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Authors: Lynne Silver

BOOK: HeatedMatch
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He groaned when she demanded it just be about sex. “Loren.
Shut up and listen to me.” Adam stopped on the grassy hill and turned to face
her.

He acted angrier than Loren had ever seen him. Granted,
she’d only known him going on forty-eight hours now, but she could tell he was
upset. Well, bully for him, she was angry too. She stared, waiting for his
response.

“It can’t be just about the sex. If that’s all it was, I’d
take you back to that house to the bed and not let you go until I was done with
you, but that’s the problem. We’re never going to be done with each other.”

She swallowed.

“Our scientists have proven over and over again there’s more
to the genetic matching than simple chemistry. The longer we’re together, the
harder it will be to separate. We have to do it now before it gets too
difficult. If things were different, I wouldn’t fight it. But I have to, Loren.
I have to.”

He sounded…broken. She didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t ask why. Please.”

The emotion in his voice got to her. If he didn’t want her
to ask, she wouldn’t. At least not now, but she would find out. Eventually.
“Okay. I won’t ask, but I’m a pretty good listener and I will keep your
confidence. Always.”

He nodded and looked her hard in the eye, as if trying to
decide whether to share or not. Finally he shook his head and turned to walk
back up the hill. “Let’s go find Christenson’s kid.”

Chapter Seven

 

“Did you know Christenson and his wife went through several
IVF treatments to have the baby?” She looked up from the screen to survey Adam
huddled with Gavin, Chase and others. They were discussing what little
information they had from the police, while she had volunteered to research
everything about the couple. Perhaps they had an enemy with a motive.

Adam shrugged. “Do you think that’s important?”

She turned back to the screen. “No, but I find it
interesting they went all the way to London for a fertility clinic. Doesn’t the
DC metro area have perfectly adequate medical care?”

“It’s more interesting to us why someone took the kid at the
party. Why not at the house?” he asked, then turned away at Gavin’s shout.

“We got Christenson on the line.”

The men slid their chairs back so only Commander Shepard was
viewable by Christenson on the video chat. Loren crept closer to see but not
enough to be seen. The poor ambassador looked as if he’d aged twenty years in
the days since his son’s disappearance. Her heart ached for him.

“Commander Shepard, why are you bothering my family? Haven’t
you done enough?”

“Christenson, we’ve apologized already. Now let us help.”

“The FBI and a private investigator are joining the search.
Why should I trust your team when they let him get taken in the first place? I
should’ve known better than to hire killers as protection.”

Adam visibly winced and the muscle in Shepard’s jaw
tightened. He didn’t apologize again, though. “Christenson, the more people
looking, the faster your son will be found.”

At length, Christenson nodded. “Very well. I will have the
FBI send any information on leads your way.” The screen went gray.

Loren went back to her research, deciding to look into the
background of Christenson’s household employees. Surely the police had already
done so, but a fresh pair of eyes could help. But as she went to type a
different website into the search bar, something caught her attention toward
the bottom of the search results about the fertility clinic. She scrolled down
and clicked on the link to the article about another kidnapped child. This one
from Germany.

She read through the article quickly. “Adam,” she called and
waited for him to come closer. “Check this out.” She gestured to the screen and
reread the account of another missing baby, also taken just after his first
birthday. Adam read over her shoulder. “Guess what the connection is?” she
asked.

“The clinic?”

She nodded. “Both families went through in vitro
fertilization at the same place.”

“Gavin,” Adam said, “run a search for every kidnapping in
Europe for the last year.”

“On it.” Gavin turned to his computer.

Loren went to the website for the clinic located outside of
London and read the history of the clinic, client testimonials and marketing
claims. “Whoa. Fancy schmancy.”

“What is?” Adam leaned over her shoulder to read and
released a low whistle when he saw the average cost of using First Choice
Fertility. “You gotta be loaded or want a kid really, really badly to spend
that kind of dough.”

“Supposedly they have the highest successful birth rate of
any clinic in the world. Couples have to like those odds and,
hmmm
,” she
leaned in to read the rest, “they offer ‘genetic choice’.”

“What do they mean by that?” Adam asked.

“It means they let parents pick gender and eye color among
other things.”

“For real?” Adam leaned closer. “Does it work?”

She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “Helloo?
You
are a genetically enhanced human. Of course it works.”

He frowned. “The babies are perfect? Everything the parents
order?”

She shrugged. “I guess.” There was something odd in his
tone. She couldn’t figure it out and didn’t get a chance to ask him before
Gavin called to them.

“I ran the search, and guess what?”

“What?” Adam asked.

“Your girl’s a genius.”

Loren felt a blush heat her cheeks.

“I searched for all European kidnappings in the last
eighteen months and then cross-referenced children conceived at First Choice
Fertility.”

“And?” Loren leaned her elbows onto her thighs. They were
onto something. The tingling at the back of her neck told her.

“Christenson’s kid makes it the fourth abduction from the
clinic. You found the connection, Loren,” Gavin said. “All the previous
kidnappings took place in different countries, so none of the local authorities
made a connection or worked together.” At his words all other conversations in
the room stopped and then started up again as everyone gathered around the
large conference table in the center of the room. Shep started barking out
orders.

“Chase, you’re getting on a flight first thing tomorrow to
go to First Choice. Gavin, arrange transportation. Loren…” The room fell silent
and her stomach somersaulted as all eyes latched onto her. “Can you call the
parents of the other missing children, as well as the other families who used
the clinic if we get you a list?”

She nodded, stunned to be included.

“I know you’re a civilian, but this needs a woman’s touch.
Pretend you’re a mother interested in using the clinic. Can you do that?” Shep
asked, though it sounded more like an order.

She nodded again.

“Adam will be on the phone with you, playing the role of
doting dad-to-be.” Shep kept talking over Adam’s objection. His aversion to
parenthood was so strong, he couldn’t even
pretend
to co-parent with
her.

“Adam, relax,” she whispered.

He didn’t look at her and maintained a scowl for the rest of
Commander Shepard’s instructions. My goodness, the man had issues when it came
to babies and children. It was a good thing she had no immediate plans of
utilizing the genetic and strong sexual connection between them to start a
family with him. He obviously had to work through some things.

“Any questions?” Shep asked from one end of the room. The
only response was the beep of Adam’s phone. Shep frowned as Adam left the room
to answer it, but then gave a last order, “Get to it!”

* * * * *

Dear Billy,

 

Adam crawled into bed again with me last night. He used
to have nightmares regularly. They’ve slowed, but at least once a month he
comes screaming into my bed asking when his Da Da is coming home. I don’t have
the heart to tell him never.

 

Diane

 

“What?” Adam barked into his phone after checking his caller
ID and excusing himself from the room. “Rowan, whatever it is, I don’t have
time for it.”

“You never got time,” his wayward brother said. “You need to
quit that desk job of yours and come hang with your boys back home. You shoulda
been here last night. Man, oh man. The blunts was rolling and the ladies was
flowing, if you get me.”

He squeezed the phone hard.
Don’t hang up. He’s your
brother. You love him.
“Why are you calling, Rowan? What do you need?”

“Ouch, that hurts. Can’t your baby bro call to chat? I worry
about you. I ain’t heard from you in a few weeks. I worried that tie you wear
to work got wrapped around your thick neck and strangled you.”

“What do you need?” Adam asked again.

“Weeelll, now you mention it. Got in a little sticky
situation last night.”

Shit. If Rowan thought it was a little sticky, reality
dictated it would be a full-on glass of honey with a little Super Glue chaser.
Christ, you’d think a twenty-seven-year-old male would’ve learned by now. But
no, his brother continued to act half his age.

“What happened?” Adam asked, mentally bracing himself. The
timing sucked. Of all the days Rowan called needing a hand, this was a bad one.
He needed to be hunting for Christenson’s kid, not ditching work to head to
Shaw, a tough neighborhood in DC.

“Things at the party last night got a little heated. Words
were said, guns were drawn.”

“Tell me no one got killed,” he demanded. Crap. If it
weren’t for memories and promises to his mother, he’d abandon Rowan to sort out
his own shit, but those memories always dragged him back in as a savior.
Take
care of your baby brother. He needs you.
He released a sigh at Rowan’s next
words.

“No one got killed, man. We’re not sixteen-year-old gangstas
anymore. Didn’t you hear, we got gentrified? Even got our own Whole Foods now.”

“Get to the point, Ro,” Adam said.

“One of the ladies at the party was new to the city. She
freaked out and actually called the cops.”

He heard the disbelief in Rowan’s tone. Where they grew up,
police were the enemy. You did not call them for protection. Ever. He didn’t
even bother asking Rowan why they were packing heat if they weren’t a gang
anymore. Only an idiot didn’t carry if everyone else was.

“Rowan, is this your one phone call? Are you calling me from
jail?” Adam didn’t know what he’d do. He’d already pulled strings once to bust
him out.

“No, I’m not in jail, Adam.” His brother’s hurt seeped
through the phone. “I got taken in for questioning, because it was my house,
but they let me go. Chris got arrested though. I’m going to have to testify in
court, and I wanted your advice. You know, you’re the big shot lawyer and all
that.”

His stomach clenched in his knowledge that all lies come
back to bite you in the balls. Rowan was in the dark about many things. Mom,
Dad, Adam’s occupation, his own birth. One of these days Adam was going to have
to come clean. That day was arriving. Might, in fact, already be here.

“Rowan, you probably won’t need a lawyer. When is Chris’
trial?” He bit out the words, while every second away from work was gnawing at
his gut. He needed to be strategizing. Not helping his brother out of yet
another scrape.

“Don’t know. They said they’d contact me. A few months
maybe,” Rowan answered.

Relief swamped Adam. He had time before he had to confess
and introduce Rowan to a dad he never knew existed and his dad to a son he
thought was dead. “Rowan, stay home. I will come by in a few days. A week at
the most,” he reassured his baby brother.

Rowan sighed, probably sure he was being blown off, but
finally said goodbye.

Adam took a calming breath before heading back in to play
daddy with Loren. He tried not to think about her hurt and confusion every time
he rejected her. If things were different, he’d sign up for the breeding
program with a permanent marker. Loren only made the temptation even stronger.
He pictured her warm smile and how she’d looked sputtering up from the pool
last night with water streaming from her curls. He’d laughed more with her in
the past forty-eight hours than he had in the last year. Hell, he wanted her
more than he’d ever wanted another woman. Period. Too bad he couldn’t keep her.

 

Three days later

 

The shouts of teenagers running and kicking a soccer ball
penetrated the thin glass windows of her temporary home. Shouts of laughter and
good-natured taunts followed even louder. After a few days on the compound
Loren recognized some of the voices and smiled. She lay on her bed, researching
some facts about the fertility clinic, hoping Chase would return from London
soon and add more information. Every hour Christenson’s son was missing was
another hour of heartbreak for the family.

One mouse click switched her screen over from the internet
to word processer where she had a few rough notes and records of conversations
with other parents of missing children along with the beginnings of an article
about the kidnapping and the fertility clinic. She hadn’t mentioned the latter
project to Shep and Adam. She knew they’d put the kibosh on it.

Every moment Adam left her alone she snatched the
opportunity to plug away at her article. Guilt gnawed at her, but she wasn’t
ready to give up her career goal of earning a lead byline in the paper. She was
a journalist first and foremost. It was their problem for trusting her not to
report on her groundbreaking findings. A few more keystrokes and she hit save.

Loren slid the laptop back into her bag and stretched out on
the bed. It was starting to feel like home in a strange summer-camp kind of
way. That is, if she were the only female in an all-male camp. Oh there were
other women, but they were the married spouses and tended not to hang around
the bachelor soldiers much. She’d seen them in passing, but they ate in their
own homes and not in the cafeteria where she’d been taking her meals.

Speaking of which, her stomach growled. She hoped Adam got
back soon. He’d left her half an hour ago, promising to be back in ten minutes.
Something about a mission gone wrong. She hoped everything was okay.

She’d enjoyed working with Adam. He’d proven to be an
excellent work partner. As long as she ignored her need to jump her colleague’s
bones every minute of the day. But so far, nothing had happened. They’d both
managed to keep their hands to themselves and restricted themselves to heated
glances and tiny sighs of frustration.

Her stomach growled again, and she got off the bed in her
temporary room. Something had to be wrong, since she’d learned Adam was
punctual to a fault. She’d have to go for food herself. She needed some chow.
Now. She opened the door and headed down the porch steps to exit the building
for the dining hall. She walked along the gravel paths, enjoying the surprising
summer breeze that had swept in last night. It carried a subtle hint of fall in
the air, her favorite season.

Halfway to the dining room, a hand landed on her shoulder,
nearly giving her a heart attack. She whirled around to see who it was,
surprised she hadn’t heard any footsteps crunching on the gravel path. A middle-aged,
portly man stood off the path on the grass, which explained his stealthy
approach. He was a friend of Adam’s dad. What was his name?
Keen
?
Keel
?
That sounded right.

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