Jackson's Woman. Maggie Price

your ring?”

      Damn you, Claire thought. Damn you for showing up when she’d spent weeks growing more and more uncertain that marrying Brice Harrison was the right thing for her to do. She’d never had to wonder about the origin of all her uncertainty, not with her system churning with so many unresolved feelings for the man for whom she’d naively tossed aside everything. The man who’d expected her to ignore her ingrained need to put down roots, to make a home, in order to wander the face of the earth forever with him. The man who hadn’t offered to make any adjustments or sacrifices for her.

      And here he was, back in her life, poking and prodding.

      Fine, she thought. All his sudden presence did was enforce her determination to overcome once and for all whatever feelings she still harbored for him. Because she knew from experience that the instant Ryker was captured, Jackson would feed his need for being on the front lines of danger by taking off for wherever on the globe the hottest trouble was brewing. Just like before.

      Fueled by a mix of pride and jaw-locking anger, she tugged the heavy gold necklace from beneath her T-shirt.

      “I am engaged.” When she dangled the chain between her thumb and finger, light shot off the four-carat diamond like the tail of a comet. “I slide my ring onto this necklace for safekeeping when I know I’ll be digging through boxes of antiques at an auction.”

      She had no intention of telling Jackson that she had driven home from today’s auction totally unsure if she would ever slip the ring back on her finger. “Any more questions?”

      He waited a beat, watching her with steady blue eyes that gave nothing away. “No,” he said at last. “That covers everything I need to know.”