She agreed to meet her groom for the first time...

at the altar.

That was her first mistake. Because imagine Imogene’s shock when she comes face-to-face with Valentin Horvath, her ex-husband! According to the matchmaker’s “expert” advice, they are 100 percent perfect for each other. No refunds. At least their mutual attraction is still alive and kicking. But will the secrets and misconceptions that torpedoed their last marriage sink this one...or save it?

Award-winning USA TODAY bestselling author YVONNE LINDSAY has always preferred the stories in her head to the real world. Married to her blind-date sweetheart and with two adult children, she spends her days crafting the stories of her heart. In her spare time she can be found with her nose firmly in someone else’s book.

Also by Yvonne Lindsay

Honor-Bound Groom

Stand-In Bride’s Seduction

For the Sake of the Secret Child

Arranged Marriage, Bedroom Secrets

Contract Wedding, Expectant Bride

Tangled Vows

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Inconveniently Wed

Yvonne Lindsay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09201-2

INCONVENIENTLY WED

© 2018 Dolce Vita Trust

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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I wouldn’t be here without my wonderful readers,

so this story is for you. Thank you for all your

support and kind words through the years.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

About the Publisher

One

“It’s going to be okay, Mom.” Imogene hastened to reassure her mother for the thousandth time.

She had no doubt her mom remembered all too well the broken woman Imogene had been when she’d returned from volunteering in Africa with her first marriage and all her hopes and dreams in tatters. But as she’d told her mom several times, things were going to be completely different this time around. This marriage would be based on mutual compatibility after an intense clinical assessment by a team of relationship counselors and psychologists—absolutely nothing impractical about that. She’d done the passionate love thing. Experienced the soaring highs of love at first sight and barely made it through the devastating lows of discovering it had all been a lie. This way, at least, nothing would go wrong.

“Ready?” the wedding planner asked in her perfectly calming and well-modulated voice.

Imogene smoothed a hand down her gown, the silk-and-organza creation a far cry from the borrowed cocktail dress she’d worn to her last wedding, and nodded. “Absolutely.”

The wedding planner gave her a wide smile, then indicated to the pianist to change his music for the bride’s entrance. Imogene hesitated at the door. Then, taking her mother’s hand, she began to walk slowly and confidently toward the man she was going to build a future and create a much-longed-for family with. A serene smile wreathed her face as she briefly made eye contact with her friends and the sprinkling of extended family who’d made the trip to the West Coast from New York. The formality of signing the license application could be done separately here in Washington, which kept to the Match Made in Marriage rules of meeting at the altar. This was the right thing for an old-fashioned girl with old-fashioned values to do, she assured herself. This time she wasn’t leaving anything to chance. This time, she was getting it right.

The last time Imogene had married, she’d been filled with excitement together with a crazy-mad dose of lust. And look how that turned out, the little voice inside her head reminded her. She grimaced slightly. Today was different. There was no bubbling excitement, beyond a quiet curiosity as to exactly what her groom would be like, and there was certainly no lust. At least not yet.

No, this time she was not a victim of the dizzying heights of passion—a passion that had blurred her sensibilities, not to mention her common sense. This time she had a specific goal in mind. A family of her own. Yes, she knew she could take steps to be a parent by herself, but she didn’t want to do it alone. She truly wanted a like-minded companion. Someone she could grow to love over time. Someone with whom she could be sure that love would have longevity, if only because of the time it took to grow. And if love didn’t come? Could she live without it? Of course she could. She’d done the impulsive marriage before, and it had left her shattered when it all fell apart. This time she’d taken every precaution to ensure there would be none of that. With care and mutual respect, anything was possible.

But was marrying at first sight taking things a step too far? Her parents obviously thought so. Her father hadn’t even come to Port Ludlow, here in Washington, for the ceremony, citing an important human rights case he was working on. But his distaste for her entering into an agreement with the exclusive matchmaking agency, which discreetly boasted a 100 percent success rate, had been clear. To him the very prospect of meeting your husband or wife at the altar was a recipe for disaster, but the dictates of Match Made in Marriage were clear. There was no chance to meet your intended prior to the ceremony and both participants had to put their trust completely in the matchmaking process. Imogene took a quick look at her mom, who had agreed to accompany her only daughter down the aisle to marry a stranger. Caroline O’Connor looked back, her gaze meeting and melding with her daughter’s—concern for what Imogene was doing clearly reflected there.

Her eyes were glued to her groom waiting at the altar with his back turned, a man whose posture showed he was the kind of person used to being in command. A frisson of awareness tickled at the back of her neck. As they neared the front row, her mom hesitated and bestowed a swift kiss on Imogene’s cheek before taking her seat. Imogene took a deep breath and focused anew on the stranger standing there. Waiting for her. There was something about the set of his shoulders and the shape of his head that prodded at her memory. Something that wasn’t right.

As he turned around, disbelief flooded every cell in her body and she stopped a few feet from the altar.

Recognition dawned.

“No,” she breathed out in shock. “Not you.”

Imogene barely heard the groan of “Not again” that came from the groom’s side of the room. Instead, her gaze was fixed on the man who’d finally turned to face her.

Valentin Horvath.

The man she’d divorced seven years ago.

There should have been some satisfaction that his expression was equally as stunned as her own must be, but there was none. In fact, satisfaction took a back seat while anger and confusion vied for supremacy. Imogene stood rooted to the spot, staring at the man she’d shared more intimacies with than any other human being in existence. The man who had not only broken her heart, but crushed it so completely that it had taken her all this time to even contemplate marriage again.

And yet, beneath the anger, beneath the implacable certainty that there was no way this marriage could go ahead, was that all-too-familiar flicker of sexual recognition that had led to their first hasty, fiery and oh-so-short union. Imogene did her best to quell the sensations that bloomed to life inside her traitorous body, to ignore the sudden flush of heat that simmered from deep inside and radiated outward. To pay no heed to the way her nipples had grown tight and hypersensitive in the French lace bustier she wore beneath her strapless gown. It was merely a physiological response to a healthy male, she told herself. It meant nothing.

He meant nothing.

Valentin reached a hand toward her.

“No,” she repeated. “This is not happening.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said her ex-husband very firmly. “Let’s get out of here.”

He took her by the elbow and she reluctantly allowed him to lead her toward a side room—all the while fighting to disregard the realization that they might have been apart all these years but the fire that always burned so fiercely between them had reignited just like that. Her skin warmed where his hand lightly cupped her elbow, her senses keenly attuned to the size of him, to the heat that emanated from his large form, to the scent he still wore. A scent that she’d tried her hardest to forget but that seemed to be indelibly imprinted on her limbic system.

An older woman with a cloud of silver hair and alert blue eyes rose from her seat in the front row of the groom’s side of the room.

“Valentin?”

“Nagy,” he said in acknowledgment. “I think you need to come with us. You have some explaining to do.”

Some explaining to do? Imogene’s brow creased in ever-growing confusion. She recognized the diminutive of the Hungarian word for grandmother from back when Valentin used to talk about his family. But how could his grandmother have anything to do with this?

“Yes, I believe I do,” replied the old woman in a firm voice. She turned to appease the assembled guests with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, everyone, we’ll be back shortly.”

Back shortly? Imogene doubted that very much, but she allowed Valentin to guide her along in his grandmother’s wake as she walked purposefully ahead of them.

“Explain yourself,” Valentin demanded, rounding on his grandmother the moment she closed the door behind them.

“I did exactly what you asked me to do. I found you a wife.”

“I don’t understand,” Imogene interjected.

Valentin didn’t understand, either. The brief he’d given Alice had been pretty straightforward. He wanted a wife and he wanted a family. After his first failed attempt seven years ago, when he’d thrown his usual logic to the four corners of the world and leaped before looking, he’d decided to take a more rational approach. He did not—in any way, shape or form—expect to see his ex-wife approach him here today. No matter how much more beautiful she’d grown in the years since he’d last seen her.

He took a moment to fill his gaze with the vision of loveliness that was his ex. She hadn’t changed that much. Not her dark auburn hair that so richly adorned her head or her green-gray eyes that snapped angrily at him now or her smooth alabaster skin that had always shown every mark from his five o’clock shadow—making it necessary for him to shave twice a day when they were together. He’d have done anything for her, once—shaving twice a day was the least of it. But all that was in the past, and would remain there.

He transferred his attention to his grandmother, who composed herself with her usual grace and instinctive air of command before speaking.

“Imogene, let me explain a little. But first, please, take a seat. And, Valentin, that means you, too. You know I can’t tolerate your pacing. You always did have ants in your pants, even as a child.”

Valentin bit back the retort that in this case, he had every right to pace. Instead, he gestured to Imogene to take a chair in the small side office and took another for himself. They were close enough that he could smell her fragrance. It was something different from what she used to wear but no less potent when it came to his senses. He used his customarily rigid control to ignore the way the scent teased at him, inviting him to lean a little nearer, to inhale more deeply, and instead focused on watching his grandmother.

Alice settled herself behind the desk and rested her age-spotted hands on the blotter in front of her. She took her time to speak, obviously choosing her words carefully.

“I would like to remind you both that you have signed a contract to marry today.”

“Not him!”

“Not her!”

Their responses were simultaneous and equally emphatic.

“I don’t recall either of you stating any exclusions when you approached Match Made in Marriage. Do you?” She arched one silver brow and gave them each a pointed look. “No, of course not. Because when you signed the contracts with Match Made in Marriage, you gave us an undertaking to find you your ideal life partner. Which I—” she hesitated and corrected herself “—we did.”

“What?” Imogene gasped and turned her gaze on Valentin. “Your grandmother is a part of all this?”

He nodded. “She is. And she’s usually very good at it, but in our case, she’s clearly made a mistake.”

Alice sighed and rolled her eyes. “I do not make mistakes, Valentin. Never, and especially not in this case.”

“You can’t seriously begin to expect me to believe that,” he responded, his voice rising in frustration. “We ended our marriage seven years ago due to irreconcilable differences.”

“Infidelity,” Imogene injected into the conversation. “Yours.”

Valentin held on to his temper by a thread. “As I said, irreconcilable differences. As far as I am aware nothing else has changed between us, so I fail to see how Imogene became my perfect match. Your instincts have failed you this time.”

“Instincts?” Imogene’s voice ran cold. “I was of the understanding matches are made using specialists, not mumbo jumbo. Doesn’t that put you in breach of contract, Mrs. Horvath?”

Valentin watched his grandmother level a considering look at his ex-wife.

“You will find that the ‘mumbo jumbo’ as you so dismissively call it is well-defined under clause 24.2.9 subparagraph a. I believe the term has been set out as ‘subjective assessment by Match Made in Marriage.’”

“That’s ridiculous,” Imogene protested.

“May I remind you that no one forced you to sign the contract,” Alice said in a voice that dripped icicles.

“Either way,” Valentin interrupted before Imogene could let fly a volley of words that he imagined were hovering on the edge of her tongue, “what you have done is gross manipulation of us both. This doesn’t need to become uncivil. Contracts can be broken. I think I speak for both Imogene and myself when I say this marriage will go not ahead.”

“And I speak for Match Made in Marriage when I say it definitely will. You are right for each other.”

“Impossible!” Imogene snorted inelegantly. “I specifically said that infidelity was a deal breaker. If my prospective partner could not promise to remain faithful to me, I could not contemplate marriage with him. What about that was not clear?”

“I was not unfaithful,” Valentin protested in frustration.

They’d gone over this already seven years ago. But Imogene’s refusal to accept his word, and his promise to her, had seen her walk out on him without so much as a backward glance. In fact, for her, at least, it had been all too easy to call an end to their life together. To the dreams they’d shared, let alone the passion. Still, he’d reminded himself often in those early days, it was better he’d found out her lack of staying power then, rather than later when there may have been children to consider, as well.

“Stop behaving like a pair of squabbling children!” Alice admonished them both. “Your pairing was ascertained after rigorous testing. There is no one else more perfect for each of you than each other. Now, Valentin, do you trust me?”

“I’m not so sure about that anymore, to be completely honest with you, Nagy.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw.

“Well, that’s regrettable,” Alice said on a sniff of disapproval. “But perhaps you will realize the error of your ways. You can have a successful marriage despite how unfortunately your last attempt at being a couple ended.”

“A-attempt?” Imogene spluttered. “You say that as if I made the decision to leave Valentin lightly, when I can assure you I did not.”

Alice waved a slender hand in the air as if Imogene’s words were of no consequence. “The facts here today remain that you each requested a life partner when you contracted Match Made in Marriage. All the data gleaned during your screening process supports my—our—decision to match you. I’m aware you two have issues—”

“I-issues?” It was Valentin’s turn to splutter now.

“Hear me out, please,” Alice commanded with a quelling glare at him. “Can you both honestly say that seeing each other again leaves you totally cold?”

Valentin shifted a little in his chair, all too aware that his physical reaction to Imogene when he’d seen her today had been as fierce and as instant as it had ever been. He still remembered the first time he’d met her, when she’d brought a child from her primary school into the ER where he was a trauma specialist. Even as he’d switched into his clinician’s role seamlessly, he hadn’t remained unmoved by her presence. Now, with her seated beside him, studiously avoiding his gaze when he turned to look at her again, he observed the proud posture of her slender body and the surprisingly determined line of her jaw. A jaw he’d traced with kisses. His body clenched on a surge of desire—his instinctive need for her as overwhelming as it had ever been—and he turned his stare back to his grandmother.

“No, I cannot,” he said with great reluctance.

“And, Imogene? When you realized it was Valentin waiting at the altar for you today? How did you feel when you saw him?”

“Confused,” she said bluntly.

“And?” Alice prompted.

“Fine, I was attracted to him. But attraction isn’t the only thing necessary to make a marriage work. We proved that already.”

“Yes, you did,” Alice conceded. “But since that attraction still burns between you, don’t you think you owe it to yourselves to find out if, under different circumstances from those in which you originally met, you can make an honest attempt at a good marriage?”

“I believed I was making more than an attempt at the time,” Imogene protested. “I loved Valentin with all my heart. A heart he subsequently broke.”

Alice sighed and leaned back in her chair, settling her hands in a loose clasp in her lap. “I see,” she acknowledged. “And it still hurts, doesn’t it?”

Imogene gave Alice a stiff nod.

“Then you still have unresolved feelings for my grandson, don’t you?”

Valentin made a sound of protest. “Nagy, that’s not fair. She made her decision a long time ago. You can’t make us do this. It’s cruel and unnecessary.”

“It’s never easy facing your failures,” Alice said, slowly and stiffly rising from her seat. “I will leave you two for a few minutes to discuss this further. I strongly urge you to give your marriage one more chance. Your circumstances have changed dramatically since then. Neither of you is as young or as volatile as you were and, I might point out, neither of you has found a more suitable mate since. Please, discuss this as rational adults. Be certain that you won’t spend the rest of your lives wondering if you should have given each other another chance. I will wait outside for your decision. Don’t make me wait too long.”

Two

The door closed as Alice left them alone in the room.

“She’s a piece of work, your grandmother,” Imogene said harshly. “How dare she do this?”

“She dares because it’s what she does.”

Imogene rose from her chair, her gown whispering with her rapid movement and her breasts heaving above the jeweled neckline.

“What she does? Seriously? You’re condoning her behavior?” Imogene forced a short laugh from her throat. It was either that or scream.

“No, I’m not condoning it. I’m as angry and as shocked as you are. I never thought in a million years...”

She stared at Valentin as he rose to his feet and faced her. Always a big man, he dwarfed the room, but she wasn’t scared of him. She knew all too well how gentle he could be—how tender his touch was. Her pulse kicked up a beat and she fiercely quelled the direction of her thoughts. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for.

“A million years wouldn’t be long enough,” she murmured, and turned her face from his piercing blue-eyed gaze.

No, she thought. The end of time wouldn’t be long enough to undo the ravages of their first union. He’d taken her love, her adoration, her heart. Then he’d thrown it all away. She’d never forget that moment she’d walked into their small house and smelled the distinctive heady perfume one of his colleagues at the hospital had always worn. Nor would she forget walking on legs that had become stiff and wooden toward the bedroom where she’d discovered said colleague, still naked and drowsy in her and Valentin’s bed.

The sheets of the bed had been tumbled in disarray. The combined scents of fresh sweat and sex had been heavy on the air. Imogene had heard the sound of the shower running in the tiny bathroom down the hall but she hadn’t waited to see her husband. When his colleague Carla had asked if she was looking for Valentin and gestured to the bathroom, she’d turned on her heel and marched straight back through town and stopped at the first law office she’d seen.

Numbly she’d gone through the motions of filing to dissolve the marriage that had obviously meant so little to Valentin and yet had meant the world to her. He had meant the world to her. Until she’d been faced with his infidelity.

She’d been in such a state of shock. Was it possible she’d misunderstood Carla? But then again, if she had, why had Valentin so easily given her up? If he was as innocent as he protested himself to be, why—at any time in the next few weeks—didn’t he find her at the hotel she moved her things into until she could be released from her teaching contract and get the next flight back to the States? Instead, he’d simply let her go, which smacked of a guilty conscience to her—both then and now. Besides, she didn’t want to think for a minute that she’d made a mistake, or that she’d behaved rashly in the heat of the moment. Carla had had no reason to lie, and Imogene knew the other woman and Valentin had been an item before her own arrival in Africa. Valentin himself had told her. More fool her, she’d believed him when he’d said it was over—that Imogene was the only woman for him.

She was dragged back into the present by the sound of Valentin clearing his throat.

“So I’m guessing you’re a no, then?”

“You’re guessing right,” she answered adamantly.

“Not even prepared to think about it?” he coaxed.

“Not even,” she said firmly. “I will not marry a philanderer ever again.”

“Imogene.” He said her name softly, with a tone of regret lacing the three syllables together in a way that struck her at her core. “I was never unfaithful to you.”

“I know what I saw, Valentin. Don’t take me for a complete idiot.”

He shoved a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “What you saw was—”

“Your mistress, curled up in my sheets, in my bed, and stinking of you!” she answered viciously.

“It wasn’t what you thought it was.”

“Oh, so now you’re going to tell me you never slept with her?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, but I told you the truth when I said that had all been in the past. I was never unfaithful to you,” he affirmed.

“You say one thing. I saw another.”

Valentin took a step toward her and she took a step back, but her motion was halted by the wall behind her. She looked up at him, her nostrils flaring, her mouth drying as she studied his oh-so-familiar features. Involuntarily, she stared at the lines that had deepened around his eyes, the new ones on his forehead, the stubble that persistently made its presence felt even though he would have shaved only a short time ago. His face had been so dear to her once. If she closed her eyes now she could recall every aspect of it—the color of his eyes in exquisite detail, the short dark lashes that intently framed those eyes, the way that special shade of blue darkened and deepened when he was aroused. The way they were doing now.

A bolt of desire hit her. There had never been any other man who had this effect on her. Ever. Only Valentin. No one had ever come close to him, nor, she admitted ruefully, would again. Which left her between the devil and the deep blue sea, didn’t it? Go against everything she’d promised herself she would never accept, or settle for less than what she knew Valentin could give her.

“Can we call a truce?” Valentin asked, his voice husky.

She knew that sound, knew he was gripped by the same intense need for her that she suffered for him. But in her case it was only for him. Could he say the same? She doubted it.

“Maybe,” she answered reluctantly.

“What brought you here today?” he asked.

“You tell me first,” she insisted, unwilling to show any weakness to this man who’d had the power to love her forever or destroy her, yet had chosen the latter.

“Fine,” he said abruptly. “When I asked Nagy to find me a wife, I had a clear picture in mind. I wanted a companion, someone to come home to at the end of the day who I can share my innermost thoughts with. Someone, most of all, who wants a child, or children. After you left me, I thought I could live my life without a family of my own, but as I grow older I find I can’t see a future without a wife and children in it, nor do I want to be alone for the balance of my days. I guess it’s part of the human condition to want to be a part of something, to know a part of you will continue long after you’re gone.”

Imogene felt unexpected tears prick at her eyes. The words he’d chosen, his reasons for being here today, they were so similar to her own. How could they have this in common and yet be so wrong for each other at the same time?

Valentin continued, “Is that why you approached Nagy’s company, too?”

“If I’d known it was your grandmother’s company, I would have run in the other direction as fast as I could,” she said defiantly. But then she softened, the fight spilling out of her. “Yes,” she said simply. “That’s exactly why I signed my contract. I want children in my life. Not just other people’s children. My own. To love. Unconditionally. But more than that, I want a partner. Someone I can rely on. Someone I can trust.”

Trust.

The word hung on the air between them. Valentin drew in a deep breath. Trust had been in short supply back in Africa, and not just within his marriage. All around them had been the constant threat of danger as a struggling government fought against corruption on every level. Even within the hospital there had been those he knew he could not rely on.

“Trust is a two-way street, is it not?” he asked gently.

“Always. You never had any reason not to trust me, Valentin. Ever.”

“Whereas you feel you cannot trust me. That’s what you’re saying?”

“Based on past experience, what else can I say? You broke our marriage vows, not I.”

The old frustration and anger bubbled from deep inside. She wouldn’t listen to him back then; he doubted she’d listen to him now.

“So that leaves us at a stalemate, doesn’t it? Unless you’re prepared to put the past aside.”

Imogene looked at him incredulously. “You think I should just forget you screwed another woman in our bed?” She deliberately chose strong language, not prepared to soften what he’d done by describing it with any moniker associated with the word love. “Just put it aside as if it didn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter because it never happened. Did you see me that day, Imogene? No, because I wasn’t there. You wouldn’t give me a chance to talk to you before having that lawyer serve papers on me. Perhaps you will at least do me that courtesy now.” He pressed on, knowing he had a captive audience. It had bothered him intensely that Imogene never allowed him the opportunity to present his side of what she thought she’d seen. If anything it had underscored how wrong they’d been for each other that she’d been prepared to cast him in the villain’s role so immediately. “Look, I know you were shocked to discover Carla in our house, let alone our bed. When I gave her the key to the place it was supposed to be so she could get some sleep between shifts because the doctors’ lounge had been appropriated for more patient beds. You know the crazy hours we were working and the volume of patients we had to deal with. Carla was overdue a break and I said she could use our place because it was close to the hospital. I didn’t know she planned to have company. Imogene, I barely got to see you. If I had free time, why would I have spent it with her?”

“Why indeed,” Imogene answered with an arch of her brow and a lift of her chin.

He let go a huff of irritation. “I wasn’t the one with her that day.”

“That’s not what she led me to believe.”

“She told you I was there?”

Imogene hesitated. Replayed the words in her head as she’d done so very many times before.

“Not in so many words,” Imogene conceded.

“And yet you still don’t believe me.”

“I don’t. I can’t.”

Hearing the underlying pain in her words made Valentin think again. She sounded as though she were in an internal battle. That maybe, just maybe, she wanted to believe him. He wondered how he’d feel in the same situation. Torn. Confused. And facing the realization that if she believed him, then that would have made the past seven years of loneliness and sorrow, the end of their marriage, all her fault. But it wasn’t. While he had never been unfaithful to Imogene, he knew he should have done more at the time to fight for their marriage—followed after her, insisted she see him instead of letting her hide in the only decent hotel in town until she flew out.

He knew Carla could be intimidating. The woman had a confidence many women he’d met lacked. She’d set her sights on Valentin as soon as he’d arrived on his volunteer service and they’d had a brief, intense fling. It wasn’t until Imogene came on the scene that Carla had begun to eye him again, and she’d made it clear to everyone, Imogene included, that he was hers for the taking. But Carla had been wrong. From the minute Valentin had seen Imogene there had been only one woman for him.

She still was that woman.

Admitting that didn’t come easily. Pride had always been an issue for him. A child prodigy, he wasn’t used to making mistakes. His world had been filled with successes, each more glowing than the last. His failed marriage to Imogene had been the one black mark on the pristine blotter of his life. It was something he felt bound to rectify. If he could persuade her to give him, them, another chance, then maybe they could make things work.

His grandmother’s words repeated in the back of his mind. Be certain that you won’t spend the rest of your lives wondering if you should have given each other another chance. Would he regret it if he didn’t try again? Looking at Imogene now, resplendent in her bridal gown—the same woman who’d stood with him in a hurried civil ceremony all that time ago, and yet different in subtle ways he ached to explore—he knew the answer to that was a solid, unequivocal yes.

He chose his next words carefully. “So is there nothing I can do to persuade you to consider marrying me again?”

“I can’t believe you even want to think about us marrying again,” she shot back.

“Why not? Let’s remove emotion from the equation and try to look at this logically. We both approached marriage this time in a more clinical fashion, and yet look at us. Here together again. Let’s not discount the science that went into our pairing.”

“Science!” She snorted in disbelief. “More like your grandmother’s tampering with the results.”

“And why would she do that if it would only make us unhappy?”

He knew he had made his point when she conceded.

“So what are you suggesting? That we give this a go? I’ll be honest with you, Valentin. I don’t hold hopes for things being any different than they were the first time. We may have gotten along in bed, but we had very little in common outside of it. Carla aside, and as difficult as it is to admit, I don’t think we’d have lasted the distance. We met in a hothouse of extreme circumstances. It wasn’t a normal relationship in any sense of the word.”

“Then why not give it a chance and see how we do in a more traditional setting? We’re unlikely to find another match that can make us both feel like this,” he said, before reaching out one finger and tracing the line of her lower lip.

Shock and desire warred with each other as he felt her softness. Her warmth. The gasp of heated breath as her lips parted. Every muscle in his body clenched in anticipation of closing the distance between them. Of tasting that tender flesh and discovering if she was still as sweet, and as tart, as she used to be. Valentin watched as a light flush colored Imogene’s cheeks and as her pupils dilated to almost consume her irises.

While she battled with her emotions, Valentin pressed on. “Imogene, look at it this way. We have a rock-solid prenup in force. We have a three-month out clause. What have we got to lose?”

He saw her internal battle reflected in her eyes. Heard it in her every ragged breath. Sensed the moment of weakness, the chink in her armor, and took the opportunity to drive straight through it.

“And children, Imogene. Think about the kids we would have together if it all worked out. The family we always wanted. I promise you, if you agree to marry me again, you won’t regret it. I will be faithful to you. I will see to it that I meet your every need as your husband and your life partner. I failed you last time. I never fought for you the way I should have, so I’m fighting for you now. I realize that I had tunnel vision when it came to my work, which left very little beyond the physical for you. I never saw the cracks when they appeared in our marriage. Never saw how vulnerable you had become. If I had been a better husband, you would never have jumped to the conclusion that I had been unfaithful. I won’t let that happen again if you give us another chance. What will your answer be? Will you marry me?”

Three

She said yes.

Alice Horvath couldn’t even begin to describe the sense of relief that overtook her when Valentin came out of the office and informed her the wedding would go ahead. She hadn’t wanted to believe it wouldn’t—she did, after all, trust her instincts wholeheartedly—and persuading others she was never wrong was rarely the issue, but it seemed that when it came to her grandsons, she was two for two, so far, on having her judgment questioned.

Valentin had gone to rejoin his brother, Galen, and a handful of cousins, who had congregated at the front of the function room. Alice took a moment to find her medication in her handbag before resuming her seat. This darned pain in her chest was becoming tiresome. She certainly didn’t have time for it now. She fought the urge to rub at it. It never did anything anyway. Ah, there was her pillbox. She popped a tablet under her tongue just as Imogene came out of the office.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Horvath?” she asked.

“I’m fine, my dear. And let me say that I’m so glad you’ve decided to go ahead with the wedding.”

“Let’s just say your grandson can be very persuasive.”

Alice looked at the younger woman carefully. It was easy to see why Valentin had been attracted to her in the first place. The dark auburn hair and delightful figure aside, Imogene O’Connor had a rare exquisite beauty that was very clearly underlined with a strong personality and bright intelligence. During her background checks, Alice had discovered that over the past seven years, Imogene had grown her early-childhood centers into a business that had just been franchised nationwide. She was a strong and independent young woman with a good head on her shoulders, but it was the emotional side of Imogene that intrigued Alice most. She knew Imogene had rarely dated after her return from Africa. Whether it was because she was too busy for a new relationship or that she simply wasn’t emotionally ready, Alice was glad the other woman hadn’t rushed headlong into someone and something else.

When Alice looked at Valentin, with his aloof and slightly dark nature, together with the bright flame of light this woman epitomized, she knew Imogene was unquestionably the yin to his yang. The computer data and her specialists had backed up her instincts completely. She would never have taken a risk with either of these young people’s happiness otherwise. Life was just too precious, as she was becoming all too well aware.

The tablet continued to dissolve under her tongue, and incrementally the angina that had become such a plague in recent months began to ease. Alice inhaled carefully, relieved to feel the last of the tightness disappear, and directed a smile at the beautiful bride in front of her.

“Shall we return to the ceremony?” she asked.

“Perhaps you could ask my mom to join me again,” Imogene said in a voice that was just a little indecisive. “I’d feel better with her beside me.”

“Certainly.” Alice turned to leave, then hesitated and looked back to Imogene before reaching out to take her hand and squeeze it lightly. “You won’t regret this, you know. It may not be an easy road back to loving each other the way you did before. In fact, I hope the two of you discover a different kind of love this time. Something stronger, something that will endure. That’s my wish for you and Valentin.”

“It remains to be seen.”

“Yes, it does. And it will take hard work from both of you.”

Imogene gave her a nod and Alice turned away. These two were going to have an interesting time of it—of that she was certain.

Imogene went through the motions, repeating the words uttered by the celebrant standing before her and listening to Valentin do the same. The service was simple, without the personal touches that it might have had if they’d planned this day together. In many ways it was about as detached as their first wedding had been, although the celebrant today tried to invest the ceremony with a great deal more joy than the slightly bored local official who’d performed their ceremony back in Africa.

Africa. She had to stop thinking about that time and comparing it to now. It was another world ago.

Today was a new beginning. One she’d agreed to pursue. She still wasn’t even certain how Valentin had persuaded her to go ahead with it. All she knew was that with that one touch of his fingertip to her lips, he’d reminded her of the incendiary attraction they’d shared. Just one fingertip and she’d made a decision that would affect her for the rest of her life. Her entire body had reacted, concentrated on that mere touch. No one else had ever had the ability to set her alight with the brush of a finger the way he did. Which was a good thing, she’d always told herself as she’d pointed her attentions into her career and into establishing, then expanding, her business. Dating had been, for lack of a better word, a bland experience once she’d decided to test the waters again. But that very blandness was what had put her in search of a matchmaking service that would find her something better than bland. Had she been unconsciously searching for a relationship like what she had with Valentin all along? The idea was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

And more important, now that she had agreed to go ahead, where would they go from here?

“You may now kiss your bride.”

The celebrant’s words penetrated her thoughts, dragging her back to the reality that was her wedding day. Her eyes flared wide as she caught Valentin’s smile and she froze in place. His eyes locked with hers, a serious expression reflecting back at her as he lifted her left hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her wedding finger.

“This is the ring you deserved all along,” he murmured before leaning closer.

She barely caught her breath before she felt the pressure of his lips against hers. Sensation bloomed through her like a starburst, radiating to the tips of her fingers and the soles of her feet, not to mention everywhere in between. She parted her lips in response, kissing him back instinctively. Her hand rested on his chest for a brief moment before sliding up to his neck. The texture of his slightly long hair against her fingers sent another jolt of awareness surging through her and she lifted slightly upward. Valentin’s arm curled around her waist, holding her to him.

It had always been like this between them. This intensity. This overwhelming need to be close. Closer still. As if the world began and ended with each other.

“Um, guys?” Valentin’s brother, Galen, interrupted them. “Care to leave something for the honeymoon?”

The gathered crowd laughed at his words and Valentin slowly drew away, leaving Imogene feeling more than a little stunned by what had just happened between them. Seven years. Actually, to be precise, seven years, three months, two weeks and five days since she’d walked out of his life. And still she was as hopelessly overcome by him.

“Are you okay?” Valentin asked gently, his arm still around her waist and his blue eyes searching her face for any signs of distress.

“Well, aside from my lipstick, which is probably demolished right now, I’m fine,” she said as coolly as she could manage given the rapid beat of her pulse and the tingling shocks that still lingered in parts of her body that hadn’t tingled in far too long.

He gave her a smile, took her hand again, and together they turned to face the assembly.

“I give you Mr. and Mrs. Horvath!” the celebrant triumphantly declared before surreptitiously wiping at his brow with a handkerchief.

They were married. Imogene couldn’t quite believe it. Her synapses were still somewhat fried by that kiss. But there was no mistaking the strong fingers that were wrapped around her own, nor the steady presence of the dark-suited man standing beside her. Her mother rushed forward, her cheeks still wet with tears, to congratulate them both. But as she drew back again she fixed Valentin with a stern eye.

“Don’t mess it up this time, young man. You’re lucky to get a second chance with my girl. Look after her.”

“I will,” Valentin promised.

Imogene felt a sting of embarrassment at her mother’s words, but the gentle pressure of Valentin’s hand signaled he’d taken no offense. She knew her mother would never understand why she’d made her choice to go ahead today. But then again, maybe she would. After all, her own husband had conducted many, albeit discreet, affairs during their marriage. Which was another reason Imogene had felt so strongly about infidelity. She’d always wondered why her mother had agreed to settle for less than 100 percent from her husband. Why she’d allowed other women to fill his life, where she rightly belonged. But then again her mother accepted a lot of things in the pursuit of her ordered life. Heavily involved in charity work, she enjoyed the distinction of being married to a leading international human rights lawyer. Of being perceived as calm and unflappable and the perfect hostess at all times. Imogene had learned early in her life that she wanted far more than that when she married. And she’d thought she had it with Valentin when they’d fallen so instantly and passionately in love.

Could they achieve that together again? She thought of the words Alice had spoken to her just before the ceremony, about it not being an easy road back to loving each other again. Could they even hope to love each other again? she wondered. When she’d agreed to go ahead with this, the only thing she’d locked her mind onto was her main goal in this entire venture. A child, or children, of her own to love. But to love her husband, too? She flickered a glance up at Valentin. She wasn’t sure if she could trust herself to trust him again, let alone love him.

Her insides clenched at the idea of making a baby. He’d made it patently clear he wanted children, too. Would that be enough to be the glue that would hold them together?

He also told you he was never unfaithful to you, a snide voice whispered in the back of her mind. In fact, he’d been adamant on that point, promising she had nothing to fear on that score. She wished she could believe him. Her eyes had told her a different story seven years ago. But she couldn’t think about that now. She’d made her choice. She’d agreed to marry him and agreed that once their three-month trial period was up, if they were still together, they’d start trying for their family. And until then, she could only wait and see.

Valentin fought his frustration. He was never good with crowds, and this crowd was too happy, too noisy and very much too in his face. He had to concede that everyone here was celebrating his wedding, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. Not when every cell in his body urged him to take Imogene by the hand again and whisk her to where the helicopter waited on the expansive lawn outside so they could head to SeaTac, and then in one of the Horvath private jets to Rarotonga for their honeymoon. He couldn’t wait for that part, but even though that kiss to seal their marriage had been better than everything he’d remembered, he knew that this time he and Imogene needed to tread carefully if they were going to make their union work.

He had no intention of creating a family without a strong foundation based on love and genuine trust in each other, no matter how well they survived the initial three-month trial period of their marriage. He wouldn’t do that to her, nor would he do that to any child they might have. Their future happiness hinged on one thing: rebuilding Imogene’s trust in him as her life partner. He had to do whatever it took if this was going to work. But it couldn’t all be one way. He needed to be certain she was working just as hard on their future as he was. That she wouldn’t run out on him again.

Losing her the first time had been crippling. He’d coped the only way he knew how, by throwing himself into things he could control, to a degree anyway. He’d signed on for another volunteer contract and did longer clinics, more surgeries and, even under the growing threat of civil war, more visits out into the bush. Some might say he’d had a death wish, because the political climate in the nation had become wildly volatile—driving many volunteers out—but for Valentin it allowed him to focus on what needed to be done and to tuck away the pain of distrust and abandonment that Imogene had left in her wake.

He looked across the room, to where she circulated among her friends. God, she was beautiful. But physical beauty aside, he knew she had depths he had yet to discover. Depths they’d never imagined of each other the first time around. And now they had another opportunity. When he’d seen her today he’d been shocked, but instinct had taken over. And while logic had protested, his body had rejoiced.

All of which brought him back to his thoughts of only a moment ago. He couldn’t give in to that powerful pull they had between them. If he kissed her again, the way he truly wanted to, there was no way he’d be capable of pulling away.

Imogene’s face lit up on a burst of laughter as one of her friends said something amusing. Again he felt the knot deep in his gut. He was going to have to do some serious workouts to burn off the sexual energy that had taken his body hostage since seeing Imogene again, because they had to take things slowly this time—to truly begin to know and understand each other better before losing themselves in physical sensations.

“So, having second thoughts?”

Valentin turned to face his brother, Galen. “No, should I?”

“I have to say I was worried there for a while at the beginning. I’d have laid odds that today wasn’t about to go ahead and that my staff would be eating cake for the rest of the week.”

Galen was head of the Horvath chain of resorts and was based here in Washington. Valentin allowed himself a small smile.

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t have to inflict that on them.”

Galen looked at him. “Something’s different. Are you okay?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know exactly. You were looking forward to this marriage, I know that much. But I was certain that when Imogene came down the aisle you would put a stop to it. You both seemed so adamant about it not going ahead. What changed your mind? Don’t tell me Nagy put a spell on you both,” Galen finished with a laugh.

Valentin paused for a moment. With his brother, he’d always been honest. With his cousin Ilya, too. The three men had grown up close. But for some reason he didn’t want to put into actual words what had come over him when he’d made the decision to try to persuade Imogene to go ahead with the wedding.

“Maybe she did.” It was all he would concede. “But it’s early days yet. We have our three-month trial period to get through.”

“You say that as if you don’t believe it’ll be easy.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is. We both know that, right? And Imogene and I have a lot of work to do. Deep down she still believes I was unfaithful to her.”

Galen spluttered his disbelief. “As if. You are the most loyal man I’ve ever known. So, who does she think you had an affair with?”

“One of the doctors I worked with.”

“Was she hot?”

“Oh, yes, she’s hot.”

Galen stiffened beside him. “As in present-tense hot?”

He could always rely on his brother to be quick to pick up an unspoken thread. “Yes. As in she works for me now as head of research and development in New York.”

Galen let out a slow whistle. “That could prove to be an issue. Have you told Imogene yet?”

“No, and I’m hoping we can overcome that before it becomes a problem.”

“Well, if anyone can, you can, my brother. You deserve to be happy. I just hope that Imogene is the one you can find that happiness with.”

“As do I. As do I.”

Four

The jet was impressive; it even had its own master suite complete with luxury bathroom. Imogene wondered about the wisdom of having a bubble bath at thirty-six thousand feet but then pushed the idea aside. Right now, weariness dragged at every cell in her body and her mind. All she wanted to do was rest. She looked at the wide bed in the master bedroom and the expanse of fine Egyptian cotton that covered it. She knew it was fine because she’d touched it, her fingertips sliding over the silky softness of the high-thread-count fabric in absolute delight.

Valentin entered the room behind her.

“Tired?” he asked as he tugged his cravat loose from his throat.

“Shattered,” she replied, feeling herself physically wilt.

It had been a tough day on so many levels, not least of which was discovering she was still powerfully attracted to her ex-husband. Well, new husband. She would never have believed he could talk her into agreeing to go ahead, but he’d been so convincing, almost making her believe that maybe she’d made a mistake all those years ago. That maybe she should have waited and listened before reacting. But then, given her own family situation, and her vehemence about never being in the same position as her mom, was it any surprise she’d reacted the way she had? Faced with the same situation, heaven forbid, wouldn’t she do the same again?

She looked up at Valentin and saw the lines of strain on his face.

“You must be worn-out, too. I remember you never were one for grand social occasions.”

“You remember correctly. Look, we have just over fourteen hours before we get to Rarotonga. We should get some sleep. Try to be fresh when we arrive at the Cook Islands.”

“Did you want to take the bed?” she offered. “I can sleep in the main cabin.”

“No, you take the bed. While you remember my discomfort with large social gatherings, I remember how you need to be comfortable to sleep.”

Imogene felt her cheeks color at his words and the images that rapidly filled her mind. Of the two of them in a narrow double bed doing anything but sleeping. Or when they did, and despite the intense heat of equatorial Africa, they curled so close together it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. She’d grown used to sleeping with him so quickly after they’d met, and it had taken her months before she’d stopped reaching for him in the dark after she’d returned to New York.

She averted her gaze before she suggested something stupid, like sleeping together again. After all, they were married and had a common goal of creating a family together. But even as she thought it, she knew she wasn’t ready to take that step. Not yet anyway.

“Thank you,” she finally managed. “Would you like to use the bathroom first?”

Valentin laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Us. We sound so damned civilized.”

She giggled. “Yes, we do. Surprising under the circumstances, when you think about it.”

“Shows we’re better people than we were before.” His eyes grew dark and serious. “I meant what I said back in that office, Imogene. Even more than the vows we exchanged. You won’t regret this.”

Imogene swallowed against the lump in her throat and gave him a small nod. She was beyond words, but she wasn’t beyond feeling, she discovered as he strode through to the well-appointed bathroom and closed the door behind him. After a few minutes she heard the shower begin to run. She groaned at the knowledge that he was naked, that water now coursed in strong rivulets over his body. A body she’d once known perhaps even better than her own. She slumped onto the bed and kicked off her shoes before tugging at the invisible side zipper on her gown. She stood again and let the gown drop to the floor before stepping out of it and picking it up again to gently fold it and lay it on an easy chair.

As she did so, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Dressed in a white lace-covered bustier and matching panties, together with white lace garters and sheer white stockings, she looked the epitome of bridal innocence. She touched the top of her thighs where her skin was exposed and felt a shiver course through her. Looks were one thing, but the actuality was quite another. Her entire body was attuned to every sound she could make out from the bathroom and it responded to the visual effects that her mind so willingly supplied.

The water snapped off and the sound propelled her into action. She grabbed her carry-on case and yanked out the robe she’d packed in there earlier. Had it only been this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago. She shook out the robe and gasped when she saw a shower of rose petals fall from the folds. The only person who could have sabotaged her things was her mom—she was the one Imogene had wanted with her all morning. And despite the lack of romance in her own marriage and her trepidation about the way Imogene had approached this one, Caroline had attempted to inject a little romance into her daughter’s day.

The door to the bathroom opened.

“You okay? I thought I heard you make a noise,” Valentin said, stepping through the doorway with a white towel wrapped around his hips.

All rational thought fled. The perfect lines of his body could have been carved by Michelangelo, except she knew that if she touched him he wouldn’t feel like cold marble. No, his skin would be hot, pliable and highly responsive to her caress. Every feminine instinct in her body clamored to be reacquainted with him. Intimately.

“Are those rose petals?” he asked, snapping her out of the seductive trance that threatened to take over her weary mind.

He drew closer and Imogene quickly shoved her arms in the sleeves of the robe and dragged it closed at her waist.

“Don’t rush on my account,” Valentin teased, the gleam in his eyes showing his appreciation of her attire.

“I’m sorry, I’ll clean them up. Mom must have—”

“Hey, don’t panic. It’s okay.” He reached out a steadying hand to her and clasped her forearm before she could bend down. “Relax, okay? I think a few rose petals are only to be expected with a bride and groom aboard, don’t you?”

Heat flared along her arm. Heat that tantalized and teased her already overwrought senses. Imogene pressed her lips together before answering, “But we’re not your typical bride and groom, are we?”

“We never were typical,” he agreed.

His words sent another rush of color to her cheeks. She groaned inwardly. Why did she continually blush around him? No one else had ever had the capacity to wring that kind of reaction from her before. She gestured to his towel.

“Are you planning to sleep in that?”

“It might give our cabin crew a bit of a shock if I did. No, I have some pajamas in my case. When you go to the bathroom I’ll change in here, if that’s okay.”

Ah, so they were back to being polite again. That suited her just fine. Right now she didn’t know what to think or say or do. All she knew was that she needed to create a bit of space between herself and Valentin before she did something stupid, like press her lips to the small brown discs of his nipples, or lick off that tiny droplet of water that followed the indentation of his abdomen.

“I’ll say good-night now, then,” she said stiffly and gathered up her toilet bag.

“Good night, Imogene,” Valentin replied.

His voice was gentle and deep and almost her undoing. It would take only a second to lift her face to his. To claim a good-night kiss. But if she did, she knew exactly where that would lead and she knew she definitely wasn’t ready for the ramifications of what would follow. Not mentally. Not yet.

Valentin looked out the aircraft window at the glorious coastline that appeared beneath them. Turquoise waters edged by foaming waves crashed against a reef that appeared to encircle the island they were approaching. As the plane drew lower still, he could make out white-sand beaches and towering palm trees that waved their fronds in the onshore breeze.

“Look at that,” he said to Imogene, gesturing outside.

“It’s beautiful,” she answered, leaning across him to get a better look. “And it’s certainly not like the New York winter we’ve left behind. Still, I guess, being in the southern hemisphere, it’s summer down here, right?”

He grunted in response, barely able to speak right now. Did she know her breast was pressed against his arm, he wondered, or realize what her closeness was doing to him? How her subtle fragrance invaded his mind and made him think all kinds of inappropriate things he’d rather be doing with her right now? Her very nearness was going to be a major test of his ability to practice abstinence while they worked toward understanding each other better. It was something they were going to need to discuss very soon or he’d go crazy.

He moved slightly and Imogene immediately pulled away.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

She fiddled with her seat belt, tugging at the strap and ensuring it was firmly done up.

“No problem,” he responded, even though her touch had rapidly become a problem for him, indeed. He gestured out the window again. “Looks like we’re coming in to land.”

Imogene reached for his hand. “Do you mind? I always get nervous.”

He curled his fingers around hers and was surprised at how tight her grip became as they descended through the clouds. “I never knew that about you.”

“Well, we’ve never flown together before, so I guess you never got the chance to find out.”

Her words came out lightly but he knew there was a lot more behind them.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “We didn’t get to know a lot about each other at all, did we?”

The wheels touched the tarmac and her grip tightened even more. The plane felt like it was fighting the brakes as they eventually began to slow down and taxied toward the terminal building. One of the cabin crew came toward them, a warm smile wreathing her pretty face.

“We’ll be disembarking soon,” she informed them. “Once the stairs are down I’ll come and get you and direct you to customs and immigration. It should only be a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Jenny,” Valentin acknowledged.

He felt Imogene disengage her fingers from his hand one by one.

“She’s attractive, isn’t she?” Imogene commented. “Do you know her well?”

Valentin shrugged, suddenly aware that any comment right now could be a potential minefield. “As well as I know any of the Horvath Aviation crews. I fly a lot with my work and I’ve gotten to know a few of them. Jenny’s husband, Ash, is one of our pilots. It’s company policy that if staff are a couple, they be assigned together whenever practical.”

He felt Imogene relax a little. Was it because she now knew that Jenny was married? Until that supposed incident with Carla, jealousy had never been an issue, but was it going to be an issue now? Obviously Imogene felt vulnerable—she’d taken a major leap of faith in marrying him again, but then again so had he.

As soon as they were settled into their accommodations they’d be having a serious discussion about the boundaries of this new marriage of theirs and what they each expected out of it. Failure wasn’t something that Valentin accepted, which was what had made him an excellent student, a brilliant doctor and an astute businessman. The fact that his first marriage had failed had always been a thorn in his side. He knew he’d been the innocent party all along but his failure in not being able to make Imogene see that had been hard to bear. Her insecurity had driven her away from him, which, in turn, meant he’d failed her. Now it was up to him to make sure she never felt that way again.

Before long they were descending the stairs of the aircraft and stepping onto the steaming-hot tarmac at the airport. It was a short walk to the small terminal building, and clearing customs and immigration took only a few minutes since they’d landed at a quiet time at the airport with no commercial airliners arriving or departing. The air around them was thick with humidity but a steady breeze blew off the nearby ocean and tugged at their clothing as they exited the terminal building to find a driver waiting for them with a sign.

“Kia orana!” the woman said in greeting as she slipped a lei of fragrant blooms around each of their necks. “Welcome to the Cook Islands. I’m Kimi and I’ll be your contact and your driver during your stay with us. Please, come with me.”

Valentin put a hand to Imogene’s elbow as they followed Kimi to a van. Their luggage was loaded in the back and in a few moments they were off. After twenty minutes they were at their destination: a secluded villa just back from the sand on a private lagoon.

“Everything here is at your disposal,” Kimi said expansively. “You have your own pool and you’ll find water toys to use in the lagoon in the shed behind those bushes. There’s an outdoor shower for you to use in complete privacy when you come back from the beach and if you need anything else here at the house, please just lift the phone over there and someone will handle your query. I’m available to drive you anywhere you want to go.

“There’s fruit and drinks in your kitchen, together with a few breakfast items, and you’re welcome to use the neighboring resort restaurants for breakfast and lunch and just charge it back to the villa. Tonight, dinner will be brought to you at seven. We can serve it here on the patio or down on the sand if you’d prefer, although we’re expecting a bit of a storm tonight. Oh, and there’s a car or scooters for you to use if you want to drive around the island yourselves. Just remember to keep left and watch your speed. It’s only thirty-two kilometers round-trip to get around the island, but you can take as long as you like. You’re on island time now.”

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