Oh, the good doctor knew all about Elizabeth’s physical health. He knew her hormone levels and her menstrual cycle. He’d even seen an ultrasound of her ovaries. But he didn’t know about her marriage. He didn’t know that she’d been fighting since her first anniversary to get back to the honesty and intimacy she and Reed had shared in the beginning.

In the five years since she’d married Reed Wellington III, Elizabeth had learned that the corporation came first, the New York business community second, the extended Wellington family third, with their own marriage somewhere further down the list.

She knew a baby would smooth things out. They’d both wanted one for years. A baby would give them a focal point, something to share, a way for her to fit more neatly into his world, and a reason for him to spend more time in hers. She’d been counting on a baby for a long time. But it was getting harder to convince herself that a baby alone was the answer.

A baby needed a warm and loving home. Children needed to experience intimacy, emotion and authenticity. The further she and Reed drifted apart, the closer Elizabeth came to admitting that even their dream of starting a family wouldn’t set things right.

She carefully placed the coin back in the rosewood box, closing the lid and smoothing her fingertips over the whorls and scrolls that decorated the top. Reed had given her the liberty head coin and the rosewood box their first Christmas together. Then he’d added new coins every year. But, as the value of the collection grew, the strength of their marriage declined.

Ironic, really. Back when she had only one coin, they’d joked together, shared secrets, made mistakes and laughed together. More often than not ending up on the bed or the couch or the carpet if no soft furniture was immediately handy.

The first time they’d made love, it was on the padded bench of a gazebo in the massive backyard of his family’s Connecticut estate. The dark, clear sky was dotted with stars. They were alone together, and Reed’s kisses had turned passionate, his hands roaming the edges of the deep back of her cocktail dress. She’d felt her skin tingle, her nipples tighten and throbbing desire pool in the pit of her stomach.