Zach paused outside his door and eyed her skeptically. “Am I obliged to haul you over the threshold again, or is once enough?”

“Once is enough.”

“Good.” He grinned and unlocked the door, then pushed it open for her to precede him. Curious, she quickened her pace as she walked inside. The living room was a warm mixture of leather and wood, and its wide window offered a breathtaking view of the Seattle skyline.

“It’s lovely.”

He nodded, seeming pleased at her reaction. “If you prefer, we can move. I suppose now that we’re married, we should think about purchasing a house.”

“Why?” she inquired innocently.

“I’m hoping we’ll have children someday. Whenever you’re ready, that is. There’s no pressure, Janine.”

“I…know that.” She looked past him at the panoramic view, and wrapped her arms around herself, her heart speeding up at his words.

Walking to his desk, Zach listened to his voice mail messages; apparently there were a lot.

While he did that, Janine wandered from room to room, eager to see her new home. In the hallway, she noted that Zach had diplomatically left her luggage on the carpet between the two bedrooms. His was in the master. In his own way, he was telling her that where she slept would be her decision. If she wished to become his wife in the fullest sense, all she had to do was place her suitcase in the master bedroom. Nothing more needed to be said.

It didn’t take Janine long to decide. She pulled her suitcase toward the guest room. When she looked up, Zach was standing in the hall, studying her, his expression aggrieved.

“Unless you need me for anything, I’m going to the office,” he said gruffly.

“See you tonight.”

His gaze moved past her and rested briefly on the bed in the guest room. He cocked one eyebrow questioningly, as though to give her the opportunity to reconsider. “Are you sure you’d rather sleep in here?” he asked.

“I’m sure.”

Zach raked his fingers through his hair. “I was afraid of that.”

A minute later, he was gone.

* * *

Zach didn’t come home for dinner that night. Janine had been in the bathroom when the phone rang; Zach had left her a message saying he’d be late. So she ate by herself in front of the television, feeling abandoned and unloved. She was just putting the dishes in the dishwasher when he came home.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s okay,” she lied, never having felt more alone.

Zach glanced through the mail on his desk, although Janine was sure he’d looked at it earlier. “You got the message I wouldn’t be home for dinner?”

“Yes. Did you want anything to eat? I could fix you something.”

“I ate earlier. Thanks, anyway.”

They watched an hour’s worth of television and then decided to go to bed.

Janine changed into her pajamas—the same no-nonsense type she’d been wearing all week, since she couldn’t bring herself to wear the baby-dolls Pam had given her—and had just finished washing her face. She was coming out of the bathroom, her toothbrush between her teeth, when she nearly collided with Zach in the hallway. She’d forgotten her slippers and was going to her bedroom to retrieve them. They’d already said their good-nights, and Janine hadn’t expected to see him again until morning. She wasn’t prepared for this encounter, and the air between them crackled with tension.