Her dark eyes widened with alarm, and she forcefully shook her head. “No…thanks.” By the time she’d finished speaking, she’d backed herself out the door.

“Marjorie, are you feeling all right?”

“I’m a little…I’m fine,” she managed somehow. “Really.”

As carefully as he’d lifted the infant, Sam replaced her in her bassinet. By the time he’d finished, Marjorie was leaning against the wall in the corridor outside the nursery.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, coming to stand beside her.

“I…it’s no big thing.”

“You look like you’re about to faint.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not the type,” she said. “I’m not the kind of woman who goes all mushy at the sight of a baby, either. In case you hadn’t noticed, not all of us are alike. There are some of us who cook and crochet and get pregnant at the drop of a hat. And then there are others, like me, who are allergic to baby powder and dirty diapers, and content to eat TV dinners the rest of our miserable lives.”

Sam’s eyes were incredulous. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t like babies?”

“Sure, I do,” she said. “In somebody else’s arms.”

Sam blinked, hardly able to believe his ears. He felt as if the world were crashing in around him. He’d decided not to worry about Marjorie’s lack of culinary skills, concluding that her strength and independence were more important than any domestic qualities. But when it came to having children, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—compromise.

“Babies are fine for the right kind of woman,” she said. Her voice had gained in volume with the strength of her convictions. “Unfortunately, I’m not one of them.”

“You don’t mean that.” His words were sharp.

By now their heated exchange had attracted the attention of the hospital staff. If Sam’s nursing friends had disapproved of her earlier, it was nothing compared to the censure she felt being aimed at her now. They thought Sam deserved someone far better than she would ever be, and every accusing glare said as much.

Without thought for the wisdom of her actions, she turned and half ran, half walked, down the polished corridor to the elevator, fighting back tears all the way.

“Marjorie, wait!” Sam cried.

Since the elevator wasn’t there yet anyway, she didn’t have much choice if she wanted to maintain her dignity. They descended in tense silence. Even when they left the hospital building and headed toward Sam’s car, neither of them spoke. By that time her throat was so clogged that it felt as though someone had a stranglehold on her. With everything that was in her, she yearned to be all Sam wanted in a woman, yet she’d failed miserably.