HeatedMatch (22 page)

“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.”

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.”

“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.

“Glad to hear you’re up and about again. Welcome to the UK,”
the border guard said as he stamped the passports and waved them through.

“Thank you,” Rowan said, releasing her hand to scoop up the
processed passports. As soon as they entered the crowd of people shuffling
toward baggage claim, Loren released her first full breath since the plane
touched down. They’d made it past the first hurdle. Now all they had to do was
rendezvous with Xander, find Adam, possibly fight their way free and escape
back to the US. Easy peasy, no problem.

“Want to share the joke?” Rowan asked. “I could use a
laugh.”

She shook her head. “Just borderline hysterics.”

“I hear you. I nearly bolted when that guard started
questioning my arm.”

“Really?” she asked. “You played it cool. I had no idea you
were nervous.”

“Didn’t you feel my hand? Coulda mopped a floor with it, I
was sweating bullets.”

“Well it didn’t show.” She stopped to scan the overhead
directional signs. “Come on. Taxi line’s this way.”

“Xander is meeting us?”

“Yes.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll text him now.” She
pulled out the international cell phone Chase had loaned her and sent Xander
the message that they had landed and would meet him in roughly an hour at the
hotel. She planned on trying to sleep, though the likelihood was slim. Tomorrow
they had their appointment at the fertility clinic where she hoped they’d find
Adam. How they’d do it, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t as if they could ask if the
clinic had kidnapped any six-foot soldiers recently. She hoped Xander had a
plan.