He helped her out of the car and led her through a side entrance and to the elevator beyond. When the door shut, he punched the floor number and pulled her into his arms for a brief, ardent kiss.

She tried to respond, but her heart was beating as hard and loud as a drum, and her insides were quivering with apprehension. She wanted to do everything right with Sam, and her fear of babies was sure to ruin her chances.

He pulled her close to his side and stared at the closed doors. Marjorie was perfect, with her soft skin, her wide, soulful eyes, and a heart he longed to fill with his love.

The elevator doors smoothly glided open, and Marjorie braced herself for the inevitable. Sam meant so much to her, and it was vital that she be the kind of woman he needed. Without meaning to, she pressed her flattened palms together and rubbed them back and forth several times. When he looked her way, he frowned, so she smiled tightly and freed her hands, letting her arms drop lifelessly to her sides.

With his hand at the base of her spine, Sam directed Marjorie over to the nurses’ station and introduced her to three of the staff members he worked with regularly. The purpose of this visit was more social than anything else. He’d partially fabricated the need to stop in, in an effort to casually introduce her to his peers. It seemed as though she’d been a natural part of his life forever.

“Is Bernie around?” Sam asked the oldest of the nurses, who reminded Marjorie of Bertha Powell. The two could have been sisters.

“Dr. Miller’s in the lounge.”

Sam reached for Marjorie’s hand, lacing her fingers through his as he led her down the wide hallway.

“Nice to have met you,” Marjorie said brightly over her shoulder.

“A pleasure,” the oldest nurse returned. The other two said nothing. Their wide-eyed stares told her that both of them were convinced she wasn’t good enough for their beloved Dr. Sam. The feeling of being watched persisted long after the staff members were out of sight.

Bernie Miller was sitting at the round table in the middle of the doctors’ lounge, holding a cup of coffee. He was leaning over the table and holding his head up with one hand. When Sam and Marjorie entered the room, he raised his head, his gaze brightening. His fatigued features relaxed into a slow grin.

“Bernie, I’d like you to meet Marjorie Majors.”

Slowly Dr. Miller rose to his feet, but his gaze didn’t waver from Marjorie’s. “Hello there.”

“Hi.” She stepped forward and offered him her hand.

“So this is her?” Bernie’s gaze shot from Marjorie back to Sam as they ended the brief handshake.