Exorbitant fees? Amber’s hands clenched into fists in her lap. Play nice, she reminded herself. “You know, we thought the SDSA fees were too high. But when we checked with the Surrogate Solution, also here in San Diego, and with other clinics in California, the prices were average. The Dream Makers flyer claims your fees are tens of thousands of dollars less. How can you charge such low fees?”
Ms. Rodriguez stiffened and raised her chin. “I’m sure you can understand that I can’t give away our company’s business secrets. But let me assure you…”
Hmmm. She’s awful big on “assuring.”
“… the flyer information is one hundred percent true.”
“Do you have a price list for specific procedures?”
Ms. Rodriguez’s eyes narrowed, and she stared at her suspiciously. Did she suspect Amber was a spy from a competitor?
“Yes, Mrs. Moore, we have such a list. But we only disclose it when all prospective parents are present.”
Damn. “May I tour your facilities or meet some of your surrogate mothers?”
The woman huffed with exasperation. “Again, to avoid having to do those things twice, we must insist everyone be present.” She glanced down at a paper on the desk. “To get your file started, may I ask why you and your husband are interested in hiring a surrogate mother?”
Amber had heard the reason so many times from other couples, it rolled easily off her tongue. “We’ve been trying to get pregnant for years. All the tests prove fertility isn’t the problem. Something isn’t working though. Unfortunately, none of the doctors can figure out what or why.”
“I understand. The body can be so mysterious and uncooperative,” Ms. Rodriquez said as she wrote on the paper. “Thankfully, it’s now possible for an embryo from your egg and your husband’s sperm to grow to be your child in another womb. Nothing about your child changes just because it develops in someone else’s uterus. It’s like we perform… a miracle.” She raised tear-filled eyes to her customer.
Amber suspected they were fake. Well played, lady. But it’s modern medicine, not Dream Makers’ miracle that makes surrogacy possible.
“Yes, we’re aware no genetic changes transfer from the surrogate mother to the baby when my eggs are used. But the surrogate needs to be in good health to deliver a healthy baby.”
“Of course. To assure…”
Okay, back to assuring…
“… there are no problems, our mothers go through stringent medical examinations. The results are available for your review.”
“May I see a sample?”
Ms. Rodriguez raised her eyes heavenward as if asking for divine patience and then gave Amber a condescending smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until—”
“My husband’s here. I get it.” Amber exhaled frustration. Stay cool. She couldn’t blow this if she was going to have to return for more information. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to come back.” She stood up.
The woman actually looked relieved. “I’ll walk you out. You can schedule an appointment for you and your husband so we can answer all your questions.”
Once again, the staff they passed didn’t speak or make eye contact as Ms. Rodriguez escorted her through the hallways. The air didn’t resonate with the joy of newfound parenthood. Amber shuddered. The clinic had an odd, cold, tense atmosphere. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the vibes felt an awful lot like fear—an emotion she knew well.
Ms. Rodriguez guided her back to the receptionist’s window in the waiting room. “Daniela will help you. I hope to meet with you and your husband soon.” She stressed the last few words while she shook Amber’s hand.
“Thank you for your time,” she responded, reining in the temptation to roll her eyes.
The clinic phone rang as Amber turned to Daniela. “I’ll be right with you, Mrs. Moore.”
Trying not to eavesdrop, she scrutinized the messy office behind the receptionist. Large cabinets with open drawers and files sticking out at all angles lined one wall. Stacks of folders sat on an unoccupied desk and on the floor beside it. Office supplies were piled haphazardly on a small table in the far corner. A harried-looking man worked on a computer at another desk covered with paperwork.
The answer to her burning question about how Dream Makers could offer such low fees was probably somewhere in that room. Finding anything in all that clutter would be difficult, but if she could only get her hands on…
She was so engrossed in her observations and musings that she didn’t pay any attention to the couple coming out of the hallway and getting in line behind her.
Until the man spoke.
“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about. I like these prices much better,” he said and laughed.
The name to go with the obnoxious voice popped into Amber’s head: Joe Ranger, the husband who’d been so rude to Laura in the initial consult a week ago. From his comment, she surmised the Rangers wouldn’t be returning to SDSA. Another lost client. She sighed.
“Hey, lady, want some advice?”
Amber ignored him. Despite her disguise, she didn’t like the idea of being this close to someone who’d seen her at SDSA. Having her identity revealed would ruin all her plans. Hopefully, the jerk would get the message that she wasn’t interested in chatting.
No such luck.
After several seconds, he touched her arm and moved around her so she couldn’t avoid looking at him. Her heart rate picked up speed, and a knot tightened in her stomach. Oh God, please don’t recognize me.
“I’ll save ya some time with this process,” he persisted. “This place is the best. And don’t even bother going to the San Diego Surrogate Agency. It’s a rip-off.”
Despite her wariness, anger shot through Amber like adrenaline. Indignation swelled inside. “I’ve already visited them, and I thought their clinic was… awesome.”
“Guess you didn’t listen to their sales spiel. Their fees are way too high.”
“Joe,” his wife murmured, shuffling her feet.
“Maybe you haven’t done your homework, Mr. Ranger. SDSA’s fees are in line with industry averages.”
He cocked his head and frowned. “Have we met?”
Oh shit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She gulped. Twice. “No, I’m sure we haven’t.”
“How do you know my name then?” he asked.
“Joe, Mr. Juarez just said it when he told us good-bye.” Mrs. Ranger jerked her head toward the hallway door.
Amber swallowed a sigh of relief.
He shot his wife an annoyed glance and returned to peering at Amber intently, even leaning forward a little. “You seem kinda familiar.”
She shrugged and struggled not to gulp again. “I can’t imagine why.”
Her cheeks bright red, Mrs. Ranger tugged on his arm. “It’s her voice, Joe. She sounds like my cousin from Oklahoma. I bet she’s from the Midwest.”
Amber grabbed the lifeline and nodded frantically. “I sure am. Kansas, near Topeka.”
“See, Joe. Now leave the nice lady alone.”
Not waiting to find out if he would take his wife’s advice, Amber spun back to Daniela, who was still on the phone.
“I’ll call later to make an appointment,” she said and fled.
* * *
Around noon on Saturday, Ben still sat at his desk, struggling to write the reports on the two Friday night raids. He’d learned early in his career that being an FBI agent was often a 24/7 job, so he wasn’t surprised when his boss strolled up to his desk.
“No luck again last night?” Rex asked.
“Nope. Exactly the same as the others.”
Rex stroked his chin. “I heard from ICE and most of the local PDs late yesterday afternoon. They’re pulling out of the joint effort. They don’t have the manpower to devote to shutting down these whorehouses every night, and neither do we. It’s a losing battle. They were glad to help under the special circumstances, but they’re done.”
Ben stiffened. “What’re you s
aying?”
“No more raids, unless you get a specific lead. I think the five women have been shipped out of the area.”
He sighed. “They’ve sure as hell disappeared. This really sucks for Pedro and the other guys who turned themselves in to get our help.”
“Agreed. But they haven’t been able to provide any intel other than to identify the coyote. And we already knew about that bastard. It’d help if they could tell us where to find him.”
“Believe me, I’ve tried to jog their memories. Are they being deported?”
“I talked ICE into holding them for another week.” Rex shrugged. “For the express purpose of wringing more intel out of them.”
“You’re getting soft, Boss.”
Rex grunted. “Good thing you didn’t add ‘in your old age,’ or I’d have to kick your ass.”
“As I recall, last time we worked out together, I—”
“Leave it, Agent Alfren. Now get your butt home and take the rest of the day off.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. Forcing myself to finish the damn reports isn’t going to change the raids’ results. Must be doing it as punishment.”
Rex snorted. “Get outta here.”
Ben saluted.
As he called Amber on the drive home, a smile came to his face for the first time that day.
“Hi, Ben,” she answered unenthusiastically.
Were his 24/7 hours already taking their toll? Or had something happened after he spoke to her yesterday afternoon?
“You sound down. Did you get fired?”
“Thanks for helping me see things could be worse.” She chuckled. “No, I didn’t get fired. I just had a frustrating meeting with… someone this morning.”
“Want to talk about it over a picnic dinner at Tidelands Park?”
“Will there be wine?”
“Sorry, no alcohol allowed without a permit. We can have some at my place before we walk to the park and more when we come back.”
She hesitated.
“Or… not.” He grimaced. He must’ve tripped her self-defense wire again.
Chapter 10
When Amber looked into those incredible blue eyes on the other side of the peephole, her mood brightened. The weight of disappointment from the Dream Makers meeting lifted from her shoulders. The effect Special Agent Ben Alfren had on her was unsettling. Keep it real, she reminded herself. They were just casual friends, nothing emotional, definitely nothing serious. She put away the can of pepper spray and swung the door open.
Ben stood there in cargo shorts and a tight black T-shirt, which clung to his sculpted muscles. A dark scruff of whiskers covered his chiseled jaw and cheeks. His tousled hair beckoned her fingers to bury themselves in the thick strands. And of course, his keen, penetrating gaze seemed to take in everything about her, even seeing deep inside.
She gulped. Who was she kidding? For the first time in ages, a man was revving up her libido and tempting her to want more.
“Hey,” he said, raising the cooler in his hand. “You want to head over to the park now or have a drink first?”
“Let’s do wine here. Do you want merlot or chardonnay?”
“Merlot, thanks.”
He brushed past her as she stepped back, her nose catching a whiff of his musky cologne. After reengaging the three locks, she turned to find him studying her. Warmth crept up her cheeks.
“I really wish you’d talk to me about… that,” he said, nodding at the fortified door.
She shrugged. “No big deal. I’m a single woman. I live alone. I believe in being careful.”
His probing gaze evaluated her for several moments. It told her not to screw with him, that he knew there was more to it, but he’d let it go this time. “Right,” was all he said out loud.
Crap, he thinks I’m paranoid. But it’d be worse if he knew the truth.
She forced a bright, non-paranoid smile and headed to the kitchen. “It’s gorgeous outside. Wanna sit on the balcony?”
Five minutes later, they relaxed on the chaise lounges, sipping wine.
“Want to talk about your frustrating meeting?” Ben asked.
Do I? What did it matter? He’d probably never meet anyone from SDSA or Dream Makers, so what could it hurt to vent a little?
“Sure. Remember I mentioned I might get laid off?”
“Yeah. But you said you didn’t get fired.”
“True. However, I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out why our clinic is losing business.”
“I take it this loss of business is why your job is at risk.”
“Absolutely. We’ve had so many cancellations, the company is in a financial bind.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Me too, because SDSA is an awesome clinic.”
“Then why is it losing business?”
She sighed. “There’s a new company in town. It’s claiming to offer the same services for tens of thousands of dollars less.”
Ben whistled. “That’s a lot of money. How can they charge so much less?”
“Exactly what I asked myself.”
When she didn’t continue, he arched his eyebrows. “And the answer is…?”
She huffed. “I don’t know. I couldn’t get any information when I went to my appointment today.”
It took only a moment for Ben to put the pieces together. “You visited this new clinic as a prospective client. Incognito, I presume. Let me guess: short, curly, red hair and mirrored sunglasses.”
“No, actually, a brunette with hazel eyes, lots of makeup, and ugly black glasses.”
“How many disguises do you have?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I mix and match a lot. And I’m always buying new stuff. Anyway, how I looked isn’t the point.”
Ben gave her a grin that said they’d soon be revisiting the disguise issue just like the paranoia issue. “What is the point?”
“The woman who talked to me told me virtually nothing. She acted so secretive. I understand part of the reason was because my hu… um… significant other wasn’t there, and they can’t be bothered to go over the same information twice. My clinic, on the other hand, is happy to provide the information multiple times if the partners have to come in for separate appointments because of their busy schedules. It’s a huge decision, after all.”
“I can only imagine.”
“Ah, you sound like a confirmed bachelor.”
“Hardly. Just not ready for kids yet. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d like to have a wife first.” He took a long gulp of wine.
She rolled her eyes. “Geez, don’t get nervous.”
“I’m not. Tell me more about your meeting.”
Thoughtfully, she sipped the chardonnay. “It’s hard to describe. The place looked a little cheap, but that wasn’t what really bothered me. It was more how the place… felt.”
“Felt?”
“There was a weird vibe, almost like fear. But that can’t possibly be what it was.” She frowned. “The management could just be very strict about the rules.”
“Give me an example.”
She smiled. Ben seemed genuinely interested. And venting lightened the load. She had so few friends these days because of her nomadic and solitary lifestyle. Talking to someone who cared was a great relief.
“Okay. The receptionist seemed nervous that Ms. Rodriguez—the lady who met with me—was overhearing our conversation. And then, when we passed staff in the hallway, no one made eye contact or spoke to her.”
“Maybe she’s a hard-ass.”
Amber shrugged. “Yeah, could be. But there was another older woman scolding what appeared to be four potential surrogates. One of them was crying, and the others looked scared.”
“That sucks.”
“Usually, my clinic is bubbling with chatter and excitement. This place just felt… wrong.” She shuddered.
“C’mere.” Ben spread his legs wide on the lounge and patted the space between them.
; Amber pictured temptation flashing in neon lights above his head. She gulped. Oh, what the hell.
She climbed onto the chaise and scooted between his legs. He placed his hands on her shoulders and massaged her tight muscles. She moaned.
“Relax, babe. You have knots the size of golf balls.”
Warm, strong fingers kneaded the base of her neck and worked upward to her scalp, and then tunneled through her hair. Tingling shot from her head to her toes, igniting lust at the appropriate spots. Her nipples peaked against the silky fabric of her bra, and her thighs clenched together. Her breathing quickened along with her heart rate. Savoring the sensations, she let her head loll to the side.
Ben growled deep in his throat before placing his lips on the side of her neck. A gentle kiss sent more tingles through her. She started when he gave her a love bite and then soothed the spot with his tongue.
His hands left her head to slide across her ribs, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts.
“More,” she whispered.
Understanding what she wanted, he cupped both breasts, molding, caressing. She moaned her appreciation.
Pushing back against him, she discovered a rock-hard erection. She wiggled her tush. His hands dropped instantly to her hips.
Placing his lips next to her ear, he whispered, “If we don’t stop this second, we’ll never make it to the park for our picnic.”
“I’m okay with that.”
When he chuckled, warm breath fanned the side of her neck and the flames of her desire.
“Let’s take this inside before we draw an audience,” he said.
He grasped her hand and tugged her inside, but they didn’t go far before she was in his arms again, her breath being stolen by a bone-melting kiss. Without breaking the lip-lock, he hoisted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. As he carried her, she rode the ridge of his dick. He stopped abruptly in the living room.
“Babe, that feels great. But if you don’t quit it, our first time is going to be right here, right now, on the floor. And I really prefer first times to be slow and… meaningful.”
Is he for real? I didn’t think such a perfect non-creep existed.
“Just hurry. Please,” she pleaded, nuzzling his neck.
Hunted (FBI Heat Book 1) Page 8
