Honeymoon with the Boss

  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.

  Jessica Hart

  Jessica Hart was born in West Africa, and has suffered from itchy feet ever since, traveling and working around the world in a wide variety of interesting but very lowly jobs. All of them have provided inspiration on which to draw when it comes to the settings and plots of her stories. Now she lives a rather more settled existence in York, U.K., where she has been able to pursue her interest in history, although she still yearns sometimes for wider horizons. If you’d like to know more about Jessica, visit her Web site at www.jessicahart.co.uk.

  ***

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