“That time of year, I guess.”

Up to that point, they hadn’t broken eye contact. Now she did. She looked toward the window, where the louvered shutters let in only slivers of sunlight. “I asked you to meet me today so I could tell you in person.”

His stomach dropped. “You’re pregnant.”

She shook her head.

“No?” he asked, making sure.

“No.”

“I thought maybe you would be. We doubled the chances last time.”

Her eyes flicked back to him briefly, then away. “I’m not pregnant. But I…we, Foster and I, have decided to try A.I.”

His encounter with Rodarte, his meeting with the Vista boys, her call, the wild drive here, seeing her, all had combined to jumble his brain. Her words didn’t compute. He shook his head slightly. “Sorry?”

“Artificial insemination.”

“Oh. Right.” Again his stomach took a dive. “Instead of us-”

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

There was a significantly long pause before she continued. “We realize the financial implications that our decision will have on you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So we’d like for you to remain the donor.” Nervously she wet her lips. “If you’re willing, that is. And if you are, and the insemination is successful, the terms of the payout will stay the same.”

He searched her face, but she avoided looking directly at him. After a moment, he went over to the sofa, sat down on the edge of it, and stared into near space, thinking what a bitch of a day this was turning out to be.

She must have taken his silence for either reluctance or indecision. She said, “You don’t have to give me your answer today. You have time to think about it. I have to set up appointments with a specialist. I’m sure there will be tests. I think I have to go on supplemental hormones. So it could be a while before we needed you. Weeks, I would guess.”

He looked over at her.

“Once the procedure is scheduled,” she went on, sounding rushed, “I’ll contact you and we’ll work out a time and place for me to pick up the specimen. It’ll have to be retrieved on the actual day. I’ll give you as much notice as I can. A day, possibly two.”

“All right.”

“Between now and then, if you decide you don’t want to…to participate, we’ll pay you five hundred thousand anyway. For the times you’ve…for your trouble.”

“Generous of you.”

“Naturally, whether you opt to continue or cancel the arrangement here and now, it goes without saying that I expect the absolute confidentiality you agreed to.”

Finally, something he wanted to address. “You don’t want anybody to know about…” He tilted his head in the direction of the bedroom. “What happened in there last time.”

“About any of it, Mr. Burkett.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t, Mrs. Speakman.”

She drew herself up straight and retrieved her handbag from an armchair. “Well, I think that covers everything. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“There’s a double entendre if I ever heard one.” He’d spoken in a mutter, but intentionally loud enough for her to hear.

Ignoring the remark, she moved toward the door. “I have to go. I have a meeting in half an hour.”

“Liar.”

She came around quickly.

“You don’t have a meeting. You’re running off.” He left the sofa and started walking toward her. “You’re scared. You don’t trust yourself to be here. Did you confess to your husband that you really got into it last time?”

“What Foster and I talk about-”

“Is that why he changed his mind about our little arrangement?”

“He didn’t. I did.”

Up till then, he’d been growing steadily angrier. But that stopped it. This was her decision, not Speakman’s, and not one they’d reached as a couple. He said the first thing that popped into his mind, the first thing he wanted to know. “Why?”

“I can’t…” She faltered, then started again. “I can’t continue with you like this, that’s all. I agreed to it only because it was what Foster wanted. And I love him. I do. I love my husband.”

“All right.”

“That’s the only reason I consented to this.”

“So you said.”

“But I can’t be with you anymore.”

“I got that, too. And when it comes right down to it, that’s all you had to say. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

She looked at him strangely, then lowered her head. Neither of them moved. Seconds ticked by while he stared at the way her hair grew in a swirling pattern around the crown of her head. Finally he said, “When did you decide?”

“I knew when I left here last time that I wouldn’t come back. But I fretted over it, and didn’t tell Foster of my decision until two weeks ago.”

“Why didn’t you call to tell me then?”

“We decided to wait and see if I was pregnant before we told you. If I was, it would be a moot point. I thought the matter was settled.” The red top expanded with the deep breath she took, straining the white buttons. “But Foster has spent the past two weeks trying to change my mind.”

“He still wants his baby conceived the natural way.”

“Yes. He hasn’t really applied pressure, but he’s made his wishes known. He’s made it clear how disappointed he’ll be if we change course now. He’s used every tactic he knows to try to persuade me that we should continue as planned, at least through several more cycles.”

“Only he didn’t persuade you.”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you call and tell me the deal was off? Why are you here?”

“Because I let Foster think he finally wore me down.” Her gaze moved around the room, then came to rest for several seconds on the third button of his shirt before moving up to meet his eyes. “He kept after me until I agreed to meet you one last time. If I don’t conceive today, he said, he promised, he would never ask me to come here again and will agree to switching to a clinical method.”

Griff assimilated that. “One last time.”

“Yes.”

“Today.”

“Yes.”

“So he thinks we’re-”

“Yes.”

“But we’re not.”

“He’ll never know, will he? He’ll think this time had the same result as the previous three.”

“Only the two of us will know different.”

“Unless you tell him.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“I hate that word,” she said with obvious anguish. “I don’t like keeping secrets from my husband.”

She looked beyond him toward the hallway that led to the bedroom, and her gaze stayed fixed on it so long that Griff looked over his shoulder to see what could possibly be holding her attention. The hallway was empty. He thought she might be seeing into the bedroom, seeing them moving together, seeing herself coming. That would be a secret she would want to keep from her husband.

He came back around just as she looked up at him. Their gazes held for several long moments, then she gestured at the front door. “Well…”

“Your meeting.”

She gave a wan smile. “There’s no meeting.”

“I know.” He returned her smile, but he didn’t feel it.

She reached behind her back for the doorknob. “Don’t forget your jacket.”

“Right.”

“Be sure the door is securely closed so it will lock.”

“Of course.”

She pulled open the door, and they were struck with a blast of hot air. She said, “Depending on circumstances, this could be the last time I’ll see you.”

“Could be.”

She paused, then gave a self-conscious shrug. “I can’t think of anything to say that seems appropriate.”

“Small talk seems smaller.”

She smiled faintly at the reminder of her words to him the night they’d met.

“You don’t have to say anything, Laura.”

“Then…” She stuck out her right hand. “Good-bye.”

He took her hand. They looked down at their clasped hands, then at each other. She released his hand and his gaze simultaneously, and turned toward the open door.

But she did only that. Turned and stopped.

Griff hesitated only heartbeats before acting. He moved in close behind her, reached over her shoulder, put his hand flat against the door, and slowly pushed it shut.