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You’re entitled to take a while.” She smiled, hoping to lighten the mood, but was met with another silence.
    “You’d want to keep the Sabbath and keep kosher, right? The works?” he finally asked.
    “My kitchen is kosher anyway, in case my parents visit.” It took so little effort and made them so happy. “And Sam says there are lots of good kosher restaurants in L.A.”
    “But they don’t serve lobster or oysters, do they?”
    She smiled again. “Not quite.” She’d never developed a fondness for shellfish or ham or cheeseburgers—she’d tasted guilt with every bite—and she didn’t think she’d
    mind giving up the convenience of eating in nonkosher restaurants. Then again, she hadn’t tried. “Keeping kosher isn’t all that difficult. Matt. Neither is keeping the Sabbath, once you’re used to it.” Was she trying to convince him or herself?
    “Maybe not for you, because you did it for so many years. Imagine if I said I.wanted us to be Buddhist or Mormon.” His eyes narrowed. “You think your parents will dislike me less if you go back to the fold—is that it? Or has Sam been doing a number on you because he’s Orthodox?”
    “Sam and I never discuss religion.” She pressed closer to him. “My parents don’t dislike you. Matt. Once they meet you, they’ll love you.” She nuzzled his cheek. “And they don’t know I’m thinking about becoming Orthodox again. I won’t tell them until I’m sure.” It would be cruel to raise their hopes. She hesitated, then told him about Naomi Hoffman. “I envy what she and her husband have. Matt. I can’t help wondering whether we could have the same thing.”
    “So I have her to thank for this, huh?” he said lightly.
    “I know I’m not being fair, throwing this at you.”
    “No, you’re not. But this isn’t about ‘fair,” is it?” He looked at her thoughtfully. “I can’t make any commitments, but I guess if it means a lot to you, I can go to a couple of these classes with you, see how I feel.”
    She should have been pleased with his response—it was a surprisingly promising beginning—but she wasn’t. The possibility that she wanted him to back out so she wouldn’t have to, that there was more to her mixed emotions than religion, startled her.
    He took her hand. “The most important thing is that we love each other. Lisa. Everything else will resolve itself.”
    That’s what Asher had said, too.
    Matthew kissed her. “Let’s go to bed,” he whispered.
    She wondered wryly how he would react if she told him Orthodoxy prohibited intimacy between unmarried people. She followed him to her bedroom, miserable because she was being less than honest about her doubts,
    and tried to lose herself in his lovemaking, which was tender and passionate, if a little more intense than usual.
    Afterward, he lay staring into the darkness, his interlaced fingers cupping his head.
    “Are you brooding about us or about the clinic?” she asked softly, smoothing his hair.
    He was silent for so long that she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he said, “In a matter of days the clinic could be ruined.”
    She felt a flutter of alarm. “The clinic has a spotless reputation, Matt, and an unbelievably terrific success rate. That’s why patients come to us from all over the world.”
    “One whiff of suspicion of wrongdoing, and they’ll stop coming and we can close the doors. And the board will blame me.”
    “Matt—”
    “I’m the head director. The buck stops with me.” He swung his legs off the bed and bent down to pick up his clothing.
    He was right, of course. She watched in silence as he dressed. “I wish I could help.”
    He sat down next to her. “You help just by being with me. Lisa. You’re the best thing in my life, don’t you know that?” He leaned over and kissed her. His lips lingered on hers.
    “So what are you going to do. Matt?”
    “I’m going to play detective. I don’t have much time.” He buttoned his shirt.