Honeymoon with the Boss

CHAPTER TEN

THE memory of the island was thundering around the room but Imogen wasn’t going to be the first to mention it. What could she say, anyway? Oh, remember how we lay on the beach and looked at the stars? Remember how it felt to hold hands and feel as if the earth was turning beneath us? Remember how we made love right there and then had to shower off all the sand before we went to bed?

So she smiled coolly without quite meeting his eyes and handed him a folder. ‘These are the most urgent messages.’

Daunted by her composure, Tom took the folder but didn’t open it. ‘Have you still got the key to Julia’s flat?’ he asked abruptly.

‘I should have.’ Imogen rummaged in her drawer. She had used the key when she had returned the wedding presents before they’d left for Coconut Island. ‘Yes, here it is,’ she said, producing the key and forcing her mind away from the island. Stupid how it took so little for the memories to come swirling back. ‘Do you need it back?’

‘I was wondering if you could do a job for me,’ said Tom, and she assembled a smile from somewhere.

‘That’s what I’m here for.’

‘I spoke to Julia at the weekend,’ he told her. ‘It turns out that Patrick is going to work in some out-of-the-way place in South America, and Julia’s going with him. I can’t see her lasting out there,’ he admitted, ‘but she seems determined to start a new life.

‘She hasn’t got time to come back to London and sort out the apartment before she goes,’ he went on, ‘and the agents need it to be cleared so that they can let it again. She just took a small bag with her when she went off with Patrick and, although she hadn’t moved everything over here, there will still be some clothes and other stuff left. She says she doesn’t want any of it,’ Tom finished, ‘so she asked if I would get rid of anything that’s there. It can all go to charity or the dump.’

Imogen ached at the distant note in Tom’s voice. Talking to Julia must have been difficult for him, she knew. He had told her that he didn’t love Julia, and Imogen believed him, but she knew how much the other woman’s rejection had hurt his pride. Imogen had found it hard settling back into normal life, but how much harder must it be for Tom, who had had to return to an empty flat and the reminder that the perfect life he had planned with Julia had fallen apart?

‘Would you like me to deal with that for you?’ she said, anticipating his request.

‘Thank you,’ said Tom.

His formality broke Imogen’s heart but she kept her smile in place. ‘I’ll get on with it as soon as I can.’

In fact, it wasn’t until after work that Thursday that Imogen had time to get to the exclusive apartment Julia had rented in Chelsea.

It had been a very long four days, and Imogen was exhausted with the effort of keeping a smile on her face and parrying the not-so-subtle questions of her colleagues, who were desperate to know more about the time she had spent with Tom. Which was hard when she was just as desperate not to think about it.

She and Tom had both been careful to avoid any reference to Coconut Island. Inevitably, the atmosphere in the office was strained, but Imogen didn’t think they had been doing too badly until one of their senior shareholders had come to see Tom earlier that afternoon. When the meeting was over, Tom had walked him out to Imogen’s office and helped him on with his coat while he’d continued to complain about protection orders.

‘The world’s run mad.’ He snorted. ‘Next thing we know, flies and slugs will have protection orders! Last year we had bats roosting in the roof and we weren’t allowed to get rid of them! Absolutely ridiculous,’ he grumbled. ‘Bats, I ask you! Horrible little things. Have you ever seen them?’

Over his shoulder, Tom’s eyes met Imogen’s. ‘Yes, I have’ was all he said, but it was as if they were both transported back to the veranda on Coconut Island, to the hot tropical dusk and the bats darting and diving in the air. Imogen could practically feel the chair beneath her thighs, almost smell the frangipani drifting through the darkness, and hear the insects whirring and chirruping.

She knew Tom was remembering too. She could see it in the silver-grey eyes as their gazes locked and there was just the two of them, held in thrall by the memory of those long, sweet evenings.

‘Well, I’d better get on,’ the shareholder was saying, digging in his pockets for his gloves. ‘Good to see you again, Tom. Oh, and by the way, I meant to say that I was very sorry to hear about that business in February,’ he added gruffly.

‘Business?’ Tom sounded distracted.

‘Your wedding…most unfortunate.’ He was obviously embarrassed at having to be specific.

‘Oh, that…yes…thank you.’

Imogen was thinking about that exchange as she put the key in the lock and let herself into Julia’s apartment.

Tom hadn’t said anything when he’d come back from escorting the shareholder to the lift but something had changed with that meeting of their eyes, Imogen was convinced, and she hugged the possibility to her. Perhaps she didn’t need to despair, after all.

Wandering from room to room in Julia’s gorgeous flat, Imogen let herself dream. Maybe she would go into the office tomorrow and be talking about work when Tom would throw the file they were discussing onto the desk and say he couldn’t bear it without her any more. He would sweep her into his arms and tell her she was the one he really wanted. He’d beg her to marry him and stay with him for ever.

Even if he didn’t tell her that he loved her, it would be enough, Imogen decided. A man like Tom couldn’t suddenly pull all his emotions out of a hat, but there had been a chemistry between them, and today it had seemed as if it was still there. They could build on that. She could teach him how to love. She didn’t care as long as they could be together.

They could live somewhere like this. Imogen loved this apartment. It had lots of space and light, with a wonderful view of the Thames. She couldn’t help comparing it with the flat she shared with Amanda. There was nothing wrong with that, but it was very small and a bit shabby. They had fun there, of course, but this was the kind of place you lived in when you were grown up, when you had made a success of your career and were going to marry a man like Tom.

Dreamily, Imogen opened the wardrobe in the bedroom. Julia hadn’t spent much time in London, but it was still full of beautiful clothes. Imogen whistled soundlessly as she checked the labels. Amanda would be wild with envy. This lot ought to raise a lot of money for some lucky charity shop.

Fantasising all the while about living there with Tom, Imogen folded the outfits carefully and put them on the bed, ready to be packed into boxes for collection. She would have to deal with Julia’s wedding dress separately. It was hanging in a gorgeous cover behind the door and was much too big to fit in any of the boxes.

Imogen couldn’t resist having a look at it. Drawing down the zip, she let out an involuntary sigh of longing. It was exquisite. Very gently she touched the shimmering ivory fabric, marvelling at the detail in the delicately beaded design. Julia had sent her a sketch of the design, but she hadn’t realised how beautiful it would be when it was made up. This was the wedding dress every girl dreamed of, a dress that would make you look like a princess-gorgeous and utterly romantic.

Lifting it down, she drew off the cover and held the dress up against her, imagining wearing it at her own wedding.

She was walking down the aisle on her father’s arm in the village church. He was bursting with pride, her mother was sniffing into a handkerchief, her brothers were rolling their eyes but happy for her anyway. Amanda was there too, ready to step up and take her bouquet when the moment came.

Imogen could practically feel the stone floor beneath her feet and smell that mixture of musty kneeling cushions, old hymn books and wooden pews worn smooth by generations.

In her mind, she looked towards the altar and there was Tom, looking devastating in an austere morning suit. For a moment, she wondered if it could possibly be true, but then the stern features softened as he turned to watch her coming up the aisle, and he smiled at her, the silvery-grey eyes alight with love…

Reluctantly, Imogen wrenched herself from the dream and stroked the beautiful dress longingly. What would it be like to wear a dress like this?

Find out.

The thought slid insidiously into her head and lodged there. Why not try it on, after all? It wasn’t her dress…but Julia didn’t want it. What harm could it do, just to see what she would look like as a bride?

Imogen dithered, then made up her mind. Quickly, she pulled off her clothes and examined the dress in her bra and knickers. Unzipping it carefully, she stepped into the skirt and pulled up the bodice in front of the mirror. The heavy silk felt gorgeous against her skin.

Smiling at her reflection, Imogen reached for the side zip-and the dream promptly shattered under the crashing fist of reality.

There was no way this zip was ever going to do up with her inside it.

Imogen watched her smile wiped out by a wash of humiliation, and a blotchy tide of embarrassed colour surged up her throat. There might as well have been a crowd of spectators, pointing and jeering.

What had she been thinking? She knew how slender and elegant Julia was. She had to be a good three sizes bigger than Tom’s erstwhile fiancée. Of course she wasn’t going to fit into Julia’s dress.

Of course she wasn’t going to fit into Julia’s life.

Because that was what she really wanted, Imogen realised dully. She wanted to be slim and sophisticated and beautiful and clever and the kind of woman Tom really wanted to share his life. But she wasn’t any of those things. She had to face reality, and the reality was that Tom Maddison was out of her league. He was never going to love her. If he couldn’t love Julia, he couldn’t love anyone, and she would be fooling herself if she let herself believe otherwise.

And Imogen needed to be loved. That had been the dream, she understood now. It wasn’t the wedding, or the dress. It was that moment of looking at Tom and believing that he loved her.

Well, it wasn’t going to happen, and she had to accept that. No matter what she told herself about chemistry, it wouldn’t be enough.

A fantasy, Tom had called it. Well, maybe it was, but Imogen knew that nothing else would do. I’m not prepared to settle for anything less than love, she had told him, and she was right. She had thought that she could compromise, but she couldn’t.

Miserably, she stepped out of the dress and put it back on its hanger, before carrying it over to lay it on the pile destined for the charity shop. Someone was going to get a fabulous bargain.

But it wasn’t going to be her.

‘That’s it for now.’ Imogen closed her notebook and got to her feet. ‘Except…’ she fished in a folder for a piece of paper and passed it across the desk to Tom ‘…I thought you would like to see the job description I’ve prepared.’

‘Job description?’

‘For your new PA.’

Tom felt as if she had reached across the desk and slapped him.

‘You’re leaving?’

‘I told you that I was planning to travel.’

‘I thought you said June?’ The words felt unwieldy in his mouth and he had to force himself to take the sheet of paper.

‘I’ve advanced my plans a bit,’ said Imogen. ‘I’ve got a great deal on a flight to Australia leaving in a month.’

A month? Tom felt sick. She obviously couldn’t wait to get away.

He stared at the job description, but the words danced in front of his eyes. He should have expected this, he knew. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t told him very clearly that she wanted to travel. Now he felt a fool for letting himself hope that she would want to stay after all.

It had been stupid of him to even think about trying to find a way back to how things had been on the island.

He had wanted to be careful, knowing that it would be a mistake to rush into anything. Even if Julia’s desire to rush into marriage hadn’t taught him a lesson, Tom needed to be sure about what he felt. Imogen wasn’t like any other girlfriend he had ever had. She didn’t fit into his life the way Julia had. She was disturbing, distracting. She had thrown him into turmoil and made him question everything he’d ever thought he wanted. Tom didn’t like the way it left him feeling churned up and out of control.

There had been part of him hoping that this feeling would pass. He didn’t want to hurt Imogen by telling her that he wanted her, and then realising that he didn’t. Tom knew what it was like to be messed around, and he wasn’t going to do to Imogen what Julia had done to him.

It was just as well he hadn’t said anything, Tom decided. Imogen had obviously been making her own plans, and it would have been awkward for her to find a kind way to let him down. At least this way he would be spared the humiliation of having his feelings thrown back in his face.

This way, he hadn’t risked exposing himself only to be left again.

It was probably all for the best, in fact.

‘That looks fine,’ he said and handed the job description back to Imogen, not having read a word of it. ‘Pass it on to HR and tell them it’s urgent. I want someone in place before you go.’

Imogen took a final look around her office. No, not hers. It had only ever been temporary, like everything else in her life. She had a temporary job, a temporary relationship on the island, and now she was going off on a temporary trip. When she came back, Imogen vowed, she was going to settle and make something permanent.

But the only permanence she wanted was Tom. The last month had been horrible. Oh, she had put a good face on it. She had smiled and pretended that she was looking forward to her trip. She had told herself that once she got to Australia everything would feel different, but that was what she had told herself after Coconut Island, wasn’t it?

Imogen didn’t believe it now. She knew that wanting Tom didn’t get easier, that loving him didn’t get any less. Her memories of the island were no less vivid now than they had been the day after they came back. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him, but she couldn’t bear to stay. Much better to face reality. It would be all too easy to waste her life hoping for the impossible.

What was the point of hankering after a man who didn’t know how to love? She might love Tom, but he could never make her happy. She needed to love someone who would love her back, who needed her the way she needed him, and that someone wasn’t Tom.

For the past month he had been distant and their conversation largely limited to work, although every now and then he had asked after her plans, as if to underline the fact that he was perfectly happy with her going. He had appointed a new PA, a coolly efficient woman called Judy with impressive qualifications and tons of high-level experience, who would suit Tom perfectly. He wouldn’t miss her at all.

Facing reality hurt.

‘Come on, Imogen, we’re all waiting for you.’ Sue from HR was beckoning from the door. ‘You can’t be late for your own farewell party.’

‘I’ve never had a party when leaving a temp job before,’ said Imogen as they made their way down to one of the conference rooms. She was baffled by the fuss everyone was making. ‘I’ve only been here a few months.’

‘It feels like longer,’ said Sue. ‘We’re all going to miss you. Wait until you see the turnout!’

Imogen’s throat tightened when she saw how many people had come to say goodbye and wish her well. She smiled shakily. ‘Stop being so nice! You’re going to make me wish I wasn’t leaving.’

‘Oh, yes, of course you’d rather stay here with us than go to Australia!’

There was much good-natured envy of her travels. Imogen plastered on a big smile and agreed that she was incredibly lucky, but all the time she was aware that Tom wasn’t there. He had had to go to a meeting, but he had said that he would be back in time for her farewell party.

Imogen dreaded saying goodbye to him, but perhaps it would be better to do it in front of everyone else. An audience might stop her making a complete fool of herself.

‘Where’s the boss?’ grumbled Neville from Finance. ‘We can’t start the party until he’s done the speech.’

‘We can’t start the party until he’s gone,’ said someone else. ‘He’s not exactly a bundle of fun, is he?’

Imogen wanted to tell them they didn’t know what he was really like, but there had been more than enough interest in her relationship with Tom. She was fairly sure that a lot of those there were hoping that there would be some juicy titbit of gossip in his speech.

‘Here he is now,’ she heard someone say, and she turned to see Tom filling the doorway, looking stern and massive and gorgeous. Imogen’s heart ripped at the sight of him. How did he do that? All he had to do was stand there and look like that, and her breath caught and longing snarled in her like barbed wire.

Across the room his eyes met hers for a long, jarring moment, then he was looking away, inclining his head to hear something the Director of HR was saying. He nodded, and then stepped up onto a dais at the front of the room.

Imogen was being nudged forward too. She knew what to expect. She had been to enough excruciating farewell bashes. There would be an awkward speech, the presentation of a jokey present and a gift token of some kind, and then it would be her turn to make a speech. Well, there was nothing to be done but hope that it was over as soon as possible.

But what if Tom left as soon as the speeches were over? She wouldn’t have a chance to say goodbye to him properly, Imogen realised in a sudden panic. She didn’t want to say it in front of everyone after all. She wanted to tell him what he had meant to her, but how could she do that with them all watching? I love you wasn’t the kind of thing you could say with an audience.

Someone was chinking a glass, and the room fell silent while Imogen was still feverishly trying to work out how she could tell Tom what she felt. All at once it was imperative that she did. How could she have even thought she could go away without saying anything?

She barely heard the Director of HR introducing Tom, but she saw Tom take a step forward and clear his throat. He looked very grim, as if he would rather be almost anywhere else, and Imogen didn’t blame him.

Tom looked at the sea of faces turned expectantly towards him. They were all waiting for him to deliver the usual tribute: always ready with a smile…will be much missed…wishing her all the best on her travels, blah, blah, blah. Tom had it all ready but, as he opened his mouth, he realised that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t trot out some bland speech to Imogen. He couldn’t pretend that she was just like everyone else when his heart was seething with the truth.

‘You’re all here because, even though Imogen hasn’t been here very long, she’s become part of the company,’ he began slowly. ‘She’s been a good colleague to you and I’m sure you’re going to miss her, but you’re not going to miss her the way I will. When Imogen walks out of the door tonight, it’s going to be like a light in my life that’s been switched off.’

There was a sudden riveted silence in the room as everyone did a double take and checked with their neighbour that they hadn’t misheard.

‘The thing is, I’ve got used to her smile, to the way she sucks in her breath when she’s annoyed.’ Tom could hardly believe what he was saying, but the words just kept coming. ‘I’ll miss how she laughs on the phone, the perfume that she always wears. I’ll miss the way my heart stops whenever she walks into the room, and how the day seems brighter and better when she’s there.’

The room had fallen utterly silent by now, but Tom had forgotten everyone else. His attention was fixed on Imogen, who had been pushed to the front and was staring at him, blue eyes enormous. Now that he had started, it was easy, he realised. All he had to do was tell her everything that had been churning inside him since they’d returned from Coconut Island.

‘I’m sorry if I’m embarrassing you,’ he told her. ‘If it’s any comfort, I know I’m making the most colossal fool of myself too, but I just can’t let you go without telling you how I feel. I’ve tried not to need you. I told myself that I would soon get used to it once you’d gone, but it’s too late for me now. If you’re not there, I can’t get comfortable, nothing seems quite right, and when I look at what my life will be without you, I don’t see success, I just see a flat, empty tundra I have to get across somehow.’

Imogen was still staring incredulously. Tom didn’t blame her. He had never taken such a risk before, had never felt as if he were at the mercy of forces beyond his control the way he did now. He was terrified.

‘I love you,’ he told her, without taking his eyes from hers. ‘There, I’ve said it! I didn’t want to fall in love with you-I didn’t think I could-and I’ve been trying to persuade myself that what we had on Coconut Island was just a temporary thing. I told myself this feeling would go away, but, Imogen, I don’t think it’s going to,’ said Tom quietly. ‘I think I’m going to spend the rest of my life missing you and the way you make me feel.

‘I wasn’t going to say anything,’ he went on after a moment. ‘I thought it would be awkward and embarrassing for both of us-as indeed it has been!’ he added with a rueful smile. ‘But you told me once that sometimes we have to be prepared to fail, and I guess that’s what I’m doing now, but I don’t want you to go without telling you what you’ve done for me. You’ve changed my life. I didn’t understand when you told me that you were looking for someone who would complete you, but I do now. You’ve made me realise that I don’t have your warmth and your laughter and that without them, without you, I’ll never be quite right.’

He hesitated, wondering if he was making sense. ‘I thought I was comfortable before. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted and what I needed to do, but the truth is that knowing you is the only thing that makes my life feel worthwhile.’

To his horror, Tom saw tears shining in Imogen’s eyes. ‘You don’t need to worry,’ he hurried on. ‘I’m not expecting you to say anything. I know you’ve got plans, and I hope you’ll have a wonderful time. You deserve to be happy. I just wanted…just wanted to thank you,’ he said, losing the thread at last. ‘For everything you’ve been, and everything you’ve done. I’ll never forget you.’

There was another deafening silence. Nobody moved. They were clearly all waiting to see if he was planning on humiliating himself some more.

Imogen opened her mouth and then closed it again, unable to speak.

‘Anyway,’ said Tom too heartily, ‘I believe we have a present for you.’ He picked it up from the table and stood holding it, not sure what to do with it next.

He felt as if he had jumped off the edge of a cliff and was still bracing himself for a crash landing. It was a little late to realise that he had absolutely no idea of how he was going to get himself out of here.

But Imogen was moving at last. She stepped onto the dais while the entire room held its breath.

‘I don’t want a present,’ she said very clearly, finding her voice at last. ‘You’ve just given me everything I could ever want or ever need.’

Half the women in the room sighed.

Was that a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth? Hope began to beat wildly against Tom’s ribs as he looked into Imogen’s blue, blue eyes.

The Director of HR cleared his throat. ‘I think perhaps Mr Maddison would like to say goodbye to Imogen alone,’ he said firmly. ‘The rest of us can continue the party in the pub.’

Reluctantly, people began to leave, looking over their shoulders at the scene at the front of the room, where Tom and Imogen stood facing each other, apparently oblivious to the room emptying.

Even when the door had closed behind the last of them and cut off the buzz of speculation outside, neither of them moved immediately.

‘Sorry,’ said Tom. ‘Was that very embarrassing?’

‘Very,’ said Imogen unsteadily. ‘And very beautiful.’

Stepping closer, she took the present from his nerveless hands and put it carefully on the table.

‘Did you mean to say all that tonight?’ she asked him.

He shook his head. ‘I had another speech entirely prepared but, when it came to it, I realised I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t say goodbye to you like that. I can’t say goodbye to you at all.’

‘Then don’t.’ Imogen closed the distance between them at last. Putting her arms round his neck, she pressed her face into his throat. ‘Don’t say goodbye, Tom. I can’t bear it if you do.’

Instinctively, Tom’s arms closed around her and he drew her hard against him, breathing in the scent of her, savouring the warmth and softness of her, his head reeling with the relief of holding her again.

‘Imogen…does that mean you’ll stay?’

‘I will if you want me.’

‘Want you?’ Tom laughed raggedly. ‘Imogen, you have no idea how much I do! I’m so in love with you, I don’t know what to do with myself. You’ve turned my life upside down, and now you’re the only one who can put it all right again.’

‘But I’m so ordinary,’ Imogen protested, pulling back slightly to look up into his face.

‘You’re not ordinary,’ he said. ‘You’re beautiful and warm and loving and true. Are you thinking about Julia?’

‘Of course. You’ve got to admit we’re very different, and she was so much more suitable for you.’

‘Suitable, maybe,’ said Tom, ‘but she wasn’t you, and she didn’t make me feel alive the way you do. She didn’t make me the kind of man who takes crazy risks like the one tonight, and when I was with her I didn’t feel as if I was in the only place I wanted to be, the way I feel when I’m with you.’

He pulled her back against him, sliding his hands under her hair to hold her head still. ‘If it comes to that, do you think I don’t know that I’m not suitable for you? I just wish I could be the man you really want.’

‘But you are.’ Imogen put her fingers over his mouth. ‘Tom, you are,’ she told him.

‘You said you weren’t prepared to settle for anyone less than perfect,’ he reminded her. ‘I’m not perfect.’

‘No, you’re not. You’re really quite difficult at times,’ she said, softening her words with a smile, ‘but I love you anyway. And I’m not perfect either, but when we were together…the way you make me feel…that’s perfect.’

A smile started in the silver-grey eyes and spread slowly over his face. ‘Do I make you feel like a dolphin?’ he asked, half joking, half hopeful.

Imogen remembered the dolphins soaring out of the sparkling sea into the sunlight and smiled back at him. ‘That’s exactly how I feel when I’m with you!’

Tom kissed her then, a long, deep, hungry kiss that left her breathless and blissful, and when he broke for air she wound her arms around him and kissed him back, while joy spilt through her in a glorious, giddy rush.

Imogen never knew how long they kissed there, or at what point they moved, but when she came up for air, Tom was leaning back against the desk and she was wedged between his legs. Heaving a sigh of happiness, she rested her head on his shoulder and felt his hands smoothing possessively up and down her spine.

‘Why were you going to leave if you loved me?’ he asked.

‘Because I was afraid that if I stayed I would end up compromising. You’d been so certain that you would never fall in love, and I could see myself spending years just hoping and hoping that the impossible would happen.’

‘The way you did with Andrew?’

She nodded against his shoulder. ‘I told myself I had to face reality, and I didn’t think I could do that, seeing you every day. I thought it would be easier to go to Australia, where there were no memories, and then you stood up there in front of all those people and told me that you loved me and I thought my heart was going to burst. I still can’t believe this isn’t a dream,’ she confessed.

‘If it is, we’re both in it,’ said Tom, kissing her softly. ‘Now we’ve both got to face the reality of loving each other.’

Imogen nestled closer. ‘That’s one reality I don’t mind facing!’

‘Then we’ll face it together.’ He rested his check against her hair. ‘Do you remember that ceremony on the sandbar?’

As if she could forget! ‘That’s when I first knew I loved you,’ Imogen said, loving the feeling of being held tight against his hard, solid body. Of feeling safe. Of feeling cherished. ‘I meant every word I said that day and I’m like you, I keep my promises.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Tom. ‘So shall we make it legal and get married properly?’

Imogen’s eyes were shining as she tipped back her head and smiled up at him. ‘Yes, let’s do that,’ she said, and the warmth in his expression as he smiled back made her heart turn over.

‘And where would you like to go on honeymoon?’ he asked.

Imogen laughed, remembering how he had asked her that once before on a wet January day. ‘We’ve already had a honeymoon!’

‘We’ll have another,’ said the workaholic. ‘I’ll arrange it all. It just so happens that I know the perfect place…’

The old man was waiting for them on the sandbar, just like before. The sky was flushed with a gold that was just beginning to burn red. Tom took Imogen’s hand and they walked across the sand towards him.

They had been married the week before in the little church in the village where Imogen had grown up. That had been a traditional wedding, and a very happy day, surrounded by family and friends, but the ceremony on the sandbar was just for the two of them.

It was six months since they had last been on Coconut Island, but the lagoon was as beautiful as ever. They spent their days just as they had done before, and in the evenings they sat on the veranda and watched the bats come out after sunset. It was all just the same-except this time Tom was her husband, not her boss, and Imogen hadn’t known it was possible to be this happy.

Imogen had loved her wedding, but deep down it felt as if it wasn’t until they had been through this ceremony again that she and Tom would really be married. She was wearing the wedding dress that had looked elegant and summery in the village church, but which she had chosen with the sandbar in mind. This time she was barefoot, and the chiffon layers stirred around her in the light ocean breeze as she laced her fingers with Tom’s and stepped into the circle with him.

This time there was no hesitation, no awkwardness.

This time it was real.

If the old man thought it was odd that they were apparently renewing their vows so soon, he gave no sign of it. He went through the ceremony with quiet dignity and this time every word resonated along Imogen’s veins.

‘Love each other, be true to each other, find peace in each other,’ he finished at last. ‘Find joy in each other always.’

Tom and Imogen smiled as they drew together for a kiss. ‘We will,’ they said.