She had to force herself not to throw her toothbrush aside. Not to tell him that she longed for him to love her with the same passion he’d felt for Marie.

His hands reached out to steady her, and when she didn’t immediately move away, he ran the tips of his fingers down her thick brown hair, edging her bangs to the side of her face so he could gaze into her eyes.

Janine lowered her head. “Esh-coo me,” she managed, but it was difficult to speak with a toothbrush poking out of her mouth.

“Pardon?”

Janine hurried back to the bathroom and rinsed out her mouth. Turning, she braced her hands on the sink. “I said excuse me for bumping into you.”

“Will you be comfortable in the guest room?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.”

He held a blanket in his arms. “I thought you might need this.”

“Thanks,” she said as smoothly as possible, coming out of the bathroom to take the blanket from him. She wanted to be swept off her feet. She wanted love. She wanted passion.

He was offering a warm blanket.

“I…phoned Gramps,” she said, looking for a way to delay their parting and cursing herself for her weakness.

“I intended to call him myself, but got sidetracked.”

“He sounded good. Dr. Coleman and a couple of his other friends were at the house and the four of them were playing pinochle.”

“I’m glad to hear he’s enjoying his semi-retirement.”

“I am, too.”

A short silence followed.

“Good night, Janine,” Zach said after a moment. He glanced, frowning, into the guest room.

“Good night,” she said awkwardly.

Janine was sure neither of them slept a wink that night. They were across the hall from each other, but might as well have been on opposite sides of the state, so great was the emotional distance between them.

In the morning, Zach’s alarm rang at seven, but Janine was already awake. She threw back her covers, dressed and had coffee waiting when he entered the kitchen.

Zach seemed surprised to see her. “Thanks,” he murmured as she handed him a cup. “That’s a very…wifely thing to do.”

“What? Make coffee?”

“Get up to see your husband off to work.”

“I happened to be awake and figured I should get out of bed and do something useful.”

He opened the refrigerator, took out the orange juice and poured himself a glass. “I see.” He replaced the carton and leaned against the counter. “You did agree that our marriage would be a real one.”

“Yes, I did,” she said somewhat defensively. But that agreement had been before she’d learned about the one great love of his life. Zach had warned her their marriage would be advantageous for a variety of reasons, the least of which was love. At the time, Janine had agreed, convinced their relationship would find a storybook ending nonetheless—convinced that one day they’d realize they were in love. Now she understood that would never happen. And she didn’t know if she could stand it.