The Sometime Bride

Chapter One

    Carrie St. John strode to the edge of the pool and tugged the ring from her finger. One year, six months, and four days exactly. Yank. The dang thing was stuck.
    Carrie looked down in frustration at the glittering diamond offset by tiny emeralds. Beautiful, yes. But— yank , the ring worked free of her knuckle and glided off her narrow upper finger—only a poor reminder of a relationship gone sour.
    Carrie clutched her hand around the meager gems, wondering if Wilson had paid more for them, he’d have been more reluctant to leave. Hogwash, she thought, tossing back her arm and prepping for a long throw. Wilson would have left regardless. And if it hadn’t been for Teresa, it would have been for someone else.
    But of all the rotten things to do! Take Carrie to a scenic country inn, then drop the bomb. More like a blazing comet, Carrie thought, feeling the raw burn in her heart as she lobbed the ring forward over the water. The engagement ring pitched in a perfect arch toward the water, then plopped beneath the surface with a deafening calm.

    Mike Davis ran a flat palm along the bumpy bottom surface of the pool. It had to be down here somewhere, darn it! Four months of hard-earned commission down the chlorinated drain!
    If Mike had had any inkling how callous Alexia could be, he would have never gone to the trouble. Not to mention the biting expense. Now if he couldn’t find the darned ring, he’d be set back financially for nothing!
    Already was set back financially for nothing, Mike reminded himself, feeling his lungs drain of air. This was his third dive under and still nothing doing.
    Hey, wait a minute…
    Mike fishtailed over to the center of the pool where something glistened against its bottom. Yep, that was it! Had to be…
    Mike swept toward the gemstone like an alligator on the prowl, then plucked the tiny ring off the pool bottom, examining it through the blurry haze caused by pool lights and chemicals. No way. But it was. Somebody else’s ring entirely. The ring Mike had presented to Alexia had been a solitaire.
    Despite years of high school swim-team accomplishments, Mike felt his wind quickly abating. He’d been down here too long, he realized, angling toward the surface and pressing his heels off the bottom.
    Mike rocketed skyward, another woman’s engagement ring clutched in his hand. Another woman who was likely just as heartless as his Alexia. When Adam gave his rib to Eve, Mike thought, breaking into the chill of the evening, the poor schmuck hadn’t realized the woman had plans to barbeque it!

    Carrie let out a shriek as water barreled forth and a man emerged from the center of the pool.
    He shook out his honey-blond head, then paddled over to the side where Carrie stood.
    “Lose something?” he asked as Carrie backed up a step.
    Carrie raised a hand to her cheek and stroked back hot tears. “Where on earth did you come from?” she demanded of this Poseidon-like god, whose eyes, she noticed, were as green as the Caribbean Sea. Though she didn’t know why she’d noticed, or—more importantly—why she particularly cared.
    “I came from the bottom of the pool,” he said, his tone not the least bit friendly. “Where I ran into a little something that might just be yours.”
    With that, he pulled his right hand out of the water and gingerly steadied Carrie’s engagement ring between his thumb and forefinger.
    Despite his hostile tone, Carrie grudgingly admitted that this swim god was actually quite attractive. Alarmingly attractive, in a way that would make most women swoon. But not Carrie, she told herself, backing up another step. Attractive meant trouble, and, in the last four hours, Carrie St. John had endured enough trouble to last a lifetime.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “you’ve got the wrong girl.”
    Well, that was one way to look at it, Mike thought, shifting his gaze between the ring pinched in his fingers and the enigmatic woman on the pool deck.
    She was dressed in a summer sundress, wavy brown hair flowing to her shoulders. Her eyes, he thought, were just as dark. Although from this angle it was pretty hard to tell.
    Mike braced himself on his arms as he rose from the water.
    “Don’t think so,” he told her, lightly shaking off and extending his hand, palm up, in her direction.
    “Excuse me?” she asked, trying her best to look indignant. There was a little pout to her mouth that looked almost appealing. Almost, Mike