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over nine months before you were born.”

      “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen the so-called documentation.”

      She had the same stubborn streak the rest of her biological family shared, but he didn’t mention it. “I’ll have copies of it within the week.”

      “Why don’t you have them now?”

      “New Horizons was an unusual facility. They specialized in Mensa donors. Men with high—”

      “I know what Mensa is. Eggheads. You have to have a high IQ score.”

      “You were invited to join, weren’t you?”

      She tossed her head and flung her hair over one shoulder. “Who would want to hang out with a bunch of nerds?”

      He kept his smile to himself. His file on Madison told him a lot about her but there was nothing like an interview to reveal personality. She had attitude in spades, just like the rest of the bunch.

      “Don’t you want to know more about donor 8374?”

      “No. I don’t. There’s an explanation for this mistake. That donor is not my father.”

      “He was a medical student at Harvard when he sold his sperm. They paid a premium for donors who were extremely intelligent. Know what their next requirement was?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. She was gazing heavenward and he was damn sure she wasn’t praying. “Other than being Caucasian? Tall. Women seeking sperm donors want tall men. Tall, smart men.”

      He waited a beat to let that tidbit sink in, then added, “You’re a lot taller than either of your parents, aren’t you?”

      “So?” she shot back, her accusing gaze now directed right at him. “A lot of children are taller than their parents.” She studied him a moment as if he were some disgusting bug that had crawled out from under a garbage can. “If this donor lived in Boston, how did his…his sperm get down here? My parents met at Tulane and moved to Miami just after they were married. My father might have gone to Boston on business, but my mother never visited the city until I went to college.”

      He knew Madison had attended Massachusetts Institute of Technology as a National Science Foundation scholar and had been accepted to a master’s program. She’d dropped out and returned to Miami when her father had become ill with terminal pancreatic cancer. That’s when she’d met and married Aiden Larsen.

      “The clinic in Boston sold some of their inventory to New Horizons.”

      “Why would they do that?”

      “Profit. Do you know how much more valuable sperm is when it comes from Mensa donors with Harvard credentials?”

      “Don’t forget tall. Women want tall men.” She almost cracked a smile, surprising Paul and giving him a captivating glimpse of her disarming sense of humor.

      “Right. Tall, smart men with Harvard degrees made New Horizons a bundle. You see, in the Boston area, there are a lot of Ivy League schools, but down here that isn’t the case. New Horizons did a ton of advertising. Women flocked to their Miami clinic. There was a long, long waiting list.”

      “It isn’t around anymore?”

      “They went out of business in the mid-nineties.” He didn’t say they’d been sued for false advertising.

      “Why? From what I’ve read, using sperm donors is more popular than ever. Seems to me, smart, tall men with Ivy League degrees are still in demand.”

      Some people were book smart, but Madison Connelly was quick on the uptake. He decided now was the time to be honest with her. “The Boston sperm bank stopped using Mensa donors after coming under fire for being too elitist. New Horizons was forced to collect sperm locally. They concocted phony backgrounds to get higher prices for their services. Lawsuits followed and put them out of business.”

      “I don’t know why I asked. This has nothing to do with my parents.” She didn’t sound as sure of herself as she had a few minutes ago. “What do you want with me?”

      “You have a family who would like to meet you. A half brother and a half sister—”

      She jumped to her feet again. This time she didn’t utter a word as she stalked to the wall of glass where the sun had set in a burst of crimson and gold. “I don’t want to meet any of them under false pretenses. I know who my father is. Some photocopy from a clinic that went out of business for illegal practices doesn’t prove a thing.”

      She spun around to face him. “My mother is sailing in the South Pacific right now. It’s an extended honeymoon and an adventure she’s always wanted. She telephones me whenever she gets to a port.” She strode toward the door, covering the distance quickly with her showgirl legs, and flung it open. “I’ll call you if she says this is true.”

      Paul rose slowly. He already knew Madison’s mother was sailing around the world with her new husband, a man not much older than her daughter. It could be weeks before she surfaced.

      “I regret having to keep being the bearer of bad news. I know now is a terrible moment to tell you all this but I’m afraid we don’t have much time. This sperm donor needs a liver transplant or he’ll die.”

      Her flashing eyes telegraphed the anger she was barely keeping in check. “I knew there was a reason for your visit. That man doesn’t want to connect with his supposed long-lost children. He’s after an organ donor.”

      Paul couldn’t deny it. “True, but does the name Wyatt Holbrook mean anything to you?”

      He could see that it did. Wyatt was well-known in the Miami area for his philanthropic endeavors and his pharmaceutical company. Madison was too smart and too well-read not to recognize the name.

      “I’ve heard of him.” The hostility in her voice had dropped a notch. “He’s done a lot to help people in Miami.”

      “Yes. He funded the cancer wing at Miami General and he’s given generously to AIDS research projects locally and nationally.”

      “Fine. So he’s a generous man who’s helped people.” Hostility was still evident in her voice.

      “He’s the sperm donor I mentioned.” He refrained from referring to the man as her father. He could see how sensitive she was about the subject. “He has two children by his late wife but they can’t donate.”

      “Wait a second! Did you say liver transplant?” When Paul nodded, she rushed to add, “I was thinking kidney. I’ve read a little about liver transplants from live donors—”

      “It’s a relatively new procedure. A donor gives a lobe of the organ and over time it regenerates to almost full size again. The most successful transplants are between blood relatives.”

      “Isn’t it a risky procedure for the donor?”

      “There is some risk,” he hedged. “It’s major abdominal surgery, but there have been very few documented problems.”

      “It’s a lot to ask of anyone, much less a child he dug up just so he could find a suitable organ.”

      Paul stared at her hard, trying to determine which card to play. “If this were your father, wouldn’t you do anything you could to save him?”

      She shrugged, but he could see his words hit the mark. He pulled out all the stops. “This man isn’t just any ordinary human being who needs help. Wyatt Holbrook is in the process of setting up one of the largest research foundations in the country. The money he contributes will finance countless medical and scientific advances.”

      He watched these facts register on her pretty face and her composure cracked just a little. “I guess.”

      Paul pressed his advantage. “Isn’t he a man worth saving?”

      The words hung in the air, the echo of the truth suspended between them.

      She

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