SITE DIRECTORY

                                         PROLOGUE

                            Rome:  Saturday, 1 p.m.  (Week 1)

        Her hand shook as she handed her identification and boarding pass to the security agent. She felt nauseous. Between the travel and the stress of the assignment, her resistance must be down. Or could it be--?
        Not now. She had always been so careful. With the uncertainty of her profession, commitment was impractical. She had accepted that, hadn't allowed reason to be overturned by emotion. Yet, beneath her discipline, somewhere in the depths of her being, a stubbornly irrepressible primitive stab of joy made her heart leap. Could there be life-- new life-- deep within her, pulsing, developing, growing, being?    
        She put a flat open hand on her abdomen and pressed inward as if to quell not only the nausea but also the wonder. It was probably indigestion, she scolded herself. She shouldn't have eaten breakfast. The sausage had disagreed with her.
        When the agent handed back her boarding pass, she squared her shoulders and stepped forward. Another few minutes and she would be on her way home. She would freshen up in the ladies room and go to her gate. If she was still nauseated tomorrow, she would see a doctor, and he would tell her she simply had the flu.
                                           
                                                                                       

 
 (For CHAPTER PEEKS, see page 3.) 

 
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