HeatedMatch (5 page)

He didn’t let on that he’d heard her words. He didn’t want
to upset her more, but inside he felt a smile burst up through his chest and
threaten to cover his whole face. She’d thought he was cute… She also thought
he was a cold-blooded killer. He lost the smile.

“What? You think this is funny?” Hurt poured off her in
waves. “Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stopped and turned to face her directly. “I’m not
laughing at you. I’m trying to decide how to protect you from my boss.” He
gently tugged a piece of gravel out of a curl hanging over her cheek. “And I
think you look pretty good yourself.”

She stared at him, her mouth hanging open a bit. Then she
caught herself and slapped his hand out of the way. “I’m a mess right now
thanks to you and your buddy. And I don’t need protection. I can take of
myself.”

He smiled at her gently, disbelieving he was flirting with
her. He hadn’t meant to touch her, but his hand seemed to have a mind of its
own and ended up in her hair. Damn, it was soft, even with the gravel. But he
had to back away and leave her to Shep. And he would as soon as he ensured her
protection from his commander.

“I’m sure you can take care of yourself, but you wandered
into some serious shit here.”

“Why can’t you let me go? I promise I’ll never say a thing
to anyone.”

His facial expression shuttered closed. “Bullshit. You
already admitted you’re covering the kidnapping for
The Post
.”

She paled slightly. “I’m just trying to do my job. Don’t
punish me for that.”

He picked up their pace toward the main office building.
“Let’s go see what Shep has to say.”

Chapter Three

They continued the remaining fifty feet of the path to the
building. The distant sound of highway traffic filled the air, accompanied by
their feet crunching on the gravel. When they reached the entrance, he
flattened his palm onto a small, black metal box warmed from the hot summer sun.
Then he reached into another metal box that hung next to the scanner and pulled
out an individually wrapped cotton swab. “Here, wipe your inner cheek then put
it back in this plastic baggie.”

“Huh? Why?” She eyed the bag as though it held poison.

“Standard procedure for any visitors.” The DNA entry had
been designed for their protection. Lots of superficial identity things could
be faked or fudged, even a palm scan. A cheek swab done on the spot was
trickier. Besides, it was only one of the many protective devices occurring
while he and Loren stood in the entry. The palm scan was one, and was only for
residents of the compound. The cotton swab was another. In addition, a highly
specialized camera digitally recorded them and analyzed facial features. It was
then compared to a large database of known enemies and friends alike. As soon
as a new person entered the compound, their image would be entered into that
database.

Loren was unaware of all of this as she swabbed her mouth
with the cotton and put it in the bag. He took the bag and placed it in a
bank-like deposit drawer. Then the large metal door in front of them clicked
and Adam swung it open. They entered a tiny, bare room lit by harsh
fluorescents and the door behind them closed with a solid bang. He held up one
finger to Loren to tell her to hang on. He counted to five then saw the green
light on the next door. He held it open for her and motioned her forward and
responded to the questioning look in her eyes. “Safety precautions. We use a
basic mantrap, like at a bank.” He neglected to tell her there was nothing
basic about the poisonous toxins emitted if the wrong person triggered an
alarm.

She took in her surroundings with curious eyes. Then she
turned to Adam. “I heard the other guy call you Blacker. Is that your first or
last name?”

He held out his hand and started to introduce himself but
had second thoughts. “Sorry. It’s probably better for you if you don’t know my
name.”

But it was too late. She’d already grasped his palm and
emitted a gasp.

He managed to cloak his reaction better, but it was a
similar sensation to last night’s dance with her. An almost electric tingle ran
from their connected palms up his arm then flowed throughout his blood. He met
her wide-eyed gaze.

“What are you doing to me?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“Nothing. I was going to ask the same of you.”

They stood connected for another minute, breathing in sync
until she finally managed to pull her hand away first. “I think you should take
me inside now.”

Loren concentrated on slowing her pounding heart as her
escort walked her up a narrow corridor, which resembled every government office
she’d ever been in. The tingles running through her body were at odds with her
surroundings. Dull gray carpeting on the floor, beige walls adorned with
photographs of current and former presidents and harsh fluorescent lights
completed the look. She didn’t know what she’d expected. Not this. Surely such
a top-secret military compound should have moving walkways and sliding doors at
the very least. She glanced at the silent man padding alongside her and sensed
the strength in him was the main secret to this military compound.

He took her elbow again and the skin at her arm prickled in
little bumps at his proximity. His forearm grazed the side of her breast, and
she threw him a sidelong glance, which he met.

“Adam,” said an older gentleman, a trim man with a crew cut
and a military flair to his crisp, white button-down, who appeared in the
hallway ahead.

Now she knew his name, but there was no time to celebrate
that tiny victory. They both looked up like guilty children at the man’s
appearance.

“Sorry, Shep. I don’t know what came over me,” Adam said.

“Bring Ms. Stanton to conference room alpha. We’ll discuss
the situation further.”

He nodded and tugged gently at her arm to get her moving
down the hall. He swung open an unmarked door and gestured she should enter.
The room was as nondescript as the hallway with a small wooden table, two vinyl
chairs, a sofa and another door that looked as though it led to a bathroom. Two
bottles of flavored water rested on the table. It was a brand she’d never heard
of.

“Sir, this is Loren Stanton.” Blacker seemed to emphasize
her last name.

“I know who she is,” Commander Shepard said with a scowl.
“Have a seat, Ms. Stanton. You too, Adam.” He pointed to the couch, his tone
brooking no disobedience.

She sat on one edge of a cushion as far as possible from
Adam, because she didn’t trust herself not to turn to him for comfort against
Commander Shepard’s chilly welcome. The chill was somewhat welcome in the room,
which was not air-conditioned. The summer heat was uncomfortable, especially
after her exertions over her camera.

“I forgot my pen,” Shep said. “Stay here, you two. I’ll be
back in a minute.” He turned and exited, shutting the door behind him with a
snick
.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute. She tried
not to stare at him, because every glance elevated her heart rate and sent a
lovely floating feeling to the juncture of her thighs. Not a very professional
state. She desperately tried to recreate her mental question list for Commander
Shepard and wished she still maintained control of her purse with her notes
inside. “Your commander doesn’t seem to want me here.”

Adam shrugged. “He hates reporters. He never expected the
Program to be outed and thrust into the spotlight.”

A few more minutes passed and no Shep. Finally, Adam rose to
investigate. He turned the doorknob, but the door remained shut. “Shep,” he
called. No response.

She leaned over to grab the bottle of water off the table
and gulped down some welcome liquid.

A few more minutes passed while she shifted on the cushion,
straining to relieve a pressure that was building inside. She’d never felt
anything similar, the closest she could compare the sensation to was nearing
orgasm, but that seemed highly unlikely since she’d only managed that feat on
her own, never with a man. Something about Adam had her aching.

Finally, Adam threw his significant muscle at opening the
door, but it didn’t budge. “Shep,” he bellowed. “Why is the door locked?” He
rammed his upper body a second time, then a third before Shep answered from
behind the locked door.

“Sit down, Blacker, before you break an arm.”

Adam froze and returned to his perch on the couch, but not
before Loren noticed he sported a huge bulge at his crotch. Clearly she wasn’t
the only one affected by the other.

“I locked you two in so I had an extra minute to get the
results.”

“What results?” Adam asked.

“Ms. Stanton’s DNA scan from the front entrance swab.”

She frowned, trying to make sense of Shep’s words. Adam
didn’t look confused. He looked extremely pissed.

“It’s as I suspected from your reaction to her at
Christenson’s party…”

“Don’t say it,” Adam said. He hung his head in his hands as
though blocking sound could prevent whatever Shep was going to say next.

“She’s your match. Nine-point-seven on Rovinsky’s scale of
ten.”

Even through the door, Shep’s delight over the situation
penetrated.

“I didn’t agree, Shep. Let me the hell out of here.”

“After twenty-four hours. That’s policy.”

She shrank back against the couch as Adam flew to his feet
and flung a chair at the door. The chair didn’t stand a chance and clattered to
the carpet with a muffled bang, but the door remained shut.

“Deal with it, Adam,” Shep said. “Our tests have been wrong
before. If you keep your hands to yourself, you’ll be free to go. I’ll be back
later to check on you. Meanwhile, try to keep it relatively clean for the
cameras. Our scientists don’t want nightmares.”

Cameras? Loren’s gaze flew around the room, and sure enough,
an almost hidden camera pointed at a perfect angle to the couch. She ran to the
wall directly under the camera and sank to the floor, shaking. “Do you want to
tell me what’s happening here?”

Adam ignored her question and stood an inch away from the
door, hands clenched in fists at his sides. His eyes narrowed to slits when he
saw the water bottle in her hand. “Tell me you didn’t drink that.”

“I-I was thirsty. Was it not meant for me?”

He turned away, muttering curses.

“Adam!”

Slowly he turned back to face her and her stomach clenched
with a thrill of fear and desire. Last night’s civilized dancer in a tuxedo was
completely gone. In his place stood a snarling, angry, completely aroused
soldier.

She used the balls of her feet to scoot farther against the
wall and measured the distance between her current location and the bathroom
door. Her calculations proved unnecessary.

With an untranslatable growl, Adam flung himself into the
bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

She waited a minute then tapped on the door. “Um, Adam? Are
you okay?”

“The damn door doesn’t lock. Back. Away.”

Alrighty then. With him behind a closed door, the aching in
her lower belly subsided a degree. “Adam, will you tell me what’s going on?”
She bit her lip and fondled a stiff nipple through her blouse before
registering where her hands were. Adam needed to answer her questions, like
right now, because she had no idea why she was locked in this small conference
room with an angry, sexy man. “Adam, please.”

“You work for a newspaper. Don’t you read it?”

“Well, sure, but that doesn’t explain why we’re locked in
here together.”

“Think, Loren. What did the articles say about how the
Program gains new members?”

She racked her brain trying to remember. “Um, through birthing
a new generation, right? But…”

The door opened a crack and she could see his anguished
expression peeking through.

“Use your brain. Do I have to explain the birds and the
bees? You’re no virgin, are you?”

“I know how babies are made, Adam,” she said. “But the
article said you only breed with women who are your perfect genetic match…oh…”
Shep’s words came back in a flash. “They think
I’m
your genetic match?”

He gave a curt nod and started to close the door again. She
shoved her foot in to stop him. “How did they figure that out so quickly?”

“The cheek swab at the entry. I’m such an idiot. I should’ve
guessed last night.”

She pushed the door open to see him better and sat back on
her heels on the threshold between rooms. “How could you have guessed? It’s not
like I had my DNA code printed on my dress. How does it work, exactly?” Loren
asked.

“Not sure of all the scientific details, but I guess the
best way to describe it is like a numbers game. The doctors know there are
certain genetic combinations that will produce certain qualities. The Program
has a list of their top desired traits.”

“And how do they usually find a matching female? I assume
most are not so accommodating as to show up at the front door like I did.”

Adam turned at the sharp bite in her voice. “You’d be
surprised,” he muttered.

“Do they kidnap women off the streets and check their
blood?” she asked. “Or wait, let me guess, the Red Cross is actually a sham
organization front for you to use as a recruiting pool.”

He shifted at her guess, telling her she was somewhat
accurate.

“Oh my God. I’m right. I see you avoiding my gaze.”

“The Red Cross is an excellent organization doing important
work,” he said. “But, on occasion, we will pull samples from them or other
research sites to scan for appropriate genetic matches.”

“And then what? You kidnap them? Oh wait, you do that for
fun, like you did me.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him,
daring him to answer.

“No. We invite potential candidates in for a job interview.
Doctor, administrative assistant, teacher for the day care, accountant, you
name it.”

“And do you lock them all in a room with their potential
match?”

He flung her an exasperated look. “I don’t know all the
details. It’s not my department. I do know you should
not
have drunk the
water. I can’t
believe
you drank the fucking water. You’re feeling the
effects right now, aren’t you? Worse than last night.”

“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t I drink the water?
And what should I be feeling?” she asked nervously, but she had a very good
inkling as to what he referred.

“The ache. You were a homing beacon for me last night. I
could barely let you go.”

“I managed to leave,” she said.

He cocked his head at her. “Yeah, you did. How?”

He looked genuinely curious, but she couldn’t help noticing
his hand was directly over the formidable bulge in his pants, massaging
roughly. “You frightened me. I’d never felt that way with a man before,
even…even in bed with my last boyfriend.” She swallowed over the lump in her
throat her confession had formed.

“What about your current boyfriend? Does he heat you up?”

“Current boyfriend? I’m not— Oh. I, um, lied. I’m not dating
anyone.”

A flicker of a smile passed his lips so quickly she wasn’t
sure it had really happened.

“What about now? Are you feeling it now?” he asked.

She felt a blush creep from the top of her breasts up to the
roots of her hair, and she couldn’t look him in the eye as she nodded. “My
nipples are starting to hurt. Did drinking the water do that?”

He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he accepted her
confession matter-of-factly. “It’s one of the symptoms on the Rovinsky scale.
The water is laced with a drug that makes you more receptive to your match.
It’s going to make you crazed for the next twenty-four hours, and I’m going to
respond. If I weren’t your match, you wouldn’t feel as aroused. It’s how they
test the science behind the blood work.”