Hana stirred. She didn’t wake but she smiled in her sleep and her lips moved in a contented whisper.
‘Mumma …’
‘I’m here, darling. Sleep tight. Love you to the moon and back.’
She stole another kiss and then let the netting fall back to protect the precious little body, but for a long moment she didn’t move. This was what she’d needed more than anything. To feel this love.
To remind herself that everything had been worth it and that she had no regrets.
There were things that she needed to do, like finding something for dinner, having a shower and finding a clean uniform for work tomorrow, but they could all wait until her mother was home. A quiet moment to herself seemed more important and Anahera chose to curl up on the old cane chair in the corner of the veranda that was bathed in moonlight and the scent of the nearby frangipani bushes.
Maybe it was the moonlight that was her undoing. Or the sweet scent of the tropical flowers. It was probably inevitable that she had to revisit her past, given the shock of seeing Luke, and maybe it was a necessary step in order to get past it and move forward again. Or at least get herself together enough to make sure her mother didn’t guess the truth.
She couldn’t know, could she? If she’d had even the tiniest suspicion she would never have made that casual remark that had sliced open old wounds for her own daughter.
‘You had to rush away, though … Your wife was ill …’
It had been such a secret thing—their love affair.
How naïve had she been to think that had been because it had been so precious to them both? A private joy that might change when others knew about it?
But it had seemed like a natural progression, too, because of how it had started—as an almost telepathic conversation of glances and accidental touch as an undercurrent to the open conversations of two people getting to know each other. It had been Anahera who’d made the first move. Offering to show Luke the drama of Sunset Beach had been an invitation to let whatever had been happening between them grow and, for her, that first kiss had only confirmed that her heart had already been stolen.
And it would have changed things if others had known. Her mother would have been afraid that she would lose her. That Anahera would follow Luke back to London and forget her island heritage. Her work family would have worried about how they would replace her and she herself would have had to face the possibility of giving up so much for a new life, and she hadn’t been ready for that. She had wanted to stay in the safe bubble of no one else knowing for as long as possible. To revel in the bright colours and extraordinary happiness of being so completely in love.
How ironic was it that she’d ended up having to flee and start a new life anyway? Alone. Or so she’d thought until the disruption and heartache had settled enough for her to realise what was happening to her body.
And Luke? Well, he’d had his own reasons for wanting to keep their love affair a secret and it hadn’t had anything to do with how precious it was, had it?
Tapping into that old anger wasn’t going to help, though. She’d made a conscious decision to let it go the moment she’d first held Hana in her arms. To feel thankful that it had happened even. Oh, it had resurfaced sometimes in those first months of trying to raise her daughter alone, when the fatigue and financial pressures and homesickness had got on top of her, but coming back to Wildfire Island had fixed that. She’d been back for more than two years now and she had all the support she needed. A job that she loved and the joy of watching her daughter grow up in the same place she had. A place filled with such extraordinary beauty and countless butterflies.
Her life was exactly the way she wanted it to be.
The last thing she’d expected—or wanted—was to be reminded that something was missing. The kind of something she’d found with Luke Wilson. The one thing she had known she would never find again, especially coming back to the isolation of her childhood home, but the sacrifice had been worth it.
For Hana.
Anahera was so happy here so there was a new anger to be found that her happiness had been ambushed like this. The sooner she could get Luke and all the associated baggage out of her head, the better.
She closed her eyes on a sigh, unable to ignore it any longer—the thing she knew wasn’t going to be fixed when Luke left the island in a few days. Something that had always been there but which had suddenly become a whole lot bigger. Which might, in fact, get even worse when Luke had gone again.
The guilt that Luke had no idea he was Hana’s father …
Something unexpected was happening for Luke, quite apart from seeing Anahera Kopu again.
A unique alchemy of personalities that was creating an energy that Luke had been unsuccessfully trying to resist ever since the ‘meet and greet’ cocktail party.
He recognised it as the kind of connection he’d found with Harry over the weeks he’d treated him in London. It was more than the beginnings of a significant friendship—it was a meeting of like minds that was inspirational enough to have the possibility of achieving something amazing.
Sam Taylor might appear to be extraordinarily laid back but there was a passion for what he did running quite close to the surface and his charm was a force to be reckoned with. Add that to the more brooding intelligence and determination of Harry, along with the kind of resources he had to make things happen, and Luke was finding himself to be the meat in an increasingly interesting sandwich.
Which was why—despite thinking it wasn’t the best idea—he found himself visiting Wildfire Island’s hospital during a break on the second day of the conference, when the other attendees had been taken out to one of the outer islands to go snorkelling and visit a turtle colony.
He didn’t want it to seem like he was forcing his company on Anahera. If there was any chance of being able to talk and possibly resolve their unfinished business, it wasn’t going to happen in front of other people. It wasn’t going to happen as the result of a planned meeting either, but the hope of finding her by chance was fading after Luke’s long walk along the beaches and through the village yesterday evening.
And this was a professional visit to the hospital. He and Sam had a lot to talk about.
The only space for that discussion appeared to be the room that staff gathered in to take a break. There was a kitchenette for preparing hot drinks or food and a small fridge that Sam opened to reveal an impressive stock of cold drinks. The couch looked as though it was a comfortable space to nap on a night shift, and Luke could see a neatly folded blanket and a couple of pillows tucked neatly behind it. A couple of reclining lounge chairs and a table filled the rest of the available space and one of the lounge chairs had an occupant.
‘G’day, mate.’
‘Jack—this is Luke Wilson. The encephalitis expert I was telling you all about. Luke—this is Jack Richards, our number-one helicopter pilot.’
Jack got to his feet and extended his hand. ‘It’s a privilege to meet you, Luke. You’ve certainly fired Sam up. Haven’t seen him this excited in years.’
Luke shook his hand. ‘It’s an exciting development, that’s for sure.’
‘What would you like, Luke?’ Sam still had the fridge door open. ‘Something cold or a coffee or tea?’
‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ Luke admitted. ‘Haven’t had one since I left London and it’s starting to feel a long time ago.’
‘Might have one myself.’ Sam grinned. ‘Get in touch with my English roots.’
‘Where are you from?’