Always in Her Heart. Marta Perry

that now.”

      Sympathy welled up in him. No, not sympathy. Empathy. He knew exactly what she was feeling, because he felt it, too. They were both being blindsided by grief.

      He touched her cheek gently, wiping away a tear. “I don’t think that’s why, is it? But if it helps, go ahead and be mad at me.”

      Her sudden smile knocked him off balance. “Can I really?”

      He was being drawn into that smile. He couldn’t help himself. All the warmth Annie hid behind her cool exterior blazed in it, drawing him closer and closer.

      His wife. The words seemed to twitch a chord inside him. Annie was his wife. He’d thought he was immune to what that phrase represented. He wasn’t.

      That sham wedding night had been bad enough. He’d seen the wariness in Annie’s face as she’d said good-night and scurried up the stairs. He’d deliberately stayed downstairs, giving her time to settle, aware of every footstep overhead, every creak of the bed.

      Then she’d been at a safe distance. Now she was inches away, her warmth drawing him closer and closer.

      Oh, no. He drew back, his hand dropping away from her face. No, indeed. This business of marriage was going to be difficult enough as it was. If he let himself give in to that surge of attraction for Annie, it would be impossible.

      Chapter Four

      Oh, Becca, why didn’t you tell me about Davis’s problem? I thought we told each other everything, Annie thought as she looked at the photograph on the bookshelf. Becca, Davis and Marcy smiled at each other in the pewter frame. Their love fairly radiated into the room, catching at her heart.

      Well, if she were being honest, she hadn’t actually thought that—not since Becca married Davis. Certainly a married couple would have secrets they shared only with each other.

      A chill seemed to touch her spine, like the frost that would soon claim the flowers Becca had planted alongside the house. She and Link were a married couple now, but the only secret they shared was the reason for that marriage.

      She straightened the picture gently, then dropped the paper she was carrying on the end table next to the leather couch. She crossed to the French doors and looked out at the enclosed play yard.

      Rain pelted down, as it had all day. It glistened on the red plastic slide and soaked into Marcy’s sandbox, turning the sand from beige to brown. She traced a droplet that shivered down the pane as she thought about that wave of feeling that had swept over her when Link touched her cheek the night before, wiping her tears away.

      Forget it, she told herself fiercely. It had been a temporary aberration, a moment of empathy in their shared grief—it had meant nothing. It wouldn’t come again, because she wouldn’t let it. This whole situation was difficult enough without letting emotion get out of control.

      She didn’t do that, ever. She was run by her head, not her heart. Except perhaps that once…

      The click of the side door cut off a line of thought she’d rather not pursue.

      Link paused, peeling off his windbreaker and shaking it outside before coming in. He eyed her with what she suspected was caution, probably no more eager than she was to venture into the emotional territory they’d found themselves in the previous night.

      She pinned a smile to her face. “You’re home earlier than I expected. Marcy’s still napping.”

      He nodded, hanging his jacket on the closet hook. “Too wet for most of what we planned to do at the site today. I sent the men home early.” Something that might have been worry darkened his eyes for an instant. “Hope we don’t have to do that too often. We need to get those houses under roof before the weather turns.”

      Of course he was worried about the job. She’d learned enough in the past few days to guess that the company was overextended where this new project was concerned.

      “Accountants don’t have to worry about the weather. Just tax season.”

      He nodded, then turned a questioning look on her. “Speaking of that, have you talked to your boss about taking a leave?”

      “Not yet.” The words came out more sharply than she had intended, and Link couldn’t know she was annoyed at herself, not him. The step was necessary, but she’d put it off all day, as if to hold back the moment at which her life in Boston would come to a halt.