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
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