his tone mocked her “—no one outside this room has to know.”
“Chance Demetrios would know. Do you remember me telling you that we were just talking about how my biological cupboard is bare?”
Derek rolled his eyes.
“Wonder boy doesn’t know everything that goes on around this place. You have no idea the secrets we keep in here. There’s a whole section of classified files to which only a select few have access.”
His maniacal expression made her uncomfortable, and for a moment she wondered if he’d gone a little mad.
“If I tell Demetrios we have a special emergency stash of your eggs, he’ll believe me.”
Olivia was chewing on her fingernail again. “But why would you have a special emergency stash of my eggs? It doesn’t make sense.”
He looked at her as if she was insufferably dense. “Because, Olivia, you are likely going to be the first lady of our country, and that makes you pretty special. And if, perchance, there was an emergency—such as the one you find yourself in today—the eggs would be available to you. Understand?”
No, she didn’t understand, because what he was suggesting sounded reprehensible. She looked at him as if in his face she could find the piece of the puzzle she was obviously missing—something to help her understand how this devious scheme could be okay.
“You’re suggesting that I not include Jamison in this decision?”
Derek shrugged a single shoulder, as if he were too annoyed to expend the energy to raise and lower both.
“Go ahead and tell him if you think he’ll go for
it.”
Of course Jamison would never go along with this plan. She felt dishonest enough even being here behind her husband’s back. But even talking about getting impregnated with a child that wouldn’t be fully, biologically, theirs and trying to pass it off as theirs … This … if she did this … well, she wouldn’t be able to look her husband in the eye, much less live with herself.
She was just about ready to say Thanks, but no thanks when Derek said, “Livie, don’t look at me like I’m a monster. The only reason I’m suggesting this is because you desperately want a child and it could very well save your troubled marriage.”
His words hit like a painful punch to the gut.
“I know it’s a lot to think about, but keep an open mind. I’m going to go ahead and relabel the eggs—they’re all from the same woman and according to the file she even has your coloring—just in case your New Year’s Eve test results don’t come back the way you’d hoped.”
As much as she hated to admit it, Derek had a point. What if the test results proved that she’d waited too long? What if using donor eggs was her only option?
Jamison would never agree to it.
But she’d already come this far.
What if what Jamison didn’t know was the only thing that could save their marriage?
She certainly had a lot to think about before she dismissed this final option.
Chapter Six
Before heading off to dinner, Jamison excused himself from the delegation of Middle Eastern dignitaries and ducked inside his office to call Olivia.
After living apart for more than two months then seeing her for two days, he didn’t think he could go four more days without her.
He missed her that much.
So when the group started making noises about staying in D.C. through the New Year, Jamison had promptly told them he’d be happy to leave them in the capable hands of his aide, Cameron McInerney, but he wouldn’t be in town.
The dignitaries protested but Jamison simply joked that if he left his wife at home alone on New Year’s Eve he’d have to spend the rest of the year making it up to her.
When the visiting sheikh shared his philosophy that women should never dictate a man’s actions—especially when it interfered with business—Jamison retorted respectfully, “Obviously, you’ve never met my wife.”
And he meant it as a sincere compliment.
It wasn’t that Jamison was heading home out of obligation. Not this time. As he’d said goodbye to Olivia earlier in the week, something had shifted. Right now, he longed to see his wife. He longed to wipe the slate clean. Longed to start off the New Year right.
With Olivia in his arms.
Somewhere recently he’d heard the idiom “a happy wife makes for a happy life.” It made so much sense. If she was happy, he wouldn’t have to worry about her seeking comfort in another man’s arms. With Olivia as his top priority all his plans would fall into place: his congressional work, his eventual bid for the White House (because what would it mean without Olivia by his side?) and their family.
He’d been thinking and, depending on how things were between them this next week, maybe they should start trying again.
That’s why he needed to call her right now.
She answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Liv, it’s me.”
She paused a few beats too long.
“Jamison. Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Everything’s fine. I was thinking about you and wanted to call.”
“Oh, I see. That’s very sweet.”
She sounded a little distant and formal. He wanted so badly to pull her into his arms and show her that everything was going to be okay.
“I’m also calling for another reason,” he said.
“What?” She sounded wary. “You’re not calling to tell me you can’t make it home for New Year’s Eve, are you?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, eager to put her mind at rest. “Actually, I’m calling to find out what your plans are on New Year’s Eve.”
She was silent on the other end of the line, and for a moment, he wondered if they’d lost their telephone connection.
“Olivia, are you there?”
“Yes. I’m here.” She still sounded guarded and distant. “What do you mean?”
He sat down behind his desk and picked up a photo of her. The juxtaposition of seeing her beautiful face smiling at him from the frame and hearing her sound so remote on the line made his heart ache.
“I’m calling to ask you out on a date. This is my feeble attempt at being romantic.” He chuckled, then his voice got
