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
‘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…
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
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.
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.
