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Daniel merely smiled and excused himself, walking a little distance away as he made his own brief call before they both climbed into the waiting helicopter.
The ground fell away below along with Sophie’s stomach as the helicopter rose effortlessly above the palm trees and set out towards the nearby coast. Beneath them the land slipped behind, houses and buildings giving way to a border of palm-studded sand and a sea that lapped at its shores in various shades from pale blue to aqua to turquoise. Once again she was struck with the sheer force of colour; the sand was bleached to a startling white, the waters so bright and beautiful, while the densely tangled, forested mountains behind were a bold contrast of green.
It was breathtaking, almost as breathtaking as the man alongside her and his unexpected about-face and subsequent apology.
Never in a million years would she have expected an apology from someone like Daniel Caruana. The man had appeared a complete Neanderthal just this morning. Surely evolution was meant to take longer?
Maybe, like he said, he’d been taken unawares with the news of his little sister’s wedding? That at least made some kind of sense. She had to admit, she’d been taken aback too with the suddenness of the announcement. In some ways she’d been frightened she was losing the brother she’d only recently found. It was only when Monica had made it plain that she’d never be excluded from Jake’s life again, and she realised that the other woman meant it, that she’d really come to embrace the news herself.
Had Daniel similarly been afraid of losing Monica?
Is that why he’d ultimately changed his mind—because he was genuinely worried he’d put his own relationship with his sister at risk by refusing her right to decide who to marry?
Who could tell how Daniel Caruana’s mind worked? After all, this was the man who paid off his sister’s prospective suitors. Did he really care anything about her happiness?
Besides, she hadn’t missed his reaction when she’d mentioned Jake’s name before boarding the helicopter. It was clear that what he felt for her brother bordered on hatred. So, while on the surface he seemed more amenable to this wedding, nothing had changed there.
And nothing explained why he had all but kissed her. Her lips tingled at the memory, at the remembered heat of his proximity.
It had been little more than a brush of lips, as brief as it was unexpected, and then he’d wheeled away and turned his back on her as if it had been the biggest mistake of his life. What had that been about, if not a blatant, testosterone-driven attempt to try to scuttle her thoughts and arguments and show her who was boss?
And it had so very nearly worked.
She felt a tap on her arm and jumped, as if she’d summoned his attention with her thoughts, and she was thankful beyond measure that he couldn’t read them.
He pointed now, and yelled something at her she couldn’t quite catch over her headphones, but she followed where he was pointing and understood.
Just a smudge of bluish green appeared on the horizon, with a zig-zag line jutting into the sky. But she recognised the shape immediately. So that was Kallista. She remembered seeing pictures of it years ago in an article about the private playgrounds of Australia’s rich and famous. She’d never thought for a moment that one day she’d be setting foot on it herself.
The island sat like a jewel just off the coast, plump green hillsides and jagged peaks sliding to blindingly white sand beaches thickly fringed with palms, and ringed with the coral reef that made the sea around the island appear a thousand different shades of blue.
As they circled the mountains, even more treasure was revealed. A lagoon on one side, the water so clear she could see fish darting to and fro in the shallows.
Sophie’s heart sank.
It was tropical perfection.
It made the Tropical Palms golf course look like a shabby try-hard.
What bride wouldn’t prefer to get married in such a picture-postcard setting?
But they had a booking and Monica was happy, she reminded herself. And it would be perfect on the day. It was Sophie’s job to ensure it would be so.
‘So what do you think?’ Daniel asked, after landing, as they strolled along the short jetty towards a waiting golf buggy. His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, his white-teeth smile wide, the smile of a man who assumed he’d already won the battle, if not the war.
She looked anywhere but at him as they reached the buggy. ‘It’s nice,’ she said with a nod, probably making the understatement of the year, but she wasn’t about to gush, not when he would take any encouragement she offered as support for his plans to shift the venue from Brisbane to the island.
‘Nice?’ he repeated, rolling the word around his mouth like it had left a bad taste. ‘You don’t think you could be just a little more enthusiastic?’
