Addy took her time walking and was relieved that she didn’t see Remington when she reached the lawn.

But there was some sort of commotion at the bank of the lake.

She wandered over to see what was going on.

“He’s been under there too long,” Esther whined.

“He’s a swim coach,” one of the other waiters said.

“Well the tide could have pulled him under,” Esther cried.

“It’s a lake,” Marshall said gently. The guitar teacher had wandered over, several of his students trailing behind.

“Who’s in there?” Addy asked, heading right for the water, prepared to search and rescue.

“Remington,” Esther said.

What?

Of course he was. Like a little kid hiding under his bed. A very big little kid. And no one besides Addy knew he wasn’t in any danger.

“Go ahead, Addy, I’ll call 9-1-1,” Marshall said.

Shit.

“Don’t bother,” Addy said quickly. “I’ll get him.”

“Cops have nothing else to do around here,” Marshall said. His cell phone was already in his hand. “Fine,” Addy said, wading into the water. There was nothing she could do without seeming suspicious.

She swam away from the bank. It would be hard to find him because he wasn’t sending up air bubbles. But she figured he would be heading straight for the island, it was a natural goal.

She drew a mental line from where he had started and swam as fast as she could. She pushed on until her muscles burned pleasantly and then there was a disturbance in the water and he rose in front of her.

“What do you want?” he asked, flinging the words at her like arrows.

“I want you not to make a spectacle of yourself,” she yelled back. “This is the type of thing that will break your cover.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look,” she indicated the bank, where a dozen people now waved and watched.

“Oh,” he said, the anger gone from his face.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “I wasn’t thinking. Well, I was thinking, but not about that.”

Addy pressed her lips together and nodded, trying not to notice how gorgeous he was with water dripping from his hair.

“Let’s get you back there,” she said, looking back at the shore. “Hopefully Marshall didn’t call an ambulance yet. What’s our story?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what happened to you? Why didn’t you come up for air?” She racked her brains, then came up with something that might work. “You’ll tell them you did come up for air, but that you were zigzagging for strength and doing breath training, so they must not have seen you come up, because you didn’t come up often and you weren’t coming up where they expected you to.”

“Thank you, Addy,” he said. “That is a good idea.”

She nodded and tried not to smile. It was funny to see such a contrite expression on the face of such a big, hunky guy.

“You will never do this again,” she said sternly.

“I will not,” he agreed.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“Addy, wait.”

She turned back to him, willing herself not to let him kiss her. Knowing that she probably wouldn’t be able to help herself.

“I know you don’t love me,” he said simply. “I won’t stand in the way of what you want. I will let you go.”

She could see that it cost him to say it. And that his decision was partly due to whatever mistaken conclusion he’d drawn when he saw her talking to Marco. If she explained the truth, he would believe her, would trust her, because he was Remington, and that’s what he did. But she knew it was for the best.

Crushed, she nodded once and swam off toward the shore.

She could hear him just behind her, the steady beats of his big arms hitting the water as fast as hers, though she had swum all her life and he had learned just days ago.

He was a great swimmer.

At least she had given him something.