“Again!”
“Okay, here goes.Whoosh!”She threw him into the air, watched him splat and come back up laughing.She cut a quick glance at Daniel.“Who knew throwing children would be such good fun?”
Not quite a smile on his face, but there was the definite hint of amusement.“My nieces and nephews like it when I hang them upside down by their feet.”
Libby laughed.“What else are uncles for?”
There was that quirk of his lips again, making her wonder what it would take for him to fully smile again, like in all those photos she’d seen of him on a podium or at a glittery showbiz event.
Beside her now, he sank into the water and when he closed his eyes, Libby could almost see the tension easing from his body.“Feels good?”
“Amazing.”A soft groan escaped him.“The water’s so warm.”
“It sure beats a bath, doesn’t it?”Oh, man.Why had she said that?Visions of walking in on him naked flashed before her.She turned her full attention back to Karim.“Show me your swimming, honey.That’s it.”She cheered his achievement, then flicked another glance at Daniel.He was still drifting close by, facing the sky and looking more at peace than while he’d been sleeping.
“All those hours traveling,” he said with a sigh.“It was the thought of floating like this that kept me going.All those delays, those tiny seats.”
“You’re so tall”—and surely rich enough—“you should’ve booked a bigger seat.”
“I did.”He told her the airline had overbooked tickets, and that his flight from London had been delayed due to a mechanical fault.“That whole journey was a living hell for me.”
“And then you sat next to us.”
He zapped her with an earnest gaze.“I really am sorry about what I said to you, Libby.”
“I know,” she said, surprised that he’d remembered her name.“Consider it forgotten.”
“Thank you.”
She looked to Karim and returned his cheeky grin as he spun around in the water.“I’m sorry my son made you sick.”
“There’s no need to apologize for that.It wasn’t his fault, or yours, and it served me right for being a miserable tosser.”He fanned his arms gently by his side, displacing water as his large, bare feet bobbed to the surface.“Maybe Karim knew I was being a complete a-hole and wanted to teach me a lesson.”
“Maybe.”Libby giggled.“You’re Mommy’s little guard doggy, aren’t you, honey?”
“Woof-woof!”Karim yapped and splashed.
Libby laughed and to her surprise, so did Cranky—or rather that little breathy snort he let out could be mistaken for laughter.She wasn’t entirely sure, but at least he wasn’t huffing or sighing or spitting out bad words.
There was hope for him yet.
Chapter 7
Forafewblissfulmoments, pain and betrayal dissipated into the air, and the roadblocks in Dan’s life turned to mist.As Libby and her kid splashed in the shallower water, he floated into oblivion with the sun on his face and the weight off his aching hips.
Coming to the Cook Islands had always been his dream.
As a child, he’d loved listening to his parents’ travel stories of when they’d toured Australia and New Zealand, living in a tent and out of backpacks, before eventually visiting the Cooks.Their stories had always sounded so romantic, so…adventurous.Long before Dan had even met Isabella, he’d thought of spending his honeymoon here, sharing this place with the love of his life—like his parents had.
Issy had taken some persuasion, though.Malibu had been her first choice for a honeymoon.But that was too close to LA—too tempting for her to work.They’d eventually compromised.December in the Cooks, January in Los Angeles.Issy hadn’t been keen on staying inAre Moana.She’d wanted a plush resort, while he’d wanted homely, where journalists would least expect them to be.So they’d met in the middle, booked the first week at a luxury, exclusive resort on Atiutaki—where Mum and Zeezee currently were—and the rest of the time atAre Moana, where they could be left alone to enjoy together-time for a few weeks.
But…Los Angeles.Malibu.The whole showbiz shebang, that’s what Isabella had truly wanted, and now she had it—including the hit song and the Hollywood hunk who didn’t walk with a limp.
Dan flipped over and dunked below the surface, keeping his eyes open to see the bright underwater world.Aquamarine filled his vision.Tiny yellow fish flashed by.Reaching out, he grabbed a handful of sand from the lagoon bed.
Isabella didn’t like sand.It made her feet itch.On holiday once in Corfu, he’d carried her across the beach whenever she’d wanted a swim.The paps had had a field day.It had been funny at the time, romantic even, and he’d imagined the same romantic moments here too—without, of course, the reporters and their long lenses.
Reality crashed back into his mind.As he came up for air, his eyes stung.That bloody press announcement.It was due to be made tonight, Cook Islands time.Which would be Thursday morning in the UK, perfectly scheduled to hit the breakfast news.People would talk and speculate over his and Issy’s separation—at work, on TV and radio, in queues at the supermarket—and her damn song would be played even in the deepest, darkest abyss.
