Cause you’re the craziest, bravest, son-of-a-bitch I know.
You took on the whole neighborhood and became the leader even though you were
the youngest. I never would have taken you for a coward.” Rowan stalked toward
the exit and turned back to say something. “I don’t know why I’m giving you any
advice, you prick, but here it is. Go read the box of letters I left for you.”

He recalled the dusty shoebox he’d ignored earlier. “Why?
How do you know what’s in it?”

Rowan shrugged and gave a wry grin. “I read them. Sue me.”
He exited with his usual swagger.

Adam watched his brother go, with the feeling of acid
roiling around his gut. He hadn’t bothered to defend himself, because Rowan
spoke nothing but the truth. He was a coward. He was no romantic, but for the
first time in his adult life, he was in love and was letting it slip through
his fingers.

Blindly, he slapped on a set of protective ear muffs and
yanked the target pulley to the proper spot. Three shots in, the pain from his
broken ribs numbed out as he entered a zone. His body fired the weapon on
autopilot, while his mind flashed to the dusty box. What was in those letters
that Rowan thought they might help? It was second nature to lock the gun in the
cabinet and return the rest of the equipment then he jogged back to his
apartment.

The box was right where he’d left it, and now he carefully
pried off the dusty lid and tossed it on the floor. There were letters, around
a dozen or so, all in envelopes with a name on the front. He recognized the
handwriting. His mom’s. He’d been reading through a similar box of epistles
since age fifteen, only all of those had his father’s name on the envelope.
These all bore the name Adam.

His hand shook a little as he reached for the top letter,
remembering his first night at the Program. He’d sat up all night reading the
stack of letters his mom had given to him. Those were for his father. These
were for him.

Dear Adam,

You left last night and the house is so quiet I don’t
know what to do. I always teased that we never knew if you were home or not,
you were so quiet compared to Rowan. Well, you’re not home, and believe me, we
know. Rowan’s pretending not to miss you. He’s angry, Adam. Someday we’ll have
to explain.

Mom

He shuffled through a few of the letters, scanning them.
Until he got to the final one, written, he recognized by the date at the top, a
few days before her death.

Dear Adam,

I should’ve swallowed my pride. Love is all you have.
Fight for it.

He stumbled to the bed, clutching the precious box in his
arms. Tears blurred his vision. Agony at finding a long-lost piece of his
mother combined with confusion and emotion at his tenuous relationship with
Loren, his match. But only if he agreed.

He read through some more letters, letting the tears fall
freely now, and then the words stopped penetrating. Instead, visions like a
movie played in his mind. Of Rowan fighting an attacker at Paulson’s clinic,
quickly followed by the image of Rowan shooting his target with deadly
accuracy. All singlehanded, of course. And then the movie shifted to Loren
lying helpless on the bed in Paulson’s clinic and his terror at seeing her
there.

Shit, he was an idiot. Make that a stubborn
blind
idiot. His mother was right. Love was all he had. If he let Loren go out of fear,
he’d be losing a part of himself. The most important part.

And Shep was wrong. He and Loren had one hundred percent
odds of creating a perfect child, because it would be
their child
.Hell,
he
should
have kids just to hold a little girl with Loren’s curls and
maybe his eyes. A shiver of fear caught him at the thought of a child missing a
limb, but for the first time ever Adam concentrated on that image and gauged
his reaction.

Nothing. No disgust or hate for the child or self-pity.
Instead, love bloomed at the vision of Loren holding their child, basking in
his love.

He had to tell her. Now. This minute… He practically burst
with his need to see her, hold her and kiss her. He sprinted out of his
apartment building and blinked in the summer sunshine. Both the glare of the
sun and the screaming pain in his ribs stopped him from sprinting the entire
compound in search for Loren. She’d been walking nearly an hour. The campus
wasn’t that big, he’d find her sooner or later. Hopefully sooner.

He had to think. Clearly and rationally. She’d eventually
make her way back to her house or his apartment, so if he waited by the
flagpole at the crest of the hill, he’d see her, whichever direction she chose.
He walked at as fast a clip as he could manage, gritting his teeth against the
pain each step caused. Hunger and exhaustion gnawed at him also. Shep had
pushed to admit him to their doctor’s care, but he’d refused, not wanting to go
anywhere near a medical facility.