05 Desperate Match (3 page)

Good point.

“Go meet her,” his dad said.

“Okay. I’m off.” He stepped away from the three older people toward the small room he knew was used as one of the testing labs. For all his big words to Shep about wanting a match, he was crazy nervous and excited at the same time. If the mystery woman behind door number one was his match for real, he’d feel a connection to this woman. Something that hadn’t happened since ninth grade when he’d lost his virginity to Dafnee White. He’d had a lot of women since then but never been in love as he’d been at age fourteen.

He stared at the closed door for a long minute, then knocked. No answer. He knocked again and faintly heard a woman’s voice invite him in. He pushed open the door, holding his breath for his first view of his potential match.

His stomach sank and he nearly walked out of the room. The woman he was supposed to feel a connection with was nothing more than a slip of a pale woman with hair that needed a cut and good brushing. Her skin looked as if it hadn’t seen the sun in years. And her clothes did nothing for her figure. If she had a woman’s figure. From his view, she looked like a twelve–year–old boy. Only the lank hair halfway down her back gave her gender away.

The worst part was he could’ve overlooked her less than stellar looks. It was superficial shit anyway. If this woman had the DNA connection with him, he knew he’d desire her. No, the worst part was he couldn’t overlook the expression on her face when she’d seen his missing right arm. She hid the disgust quickly; he’d give her that, but he’d lived with his disability for thirty years. He’d gotten pretty good at reading the looks. His missing arm freaked the woman out.

He would’ve backed out of the room and gone to Shep to say it was a no go, except the woman rose and reached to shake his left hand before he could escape the tiny room. “Hi, I’m Jill.”

Her icy hand slipped into his larger one, and he found himself shaking it and not wanting to let it go. Her eyes were an interesting shade of green, and her voice had a hint of an accent he didn’t recognize. “Hi, Jill. I’m Rowan.”

“Nice to meet you.” Her hand was still in his and he let her pull it free. They stood in awkward silence for a moment.

“So, ah, what do we do now?” she finally asked.

“I don’t know. Get naked?”

No laughter from her at his joke. Instead her eyes widened and trembling hands reached up to start to unbutton the thin threadbare sweater she wore. He reached out a hand and she jumped back.

“Jill. I was joking. Keep your clothes on.”

Her hands froze in place on the second button down. “Oh.” Long silence. “Oh.” She gave a small smile. “I’m sorry. I’m very nervous.”

“Me, too,” he confessed. “Sorry for my crude joke. I joke around a lot; you’ll learn that once you get to know me.” His words were a reminder that there might be a future between them. Instead of relaxing them, it amped the tension. “Should we sit? Talk, get to know each other?”

“Okay,” she said quietly and backed away to the corner of the couch putting up an invisible line that clearly said “come no closer.”

He opted for the lone chair in the room and tried to make her more comfortable by scooting the chair back. When they were settled, he dug in his head for some conversation topics to put her at ease. “So where you from, Jill? Do I hear a little southern in your accent?” Bad question. What should’ve been a softball to hit had her looking panicked.

“Um, yeah. I’m from southern Virginia. A real small town outside Farmville. ‘Bout three hours, depending on traffic.”

“Or on foot.”

“Pardon?” She looked at him curiously.

“My commander said you got here on foot. No car. What’s up with that?” He looked down at her feet covered in old sneakers, not really meant for trekking through the cold.

“I have a car. I didn’t park it here though.” She didn’t offer any more information and though he thought it odd she’d driven but parked off campus and walked, he let the subject die. Jill seemed skittish, and he thought she might bolt if he questioned her too hard. She didn’t seem inclined to ask him any questions, so he carried the conversation solo. “Never been to southern Virginia. Would’ve said Farmville was a made up place on a computer game. Guess I’m wrong. I’m from here, by the way.”

She gave him a strange look, and he chuckled. “Oh, right. Of course I’m from here. But I meant I was born here, but I grew up in DC waaay inside the Beltway, if you know what I mean.” He could see by her face that she didn’t. “I just moved back here a few months ago. Long story.”

Another uncomfortable silence. He didn’t know why he was giving this another second of his time. He and this Jill woman were never going to work, but something made him press on. “What about you? Have you always lived in your town?”

She nodded.

“What about for college? Did you get out for that?”

“I…never went to college.” Her pale cheeks pinkened and he could see a hint of what she’d look like with a little makeup and a real hairstyle. Not as mousy as he’d first assessed.

“Me neither. Not much for higher education.” Instead of relaxing her that he hadn’t gone to college either, she looked upset.

“Ever travel? I took my first airplane ride a little while back. Went to London. I didn’t get to see much of it though. Another long story.”

She didn’t respond with body language or verbal language.

Finally he stood. “Look, Jill, this has been nice getting to know you, but I think we’re wasting our time. It’s clear I make you uncomfortable, so I’ll let you leave without forcing the issue.” He turned to go, telling himself not to let the disappointment crush him. Jill was only the first attempt. There’d be others. “Bye.”

“Wait,” she said, and it was a cry so desperate it had him spinning back around. “Don’t go. I’ll do better.”

He spun slowly back to face her. “It’s not a test. Well, it is, but it’s not one we control. Either we feel something or we don’t.”

“And you don’t,” she said in a quiet tone he had to strain to hear.

“I didn’t say that.
You
feel something, but it’s obvious it’s the opposite of what you should be feeling, which is turned on.”

“That’s not true. I think you’re a very handsome man.” She started to unbutton the cardigan again, and he found himself helpless to stop her.

She stripped off the cardigan, which was a shade between brown and vomit, revealing a thin pale pink T–shirt underneath. Thin enough he could see she wore no bra.

“What are you doing, Jill?” He finally found his voice.

“I did a little reading about this place,” she said. “Sex is the true test, right? We’ll know if we’re a match if we have sex.”

Rowan glanced to the small table next to the couch. In addition to the table lamp, two unlabeled bottles of water sat there sweating. The drug–laced water. He’d heard enough details of Adam and Loren’s matching to know he wanted no part of the drugged water. If he were to find his true match, both parties had to do it with their free will and with all their faculties intact. Sleeping with a woman drugged to desire him wasn’t in his game plan.

“Rowan, we should have sex.” Jill pulled the T–shirt over her head, revealing a nice handful of breasts with nipples so pretty, pink, and pale. She took a step toward him and got to work on the button of his jeans. She didn’t have to fumble with a belt since he rarely wore one. Buckling one–handed wasn’t a party. His body didn’t suffer the confusion his brain was fighting and responded to Jill’s overtures.

A faint smile appeared on her face and she stroked a trembling pale hand over his denim–covered erection. “See, you do want me,” she said. Well, duh. Half–naked woman touching his dick? He didn’t know a straight man who wouldn’t respond.

She tugged his jeans down, taking his boxers with them and got on her knees. He stood there like a dumbass watching this strange woman kneel and start to stroke his penis. It felt good, too damn good. He needed to make her stop. He remained silent.

After a few amazing moments, he realized this was all about him. He’d never been a selfish lover before. He knelt to hold Jill and maybe do a little reciprocating. “Hey Jill,” he said softly. “Should we move this to the couch?”

She flinched the second his palm flattened on her bare arm. Goosebumps dotted her skin despite the heat in the room. “Jill?”

“I’m fine. Stand back up. I’ll finish this. I can do this.” She sounded as if she were convincing herself of her ability to touch him sexually. Now he was the one feeling icy. He stood and yanked his pants on.

“Rowan? What’s wrong? Didn’t you like what I was doing?”

He glared down at her, still fumbling with his jean’s button. Damn it. Buttoning things one–handed was never a problem except of course now with a woman watching him. “I liked it fine, Jill. The problem was
you
didn’t.” There. Jeans closed.

“What do you mean?” Her arms crossed over her bare breasts.

“I mean you flinched when I touched you. I know my missing arm bothers you, and don’t lie about it. I’ve had a lifetime of experience gauging people’s reactions to my arm.”

There was silence in the room as they stared at each other. “You want the truth, Rowan?” she asked.

“Baby, I live for truth.”

“I think you’re a very good–looking man, but yes, your missing arm bothers me.”

He stared at her. “Fuck. You.” He turned to leave with every intention of finding Shep and Doctor Wise to tell them to get Jill the hell off campus. As his hand reached the doorknob he turned to apologize for cursing at her or maybe curse some more. He didn’t know. But Jill had turned her back and was bent over hunting for her discarded T–shirt, and it gave him a good view of a dark purple bruise on her back roughly over her kidneys.

“What the fuck?” He reclosed the door and spun back into the room. He stalked over to Jill and tugged the pink T–shirt out of her hands. “What the hell happened to you?” He turned her gently in his arm and touched the bruise with one fingertip.

“Nothing. Give me my shirt.” Her nails dug into the skin on his forearm as she tried to grab back her shirt. He tried to hand it to her, frowning at the unexpected turn this meeting had taken, but she’d already given up on the T–shirt and turned for her sweater.

“Tell me what’s really going on here.”

She shoved. “No. I’m leaving. You’ll get your wish. You don’t ever have to see me again.” She withdrew back into herself, grabbing her cardigan and putting the itchy–looking thing on over her bare skin. Ashamed, he handed her the shirt and she shoved it in her over–stuffed backpack on the floor near the side table.

“Jill,” he tried again. “Something’s going on. Maybe we’re not a match, but it seems like you might need a friend.” She didn’t respond and hefted the heavy backpack over one shoulder. She didn’t try to hide the wince as the bag landed hard against her back. She stepped toward the door, but he backed up faster, blocking it.

“Rowan, move.”

“No.”

She pushed at him and then backpedaled several steps as if shocked she’d dared manhandle someone several inches and pounds larger than her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you.” She wouldn’t look him in the eye. He hated scaring her like this, because it was suddenly obvious Jill had too much experience with a man pushing her around. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let her leave without offering to help.

Jill stood outside of striking range from the tall soldier looming over her. Though if he were going to retaliate, she’d have nowhere to go in this tiny room. She could tell he was fast. He’d catch her if she tried to blow past him and out the door, out of the compound and back to the car she’d left by the side of the road three miles away when it had run out of gas. Her panties held fifty precious dollars in a Ziploc on her right butt cheek. It was uncomfortable as hell, but she hadn’t known if they’d allow her to keep her backpack full of clothes when she came onto The Program campus.

It was everything she had in the world.

“Jill,” Rowan said, trying to get her to talk to him. There was no point. He was correct; nothing good was going to come of this meeting. She was such a fool. She’d bet the farm on finding her safety net at The Program and now her net had snapped. She didn’t know where to go or what to do next. “Jill, are you in trouble?”

If his voice hadn’t been so kind, maybe she could’ve ignored his question. She could scream for help, march out of the campus and keep marching. Food, shelter, money—all those petty problems—could be dealt with later. But Rowan’s voice was kind, sympathetic. Even with his disabled body, he looked strong and capable, and his face was handsomer than any other man she’d ever met.

She stumbled backward onto the couch and curled up with her arms wrapped around her legs. She was so screwed. By now, Jack would know the car was missing, and he’d guess that she’d tried to run away. Either she was in for the beating of her life, or she’d have to find a safe haven with the clothes on her back and fifty dollars in a plastic baggie.

Rowan pulled up the chair and straddled it close enough so they could whisper to each other, but not enough that she felt threatened. “Jill, who hit you?” he asked.

She rested her chin on her knees and looked him in the eye. “My husband,” she whispered.

Silence.

“You’re married?”

She nodded.

“You applied to The Program to be matched to a soldier even though you’re married?”

She forced herself to nod again, knowing and hating what kind of person her admission made her.

Rowan surprised her when he pursed his lips. “Must be pretty desperate, huh?”

A half–sob, half–laugh forced its way out of her mouth. “Yeah. You could say that.” She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve, then noted the box of tissues on the little table next to her. She grabbed up a handful. “You must think I’m a horrible person. I mean, what kind of woman tries to”—she fluttered a hand at him—“have sex with a stranger when she’s already legally married?”

“A woman who thought she had no other option,” he said.

The dam on her sobs broke, and for long minutes she huddled on the couch crying six years’ worth of pain. Rowan let her. At some point, he moved next to her on the couch, rubbing her back and handing her fresh tissues when he deemed it necessary.