“Green surgical gowns?” she asked, holding the ice chip against the back side of her mouth so she could speak clearly. “Is that because red stains are so difficult to remove from white fabric?” She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes. “Don’t answer that—I don’t want to know.”

“Don’t let your courage fail you now, Marjorie. You’re doing fine.”

Her eyes shot open. “It’s not you who’s going under the knife. I’ll be scared if I want, and I don’t mind telling you, I’d rather be anyplace else in the world but right here.” Shot or no shot, sedative or no sedative, she’d never been more unsure about anything. More than that, she was astonished that she had admitted how afraid she was to Sam. It wasn’t like her. That shot must have contained a truth serum.

“Everything’s going to work out,” he said in that calm, confident voice of his.

Without much effort Marjorie could envision him talking someone out of jumping off the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. He had the kind of voice a salesperson would kill for—low-pitched, confident, effortless, sincere.

“Don’t worry,” she said with feigned composure, seeing herself standing on the edge of the steel precipice, looking into the swirling waters far below. “I’m not going to jump.”

He gave her a funny look but made no comment.

“That didn’t make any sense, did it?” She tossed her head from side to side in an effort to clear her thoughts. It didn’t work. Everything scrambled together until she wasn’t sure of anything.

He patted her hand. “Don’t worry about it. The medication has that effect.”

Marjorie wondered if it actually was the shot. No, she was convinced his silk-edged voice and kind eyes were the cause of all this, mesmerizing her. Her eyes drifted closed, and she moistened her lips as she imagined Sam Bretton leaning over her and whispering words of love in her ear, then taking her in his arms and kissing her with such tenderness, such passion, that her thoughts forcefully collided inside her head. A fireworks display that rivaled a Fourth of July celebration exploded, and she forced her eyes open and felt the blood rush through her veins.

“Go ahead and sleep,” he said softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Please don’t leave me.” Her eyes rounded, and her mouth filled with the bitter taste of panic. She needed this man she barely knew more than she’d ever needed anyone. The terror that gripped her as she stared ahead at the wide double doors that led to the operating room was intense and nearly overwhelming.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam assured her, continuing to hold her hand, his fingers firmly entwined with hers.