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“It’s all right,” he assured her. “But I thought you weren’t going to cancel those things until after the shower?”
    “The sooner, the better,” she told him. “Unless I want to get stuck footing the bill for a wedding that doesn’t happen.
    “You’re really sweet to agree to be my fiancé tomorrow. Really very sweet. You were absolutely right; I needed to buy myself some time. Once I’ve taken care of canceling the other arrangements and smoothing out all the wrinkles, breaking the news to my family won’t be as hard.”
    “Glad I could help,” Mike said, feeling as if he should stand but still not exactly trusting what his body was doing. Carrie St. John had an unusual effect on him. Though she was certainly not the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, she was definitely one of the most womanly. There was something very sensual about the way her feminine curves suited her just right. Curves he found himself itching to get his hands around.
    “Gonna cool off,” Mike said, startling Carrie by bolting to his feet and diving in a split-second lunge into the pool.
    “Fine!” Carrie called after him as he popped his head above the water. “I’ll be back at the inn. Maybe we can meet for dinner and plan out tomorrow?”
    “Absolutely!” Mike called after her before dunking his steaming head back under the surface.

Chapter Five

    Carrie dropped down on all fours and searched the oriental carpet for the back of her earring. This was ridiculous. Really! Five minutes until dinner and Carrie was quaking in her sandals like a nervous teenager. You would think this was her first date and not a mere business arrangement with a friend.
    And that’s strictly what it is, she thought, finally locating the jewelry piece and standing to insert her earring in the mirror. Strictly business. She and Mike Davis had made a deal, a pact to help each other out in this uncanny time of distress for the two of them. He would butter up her family, and she, in turn, would schmooze with his prep school cronies. Next weekend would be over before she knew it, and her loosely knotted affiliation with Mike Davis would be over altogether.
    Carrie frowned at her reflection, wondering what would have become of her and Mike Davis if Mike had truly occupied Wilson’s slot all this while. Of course, she wouldn’t have met Mike in New York, but then, as he lived closer, perhaps their relationship would have been better maintained than her and Wilson’s weekend-style affair.
    Carrie watched herself color at the thought of maintaining any kind of affair with the hunky Mike Davis. Criminy. Blushing like a schoolgirl, and he wasn’t even in the room!

    Mike tossed his Polo shirt onto the bed, thinking it was really too damn preppy. Not only that, he reminded himself, at this sort of place, one had to wear a tie.
    Mike walked over and thumbed through the hanging clothes in the mirrored armoire that served as his closet. A sports coat and light starch button-down would work. That and his conservative yellow—no, too Wall Street, he told himself. He certainly couldn’t have Carrie thinking stockbrokers on a night like this.
    Although it was true Mike was out to impersonate Wilson, he was just as determined to prove to Carrie just how different from Wilson he actually was. Because, like it or not, in less than a day, the voluptuous Carrie St. John had gotten right under Mike Davis’s skin. He didn’t know how it’d happened. Or even how in the world she’d done it. Particularly since—from the get-go—she’d seemed so determined to keep this arrangement between them strictly friends.
    Oh, Mike could get friendly with Carrie, all right. More than friendly. Downright carnal, in fact. But the puzzling thing was, Mike’s growing attraction to Carrie involved more than just hormones. There was something about her. Something very earthy and real that set her miles apart from plastic, poised women like Alexia.
    Carrie was pretty, all