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going to die.”
    See who?
    He resisted the urge to eavesdrop and rapped lightly on the door. It wasn’t just the way Olivia flinched when she turned and saw him standing there, or the way she stiffened when he walked in, but it was the way her voice changed that gave him pause.
    “I have to go,” she said. “I’ll talk to you soon.” With that, she abruptly ended the call.
    They looked at each other for a moment. When it became clear that she wasn’t going to offer any information, he asked, “Who was that?”
    “Nobody.” She spit the word too fast, stood too quickly and crossed to the bed, aimlessly smoothing wrinkles from the comforter.
    “Nobody?” His tone was a little sharper than he’d intended, but something was up. She wasn’t talking to nobody. “It sounded like somebody to me.”
    She ducked her head, refusing to look him in the eye. He fought the urge to cross to her and take her face in his hands and force her to look at him. He’d never been a suspicious man, but then again, his wife had always been very open and sharing. They’dnever harbored secrets. This definitely smelled like a secret.
    He heaved an exasperated, full-body sigh that was laced with anger and resentment.
    She must have sensed his mood.
    “It was Paul.” Her words were flat with a terse edge. “He called to wish us a Merry Christmas.”
    “He called? I didn’t hear the phone ring.”
    She squinted at him, shooting poisonous darts with her eyes. “He and Ramona called earlier and left a message while we were at your mother’s house. I returned their call. Any other questions?”
    Yes, he had question, such as how she could be so light and giddy one moment and then turn so cold and guarded when he walked into the room. And who was this man she so desperately needed to see?
    Jamison knew his wife well enough to sense that something wasn’t quite right. Something that stretched beyond the baby issue. Something that she wasn’t telling him. Even though he might not get it out of her tonight, he’d find out eventually…one way or another.
     
    At seven o’clock the next morning, Olivia and Jamison sat at the dining room table eating poached eggs on whole wheat toast, which Olivia had prepared. A peace offering after the run-in last night. Actually, it was an olive branch after areunion that had more closely resembled a train wreck than the rekindling of the relationship they’d both wanted.
    She tried to keep her mood light. She shouldn’t have been so defensive last night, but she wasn’t sure how much he’d heard after surprising her while she was talking to Paul, who’d told her that Chance Demetrios was indeed in town this week. Jamison had walked in as Paul was explaining that Chance had planned to use the week while the institute was closed to catch up on some paperwork. Paul had promised to have Chance call her as soon as possible.
    Jamison was quietly subdued this morning, and as each minute passed without him asking questions or flat out telling her what he’d heard, she relaxed a little more, allowing herself to believe that her plan was still securely in place.
    She hated keeping secrets from him. Frankly, she wasn’t used to doing so and obviously wasn’t very good at it—as evidenced by her defensive display last night, when she was tired and emotionally drained.
    Now that she was rested, it was sinking in that Jamison’s having to return to Washington this morning might actually be a blessing in disguise. With her husband away, she wouldn’t have to lie to him about her decision to pursue the in vitro fertilization on her own.
    Rather than looking at it as a lie of omission, she chose to think of it in terms of asking for forgiveness later rather than asking for permission right now.
    “Breakfast was delicious, as always,” Jamison said after he swallowed the last bite. “I’ll try to get home by New Year’s Eve. I’ll call you tonight and let you know how things are shaping up.”
    Olivia