Free Reckless in Paradise by Trish Morey

island and he was in charge. King of his island castle. Thank heavens Monica had agreed to hold the wedding in Brisbane. She couldn’t imagine trying to organise a wedding here with Daniel watching, waiting for every mistake. Not that there was any chance of that happening, no matter what he thought of his ‘infrastructure’.
    Sophie entered the bure, removed her sunglasses and felt her heart sink as her eyes adjusted. The sight of the bungalows hidden in the rainforest had been a surprise in itself; the article she’d read had mentioned nothing of scattered bungalows. But, while the decking had been thoughtfully designed, the simple exterior had given no indication of the luxury contained within. The timber-framed glass doors opened straight into a spacious sitting-room decorated not in the usual and unimaginative palm-tree prints but in tasteful russet, cream and coffee shades. The prints on fabrics and walls were minimal, the furnishings inviting, and Sophie applauded every decorating choice.
    In a wall opposite the entry, bi-fold doors beckoned, hinging back to reveal a bedroom even larger than the living area with a pillow-laden bed so wide and inviting that the child in her was tempted to dive straight onto it. Sophie would have too, until her adult brain reminded her that Daniel was just behind her. Any sign of enthusiasm now was only going to make it more difficult for herself later on when she had to argue that this venue wouldn’t work.
    She still believed it, even with the glimpse of more bures tucked between the trees. A few cabins, after all, did not make a resort. The catering facilities would have to be first rate too, though a niggle in the back of her brain told her that bures of this standard would require more than a simple barbeque onthe beach every night. But whatever they were like, she told herself, the inspection was pointless. They had a venue. End of story.
    â€˜Very nice,’ she conceded with a terse nod, schooling her face to bland, knowing Daniel was waiting for her reaction. Another door led to the adjoining bathroom with spa bath and rainforest shower head which she eyed with as much detachment and as little envy as she could manage.
    But there was no denying the sudden stab of guilt. It was gorgeous, seriously gorgeous, and she couldn’t have blamed Monica in the least if she’d wanted to get married here on the island. She didn’t know what else was in store for this inspection, but a bit of dressing up could turn a bure like this into every girl’s fantasy honeymoon suite.
    Her teeth scraped her bottom lip as she recalled the rooms at the Tropical Palms. Outdated. Bordering on shabby. Seriously in need of refurbishment. Whereas here…
    Jake had wanted the wedding to take place in Brisbane and Monica had agreed to the Tropical Palms because she’d thought Daniel would never agree to her marriage, that he would never tolerate it, let alone offer to pay for it. And also, she had to admit, because it was the only place going at short notice that could offer a taste of the tropical paradise that Kallista was.
    What if Daniel was right and Monica had always wanted to be married here? Right now she only had Daniel’s word on that, but looking around it didn’t take too much stretch of the imagination to believe it.
    Had Monica suppressed her heart’s desire to be married here on Kallista because she had thought it would present the path of least resistance and accommodate both her brother’s and her fiancé’s wishes?
    Which left her—as a wedding planner who promised a perfect day—where, exactly?
    â€˜So, what do you think?’
    She wheeled around so quickly that her head spun. Was it just the sight of him reclining on the side of the bed behind her and not waiting in the doorway like she’d expected? Her mouth went dry. His eyes were level with her breasts. She knew that because he was looking right at them. And