Steadier on her feet than she’d been before, she was pleased with her slow but sure progress. Although it was hours before noon, the hospital was a hive of activity. If she’d been in a grumbling mood, she would have pointed out that Dr. Johnson had suggested she get plenty of rest, but the hospital staff had awakened her before the sun was anywhere close to the horizon. The only people up at that time of the morning were mass murderers, teenagers, and nurse’s aides.

The woman who had brought in her breakfast tray grinned as Marjorie passed the nurses’ station.

“Hey, you’re doing great.”

Marjorie smiled back. “Yes, I think I’ll donate my body to science.”

“Science fiction might appreciate it more,” said a deep male voice from behind her.

“Sam?” Marjorie laughed and turned her head, pleased to see him again.

“To your room,” he instructed.

Marjorie was more than happy to comply, and glanced with wide-eyed curiosity toward the brown paper sack in his hand. “What’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

“I thought you had appointments all day,” she said once they were back in her room, not that she was disappointed to see him. Nothing could have been further from the truth; she was overjoyed.

“I just finished my rounds.”

“Oh.” Once again Marjorie couldn’t take her eyes from his dazzling smile. “How are the twins?”

“As cute as a bug’s ear. I’ll take you to see them this evening, if you want.”

It was all Marjorie could do to nod. She’d brought up the subject of the babies because she knew they were close to Sam’s heart. She was interested, but not to the point of overcoming her instinctive apprehension. When the time came that she couldn’t avoid it any longer, she would look through the glass and ooh and aah with appropriate enthusiasm, and Sam would never guess she was frightened to death.

“I brought you something to tide you over until lunch,” he said, holding out the sack to her.

Marjorie took it and eagerly peeked inside. The chocolate-coated ice-cream bar produced a small squeal of delight. If they’d been anyplace but the middle of a hospital, she would have thrown her arms around his neck and smudged his face with kisses to thank him properly.

“Thank you, Sam. Really.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Those gorgeous eyes of his seemed to look straight into her heart. “I felt terrible about the scene I made earlier,” Marjorie admitted, centering her greedy gaze on the melting Dove bar. Her mouth started to water. This man was special. Really special.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly helpful.”