Page 164 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

‘Absolutely not! Just too casual, yeah?’

For a moment Dido found herself remembering just such a casual, beachside wedding.

The sun had been setting in hues of peach and amethyst, the air had been balmy, and while it had been simple and quiet, she’d believed it utterly perfect.

But that had been three years ago, when she’d been lamentably gullible. She’d long since lost that naivete.

Dido never thought of that day any more. She hated that the memory popped into her head now, unsettling her.

Because it’s the first time you’ve been back to an island paradise since.

Her finances and commitments had meant there’d been no dream destination holidays. No holidays at all.

Dido sucked in a slow breath, ignoring the painful jab of emotion behind her ribs, and concentrated on what her client was saying.

‘… the sand gets everywhere. It would cling to the bottom of my dress. Did I tell you it’s going to be trimmed with lace handmade by the dearest little Belgian nuns?’

‘That sounds stunning. I can’t wait to see it.’

No sand, she wrote. Perhaps they could lay a path to the beach. Some surface that would blend in perfectly with the colour of the sand.

Chiara was right, of course. A beach wedding meant sand, but three years ago Dido had merely thought it suitably romantic.

Fool!

‘I thought of an arch of flowers to frame us as we make our vows. But that’s been overdone.’ Chiara sipped her mud-coloured smoothie. ‘Then I thought helium balloons. But my man said no. They land in the ocean and sea turtles and things eat them and die. Though why they’d want to eat a balloon, I don’t know.’

Dido could have told her it was because the deflated balloons often looked like jellyfish to creatures searching for a meal.

But her attention was caught by the reference to Chiara’s fiancé. The man’s identity still hadn’t been mentioned, leaving speculation in the office that he was even more high-profile than Chiara and possibly in the final stages of ending a previous marriage.

Whoever he was, he seemed to have a conscience about the environment. Could he be a famous naturalist and TV presenter? What would he make of his fiancée’s plans to move the helipad, chop down trees and use a private jet to fly in several hundred thousand pounds’ worth of flowers that couldn’t be locally sourced?

Dido had worked in events management long enough to know that smoothing arguments between loved ones was perhaps the most thankless part of her work. She hoped the pair could agree, otherwise it was going to be a very long weekend.

* * *

It was early evening when the sound of a helicopter broke the serenity of the almost-deserted resort.

Dido had grown so used to the silence and the sense of having the island virtually to herself, that the roar shocked her.

Startled, she looked up from her spreadsheet, surprised to see how low the sun hung above the water. She rolled her shoulders and arched her neck. She’d been absorbed in her work and lost track of time.

Checking in with Graydon had reassured her on several points, but thrown up a stack more concerns, not least her boss’s disquiet at not being able to attend the client meeting.

If Chiara had been demanding, Graydon was double that, on steroids. Usually he’d lead this consultation, with Dido or another consultant doing the legwork. The sickness that prevented him attending had made him tetchy too.

Looking through the open doors of her bungalow to the shallow waves lapping the white sand beach, she knew an overwhelming urge to play hooky.

Surely, just for half an hour…

Closing her work, she padded into the bedroom and the clothes she’d brought. They were all chic enough to pass muster with clients who expected the best of the best. But at the last minute she’d thrown in her old bikini. She hadn’t worn it in years. Hadn’t had the chance. But she’d hoped she might get an hour’s downtime on this exquisite South Sea island.

This was her opportunity. After their long discussions, Chiara had spent hours being pampered in the spa. Now her fiancé had arrived, it was unlikely she’d call Dido to discuss wedding matters.

Chiara’s face lit up when she talked of her man and Dido’s curiosity spiked about him. What did he do that kept him away from his beautiful fiancée?

She’d find out tomorrow when the three of them met to go through the plans.