The Family They Chose / Private Partners: The Family They Chose / Private Partners

His mouth tasted of grapefruit juice and coffee and that indefinable flavor that was uniquely him—something for which, she realized suddenly and desperately, she’d been hungering—no, starving—for far too long. She didn’t want him to stop. So she slid her arms around his neck and opened her mouth, deepening the kiss, and fisting her hands into his shirt, pulling their bodies closer.

Maybe he’d changed his mind and would stay with her in Boston rather than going back to D.C. The thought made her heart pound. On one level, she relished the feeling of being alive again, having her husband touch her and respond to her touching him back. Yet on a deeper plane, she sought refuge in the shelter of his arms, their kisses healing the hurt they’d both suffered during their time apart.

At that moment, she knew that they would be okay. They had to be. Because there was no alternative. Plain and simple, she simply couldn’t imagine life without him. She intended to tell him so by leading him up to the bedroom, but the ringing phone preempted her physical love note.

“That’s probably the driver,” Jamison whispered. “Wow, he’s early.” He kissed her again, trailing his lips down her neck, but even that didn’t stop the incessant ringing. Finally, holding her, his forehead pressed against hers, he sighed. “I hate it that I have to go. I’m sorry. It’s not what I planned.” He gathered her hands in his. “Would you mind answering and telling him I’ll be right out?”

Olivia answered the phone on the fourth ring, just before it switched over to the answering service.

“Hello?”

“Good morning,” said a deep male voice. “May I speak to Olivia, please?”

“This is she.”

“It’s Chance Demetrios. Your brother, Paul, asked me to call you this morning about setting up another appointment.”

Olivia’s heart slammed against her breastbone.

She glanced toward the kitchen door for signs of Jamison, then lowered her voice and started walking toward the office where she could close the door and not risk her husband overhearing. “Thank you for calling, Dr. Demetrios, especially since the institute is closed for the holidays.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m working through the holiday. I noticed that your file indicates that we called and ultimately sent you a letter several months ago asking you to come in for further tests. Did you receive that letter?”

Olivia swallowed a twinge of guilt. “Yes, Dr. Demetrios, I did. For a while, we were thinking of delaying starting our family, but that’s no longer the case. We’re ready to move ahead.”

“Wonderful,” said Demetrios. “If you’re available, I can see you tomorrow.”

“That would be lovely. I must apologize for not following up sooner.”

“Well, I was reviewing your file a moment ago and I think I may have some new insight to what is causing your problems.”

Olivia’s heart leaped. “Does that mean you know how to fix what’s wrong with me?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Olivia couldn’t tell if that meant the doctor had good news or bad.

“We’ll need to run some more tests, but we can do that and talk about it tomorrow when you come in.”

After wheeling his bag into the living room, Jamison came back into the kitchen to kiss his wife goodbye. She wasn’t there.

“Olivia,” he called. “I have to go, the car’s waiting.”

No answer.

He fought back a surge of impatience. Calm down. Things had finally started getting back on track. He didn’t want to ruin it now. But where had she disappeared to, knowing that he had to leave?

Rather than stew over it, Jamison decided to signal to the driver that he’d be out in a moment. Maybe by that time Olivia would reappear.

Yet when he opened the front door and looked out into the impossibly sunny cold morning to busy Commonwealth Avenue, the car wasn’t there. Perplexed, he stepped back inside and closed the door. Then, as if driven by a sixth sense, he followed his intuition down the hall to the study. He stopped outside the door when he heard Olivia talking in hushed tones.

“That sounds absolutely perfect,” she said. “But may I call you back? I can’t really talk right now.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang. The car, no doubt. Jamison walked soundlessly down the hall so that Olivia wouldn’t see him and ducked back into the living room.

When she finally joined him a moment later, he patted his pockets. “I think I forgot something. Would you tell the driver I’ll be right out?”

“Sure.”

Jamison went into the spare bedroom where he’d spent the past two nights, picked up the phone extension, and pressed the record for the caller ID log.

The name that appeared was Chance Demetrios. The doctor that she’d seen only once—or at least only one time that he was aware of.

All sorts of questions raced through his mind: Why was he calling her now? Was this the man who, last night, she’d sounded so anxious to see?

Feeling threatened on a number of levels, when he got to the front door, Jamison pulled Olivia into a tight embrace—and again he kissed her as if he really meant it.

So what if he was being territorial. He had good reason. He loved her and he couldn’t stand the thought of her keeping secrets from him or worse yet, turning to another man when she should be confiding in him. He’d given her too much space. Been too busy. Too wrapped up in work, his thoughts focused firmly on the future presidential election. Even so, he still hoped she’d turn to him before she ran to someone else. Even if the man was her doctor.

It was a shame it took something like this to remind him that they belonged together.

His lips found her earlobe, her jaw, her neck and he trailed possessive kisses down to her collarbone. He knew he had to stop. The driver was waiting and if he didn’t stop now, he’d sweep his wife up in his arms and take her upstairs to their bed and prove exactly how much he loved her, like he should’ve done the minute he got home on Christmas Eve.

“Jamison, you’d better go,” she said breathlessly, breaking the contact.

She slid her hands from his shoulders down his arms and took his hands in hers.

There they stood, face-to-face, eye-to-eye—and the words just slipped out.

“Who was on the phone?”

Just like that, her face shuttered again, closing him out. Her eyes held the mysterious darkness of kept secrets.

“No one.” She stepped away from him, opened the front door. The cold winter wind blew in, cutting him down to the core of his body.

“Well, I heard the phone ring and it wasn’t the driver. Was it a wrong number? Your sister? The Salvation Army?”

She looked at him as if he was crazy. For a desperate, furious moment he felt he was stark, raving mad.

“None of the above,” she insisted. “You’re going to miss your flight if you don’t go.”

He looked at her closely. “You’re keeping something from me.”

“No, I’m not.”

The protest came a little too quickly and fervently. The shuttered look on her face made it difficult for him to read her. That’s why he was so taken aback when she reached up and cupped his jaw in her hand.

“I love you, Jamison. You just have to trust me, okay?”

Trust her? When she’s obviously keeping something from me?Even so—