Desire Unmatched: 4 (Coded for Love) (2 page)

Loren’s chin practically hit the table. “Really? Maybe
you’re not a match after all.”

“No, we definitely are. The sex confirmed it for me.”

“But…”

“I know, you keep telling me finding your match is this
magical experience and the sex will rock my world. Well, it started off great.
The moment I’m near him, it’s like my whole body is more alive, know what I
mean?”

“Mmm-hmm. Go on.”

“I think he feels the same way. I can tell because…”

Loren held up a hand to stop her. “Please, stop there. I
don’t need to know.”

“Well, anyway, it was as if I pushed him to the breaking
point. I thought he was going to ravish me. Like in those romance novels. But
in the books, the sex is always mind-blowing. And this, well, wasn’t.”

“He was a bad lover?”

“He
wasn’t
a lover. He was done in about two seconds,
and then he literally ran out of the room, leaving me on my back, knees up by
my ears.”

“Oh my God. For real?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh my God,” Loren repeated. “What did you do? What are you
going to do?”

She shrugged. “What could I do? I got dressed and went on my
merry way. I refuse to run after him. I have a shred of pride left. He wronged
me. He’ll have to find me and apologize.”

“Oh, Em, I’m sorry.”

“You win some, you lose some.”

“Sweetie, don’t shrug it off like it doesn’t matter. I
wanted this for you. After your past few months, I wanted you to find the
happiness I have with Adam. And Xander always looks sad. I wanted him to find
some happiness too.”

“Now we know why he’s angry all the time. Because he’s the
worst lover of all time.” She tried to laugh it off, but her chest hurt every
time she remembered the look on Xander’s face when he backed out of the room.
And she hadn’t been imagining the tears brightening his eyes.

“Shit,” Loren said in a low voice. The sudden lack of color
in her cheeks told Emma someone had walked into the cafeteria and overheard
them. Only one person could make Loren go that white.

She turned and forced herself to speak even as her stomach
did an Olympic-worthy round-off back handspring. “Hi, Xander.”

He didn’t look at her or acknowledge her in any way. He
walked slowly and deliberately to the counter at one end of the cafeteria and
grabbed a banana from the perennial bowl of fresh fruit resting on top of the
glass shelf above the tray stack. Then he exited as quietly as he came.

“Bollocks! Tell me that did not happen,” she wailed and
buried her face in her arms on the table.

“It did,” Loren said grimly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see him
until it was too late.”

“He’s going to hate me now. Everything he thinks about me
being immature and too young for him will be cemented in his mind. Only a young
twat would go blathering to her girlfriend about her latest shag.”

“You weren’t blathering. You were confiding. And you’re not
a twat. I think I know what that means, you crazy Brit.” Loren’s teasing tone
cajoled her out of her utter despair, but under the light tone, she sounded
worried.

“I have to go find him and apologize.” She pushed back her
chair and prepared to stand, but Loren covered her hand with her own.

“Give him time. He’s got to be fuming right now. Let him
work out the first round of anger.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Not physically, no, but his words could cause serious
injury.”

“Probably true.” She settled back into the molded hard
plastic chair. “I’ll find him later.”

* * * * *

“Xander, can I talk to you?” Emma timidly entered the
state-of-the-art weight room. She hadn’t been to this part of the campus
before, but Loren told her Xander spent a lot of time here. Sure enough, there
he was, punching a small black leather bag in the corner until she was sure the
bag would snap off the hook.

He totally ignored her, as did the two other soldiers
lifting weights. She walked farther into the room, close enough to touch his
shoulder, but not close enough to be hit by a stray punch. She didn’t worry
Xander would actually hit her, but he was angry enough to want to, and she
didn’t need to put temptation in his path.

“Xander, please. Let me talk to you. I want to apologize.”
His rolling punches didn’t slow, but he gave her a sidelong glance.

“Nothing to talk about. We both fucked up.” He turned away.

“There’s a lot to talk about.”

Now he stopped and spun to face her. “No. There’s not.
Please leave.” His voice was cold enough to freeze the Nile.

“Not until we talk,” she insisted. Her stomach was starting
to hurt from her fear that she’d ruined this for good. He’d given her a chance
and she’d blown it by spilling secrets to Loren. The way she saw it, it was
partly his fault. She wouldn’t have had secrets if he hadn’t gone running away
the moment the sex was finished. His glare didn’t make this any easier.

She glanced at the other soldiers in the room. They were
exercising, very purposely not looking their way, but she could tell they were
straining to hear every word. Loren warned her that secrets were in short
supply on the Program campus and gossip was in high demand. She and Xander must
be viewed as heaven-sent for combining both secrets and gossip in spades. “You
won’t talk to me? Very well, I’ll talk to you.” She aimed a finger at him. “I
want to know why you ran out like your butt was on fire after we had sex.”

“You mean after I was the worst lover in the world?” Xander
asked in a low, harsh voice.

“You said it, not me.”

“You said it to Loren.”

“She’s my friend. I was confused and needed advice. That’s
what friends do, or have you never counted on a friend before?” She was
practically spitting in his face, that’s how close she’d stomped.

“No. I haven’t.” The expression on his face shuttered
closed, and something in her heart cracked at his wooden tone. Looking at him,
she suddenly knew without a doubt that Xander considered himself friendless. He
might count Adam and Gavin as colleagues, but something kept him from
internalizing them as friends. He kept up a barrier between anyone who wanted to
get close, and obviously, she was counted among the number of people trying to
get close who would fail. Or at least he would try to make her fail. She had to
be more determined than he. That was all.

Looking at the harsh planes of his handsome face made her
doubt her ability to get this man to open up. Thinking back on her limited
knowledge of him made her sure there was much more to him than met the eye.
She’d been tempted to romanticize him and think he was simply a hard-ass
soldier who put on a stoic mask but underneath lay a heart of gold. Bullshit.

Underneath his walls lay years of pain and God knew what
else. Looking up at his sweaty body, she was suddenly scared of what she might
find if she started crawling underneath the surface. She was twenty-four, for
crikey’s sake. She’d had her own drama to deal with. Xander’s might be too
much. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and wrapped her arms around her chest,
noticing the room was kept quite cold. “I’ll leave.”

She made it to the doorway before Xander caught up. “I’m
finally scaring you? Are you finally getting it?” he asked.

“I wish I knew what there was to get,” she told him,
blinking back tears. “You put on a front acting all macho and in control to the
rest of the world, but I think the real you is hiding. I think I saw the real
you for a few seconds, and it scared the shit out of you.”

His lips compressed, and he didn’t say a word. Okay then,
this thing between them wasn’t happening and the sooner she accepted it, the
sooner she could move on with her life, maybe even find a real man who wasn’t
too scared to be with her.

Xander stood in the doorway of the weight room and watched
her hurry off. It took everything in him not to chase after her. This was the
right thing. Emma needed more in her life than he had to give.

“Who’s that, son?”

His stomach muscles clenched as he slowly turned to the
older man who’d stepped up next to him. His parents lived off campus, but his
father came to visit frequently. “No one special, Dad.”

“Not your match? Pity. She’s a pretty young thing. Would be
nice to have a piece like that as your match.” His father slapped him on the
back and guffawed as if he’d said something funny.

“Yeah, it would be heaven to have a woman like that,” he
said quietly.

September

Emma carefully turned the steering wheel of her borrowed car
into the tight parking spot in the underground garage of the Program. A smile
spread across her face at yet another successful trip of driving on the wrong
side of the road. Why the Yanks assumed they had it correct because they
happened to drive on the
right
side of the road, she didn’t know. The
island nations of the world had it correct. Left side of the road driving with
wheel on the right was simply more comfortable.

She pulled the keys out of the ignition then swiveled to the
right to scoop her cardigan and bag full of textbooks off the passenger seat.
She opened the door to step out when a body stepped toward her, setting her
heart pounding. She instinctively scooted back, ready to lock herself in the
car and run over the mysterious person if he looked as if he’d been sent from
Paulson.

Rationally she knew the chances of Paulson getting to her on
the Program campus were nil, but it didn’t stop the heart-pounding fear or the
bead of sweat suddenly dampening the center clasp of her bra.

“Emma?” A woman’s voice.

Her heart slowed a fraction.

“Loren? Is that you?” She blinked in the dim garage lighting
and saw that the shadowy figure was only Loren.

“It’s me.” Loren stepped closer with arms hugged tight
around her torso.

“Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t need a close-up study of Loren’s unhappy visage
to know there was bad news. “What? What’s happened?” The car keys and book bag
hung limply in her hand as she stood and stepped to Loren, dreading the news.

“It’s Xander…he’s missing.”

Her left hand clutched at Loren’s upper arm. “What do you
mean? Where did he go? He wasn’t supposed to be on a mission this week, was
he?”

Loren slipped her hand in the crook of Emma’s elbow and
guided her out of the dank garage into the sunlight. An early autumn chill blew
around her and she shivered, but more out of fear than cold.

Emma hung on to Loren’s arm, appreciating the strength in
the taller woman. They hurried in silence to Emma’s small apartment in the main
building of the campus. As soon as she’d unlocked the door, Loren guided her to
the wood-framed futon that pulled out to become her bed at night.

They sat facing each other as her heart pounded and her
mouth lost all its moisture. Her school book bag lay in a heap at her feet, a
heavy textbook sliding onto the floor. “What happened, tell me quickly.”

Loren visibly swallowed. “Xander took Samara somewhere. It
was a mission-type thing. I don’t know much more than that. You know the
secrecy on this campus.” She rolled her eyes, but Emma didn’t have patience for
opinions. She needed facts.

“And…what happened? Something went wrong.”

Loren nodded. “Xander was supposed to be protecting Samara,
but it turns out he needed the protection. They don’t know anything except he
disappeared from where he was supposed to be and isn’t answering his cell
phone.”

“They’re sure it was foul play? He couldn’t have, you know,
gone to the loo or someplace?”

The look Loren threw her was pitying. “This is Xander we’re
talking about. He doesn’t mess up missions. Ever. If he didn’t show at the
planned meeting spot, it’s because he was physically prevented from being
there.”

Hearing the words didn’t help her emotional state. “Do they
think it was Paulson?”

“Yeah.”

The nausea boiled up like hot water in a whistling kettle.
Xander had been taken by the same evil that had held her captive for three
months.
Xander.
She had to do something. She couldn’t let her match go
through such torment. She didn’t realize she was standing until Loren rose next
to her and clasped her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Loren asked.

“To Shep. I’m going to help. Paulson’s last location was in
London. Who better to get him out than a Brit?”

Sympathy filled Loren’s eyes. “Trust me, I know how you’re
feeling. When Adam was captured, I took off to get him back without telling
Shep. It nearly got me and Adam killed.”

“Which is why I’ll tell Shep first. I won’t sneak away like
you did.”

“Emma,” Loren said slowly. “I’m totally on board with you
helping out on the team, but you need to think through the implications
carefully.”

Think? She couldn’t think right now. She needed action. She
needed Xander back here on campus even if he continued ignoring her.

“First, there’s evidence that Paulson is no longer in
London. He could be anywhere in the world. Second, are you prepared to possibly
be recaptured?”

Her knees gave out at Loren’s words, and she found herself
ass-planted on the strangely patterned colorful padding of the futon. “You
think they’d capture me again? They already have what they need from me,
right?”

Loren sank down next to her, leaning in. “At this point, we
don’t know anything. They thought Samara was the target, not a male soldier.
They were wrong. Obviously, we can’t make any assumptions.”

Emma curled her knees into her body, feet on the couch, with
her arms wrapped around her shins. All her rescue mojo had been quickly sucked
out by Loren’s statement that she could be captured again. The three months
she’d spent alone in a cell in Paulson’s fertility clinic had been the worst of
her life. To go from social butterfly among her university flat mates to
totally isolated had been more than she could stand. It had gotten so bad,
she’d even looked forward to the daily visits and medical injections from Paulson’s
hulking silent guards.

“Xander wouldn’t want you to risk getting captured again,
especially after he rescued you the first time.”

She snorted. “I barely know what Xander would or wouldn’t
want for me. He hasn’t spoken to me since we shagged. He’d probably like it if
I were captured and he were rescued. Then he could go back to his silent
existence and not worry about me getting in his way.”

“Don’t say that.” Loren’s hand tugged at hers. “He’d want
you safe. I don’t know why he’s opposed to matching with you, but he’d never
want you hurt.”

She uncurled her legs and stretched a little on the couch.
“No, I suppose you’re right.” She wasn’t being fair to Xander. For all his
silent and not-so-silent brooding, he’d never wished her harm. He simply wished
her away.

“What do you think I should do?” Her question to Loren
lurched like the flame of a candle in a breeze. “Should I go to Shep and offer
to help?”

Loren’s lips pursed as she pondered the question, and her
gaze scanned the small undecorated apartment. “I think you should go to Shep,”
she said at last. “But do it in private. We already know how Xander keeps
things close to the chest. He wouldn’t want everyone knowing you’re a match.
Keep it quiet.”

She thought about Loren’s advice then nodded. “Okay, I’ll go
see Shep. What if Shep doesn’t let me do anything? I’ll go mad.”

“No, you won’t,” Loren said. “You’ll take it day by day.
Keep yourself busy.”

“And do what? I’ll be too worried about Xander to
concentrate on anything.”

“What about your classes? Could you take more?”

She thought about it for a minute. “I guess I could enroll
in the university. Full-time. To get my degree. That would keep me busy. I’ll
go insane otherwise, but I might fail out if I’m always worried about Xander.”

Loren’s look oozed sympathy, almost too much to bear. “I
think that’s a good decision.”

Emma jumped off the couch, nearly tripping over her spilled
books at her feet. She didn’t know whether Loren had meant to imply in case
Xander was killed or in case he returned and still didn’t want her. Either case
was a worst-case scenario and didn’t bear contemplating.

“I’m going to Shep,” she said and marched out toward the
main office. The somber mood wallpapered the wide corridors of the Program’s
main office building where she was housed. The building also housed Commander
Shepard’s office along with some file storage rooms and the main conference
room. She followed the almost palpable trail of misery toward the large
conference room where she guessed loads of soldiers would be gathered, making
plans for a rescue mission.

Instead of the loud din of levity that normally wandered
through the halls, an eerie silence crept in front of her and she tiptoed
toward it, following the lack of noise. She gently pushed open the conference
room door to a sudden explosion of noise. Chase, the normally laid-back ladies’
man, was shouting at Samara Jones, who looked as shaken as if she’d been forced
to ride Space Mountain without the safety belt on.

Her eyes scanned the room for Shep, and not seeing him, she
backed silently out, unseen by anyone else as they were all absorbed in the
Chase-Samara drama unfolding center stage. She made her way to the office next
door and knocked, hoping Shep would be there. He was.

After hearing a verbal command to enter, she pushed her way
in and sank into one of the two seats Shep kept facing his large desk with its
neat stacks of papers and dusty computer. The cushions on the chairs
practically had indentations from all the butts of people coming to bother Shep
about one thing or another. As head of the Program, he rarely spent a minute
unbothered by someone’s questions or receiving orders.

“How can I help you, Emma?” His question was terse, but she
was getting used to his gruffness. He didn’t have time for platitudes.

“I heard about Xander.” She had to struggle to get his name
out over the lump in her throat.

Shep’s visage suddenly changed from helpful to completely
closed off. “What about him?”

“I…I think we’re a match, and I wanted to offer my
assistance if you needed it.” Her fingers clenched the worn cushion next to her
thigh as Shep’s expression underwent a confusing variety of changes.

“You think you’re Xander’s match?”

She nodded.

More silence.

“What makes you think that? Have you had sex?”

She nodded, knowing her face was now cherry red.

“How did I miss this?” Shep muttered. “Do you think you may
be pregnant?”

Yeah, flames on her cheeks as she shook her head.

“Why didn’t Xander claim you?” Shep’s forearms rested on his
desk, in a deceptively calm move, and when she saw how his knuckles were white
from his clenched fists, she freaked more.

“I don’t know.” Her answer was lower than a dog whistle’s
blast.

Shep raised a brow that had her squirming in her seat, but
she couldn’t answer. She honestly didn’t know why Xander had resisted their
matching.

Finally, Shep sat back and looked her in the eye. “I want
you to go to Doctor Wise. Get a work-up done. Wise will know what to. Other
than that, stay calm. We’re going to get Xander back, and when we do, we’ll
need you.”

“Okay,” she answered, feeling her stomach juices slosh
unpleasantly. What had she done? Xander had made it clear he didn’t want this
match. Didn’t want
her
, and she’d taken away his options. If he was
brought back alive to campus, no way would Shep allow him to reject her. So why
did that have her blinking back tears? Because she wanted to be wanted. Being
matched to someone forced into the relationship was a bloody nightmare.

* * * * *

Xander blearily cracked a swollen eyelid and examined his
new surroundings. Several hours ago, or had it been days, rough hands cracked
open the cargo container in which he’d been prisoner. The same rough hands had
hauled him out, making sure to jostle his bruised torso and bloodied head. He’d
passed out for the car ride, but not until he’d understood he’d be handcuffed
to the structural frame in the back of a cargo van. There’d been no seats and
no padding whatsoever as his hammered body had taken another licking on the
long, bumpy ride from the port to wherever he was now.

Filtered light poured in from a small rectangular window
located near the ceiling of the small, bare room. The only good thing about his
new circumstances was that he wasn’t handcuffed or bound. Either his captors
were secure that they’d already beat any fight out of him, or they were
isolated enough that escape wasn’t going to be an option.

He ignored the screaming pain in his muscles as he shuffled
over to the window and looked out. The top of his buzz cut nearly brushed the
water-stained plaster ceiling. He was in a basement of some sort. He couldn’t
see much out of the window. Two-inch-in-diameter bars were bolted vertically
across the window both on the outside and the inside. Looking out, he could
only see what looked like a concrete well of some sort. Angling his neck and
looking up, he saw busy feet marching by the window on a concrete sidewalk. The
passersby strolled without a clue they were being watched.

Straining his ears, he heard the buzz of city life. Voices
called out to others, truck horns blared and bells on store doors chimed. He
was in a city, but it wasn’t London. He’d count on that. Even if the tenor of
voices hadn’t sounded more raucous and guttural than clipped London, he’d wager
Paulson wasn’t stupid enough to be anywhere near the scene of his last crime.
Where the hell was he?

Using each of his senses, he moved through a global map in
his head, eliminating places and placing a mental pushpin on possible locales.
His skin was warm. It could be a fever from his body fighting infection. The
days lying in the dark in a pool of his own vomit hadn’t done much for his
immune system. Not to mention he had the beginnings of dehydration and
starvation. The meager offering of one water bottle and two protein bars kept
death at bay but not hunger and thirst.

First priority, gain his strength back, then escape. He knew
Gavin would have sounded the alarm the second he’d disappeared from the
restaurant parking lot where they were supposed to be guarding Doctor Jones.
Hah, some guards they were. He’d let himself get shot with a tranq and
kidnapped faster than his father could say
you suck
.