Marrying the Millionaire Doctor

It wasn’t because of the way

Susie felt about his daughter.

That had simply opened a door

he had considered locked. Made

it a possibility that he could

trust again. Allowed him the

undeniable thrill of the prospect

of more of what he had shared

with Susie last night.

He wanted her.

He wanted her more than he had ever wanted  any woman, and allowing himself the  possibility that it could work was fuelling  a spark of passion that felt as if it could  become…huge.

Big enough to last a lifetime?

CROCODILE CREEK

A cutting-edge medical centre.

Fully equipped for saving lives and loves!

Crocodile Creek’s state-of-the-art Medical Centre

and Rescue Response Unit is home to a team of

expertly trained medical professionals. These

dedicated men and women face the challenges of

life, love and medicine every day!

Last month gorgeous surgeon Nick Devlin

was reunited with Miranda Carlisle

  A PROPOSAL WORTH WAITING FOR  by Lilian Darcy

Now meet dedicated neurosurgeon Nick Vavunis

as he sweeps beautiful physiotherapist Susie

off her feet

  MARRYING THE MILLIONAIRE DOCTOR  by Alison Roberts

In November sexy Angus Stuart comes face to face

with the wife he thought he’d lost

  CHILDREN’S DOCTOR, MEANT-TO-BE WIFE  by Meredith Webber

And December sees Crocodile Creek

Medical Director Charles Wetherby’s

final bid to make nurse Jill his longed-for bride

  A BRIDE AND CHILD WORTH WAITING FOR  by Marion Lennox

Alison Roberts

 lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.  She began her working career as a primary school  teacher, but now juggles available working hours  between writing and active duty as an ambulance  officer. Throwing in a large dose of parenting,  housework, gardening and pet-minding keeps life  busy, and teenage daughter Becky is responsible for an  increasing number of days spent on equestrian pursuits.  Finding time for everything can be a challenge, but the  rewards make the effort more than worthwhile.

Recent titles by the same author:

HER FOUR-YEAR BABY SECRET

  THE ITALIAN SURGEON CLAIMS HIS BRIDE  CHRISTMAS BRIDE-TO-BE  THE PLAYBOY DOCTOR’S PROPOSAL

(Crocodile Creek)

MARRYING THE  MILLIONAIRE  DOCTOR

 BY

ALISON ROBERTS

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CHAPTER ONE

THIS was…

weird

.

As though reality had become a dream. Of course,  Wallaby Island usually had that effect on new arrivals.  The largest of a collection of tropical islands off the  coast of North Australia, it was a picture-perfect mound  of exotic rainforest greenery, bordered by white sandy  beaches, surrounded by a warm turquoise ocean and almost  always bathed in brilliant sunshine.

Susie Jackson was not a new arrival, however. This  environment was reality for her and the anticipation  created by watching the privately chartered seaplane  come in for a smooth landing and taxi to the pontoon  at the end of the jetty was due purely to an empathy with  the young girl standing by her side. Pressed close  enough for the tremor to feel like her own. She tightened  the arm around the girl’s shoulders with a quick,  reassuring hug.

Figures emerged from the small aircraft. The pilot  stayed to secure the mooring and it was a single figure  who began to walk down the timber slats of the narrow  jetty.

That was when it happened.

When the edges of reality began to blur.

So much for the generic ‘parent’ figure she had expected  to greet. Any last-minute words of encouragement  for the girl beside her died on Susie’s lips and she  could only stare as the man striding towards them  turned the jetty into a catwalk.

Modelling the latest Armani suit, perhaps, with an  appropriate aura of elegance and power. Beautifully  tailored dark trousers. A dark tie that had been loosened  and a pristine white shirt with the top button undone.  The suit jacket slung carelessly over one arm and a  slim, black briefcase dangling from that hand. A mobile  phone was in his other hand, held to his ear.

Was it the way he was walking? A mixture of casual  grace but purpose with an unmistakable air of being  very accustomed to attracting a spotlight.

Demanding

it

, almost.

OK, maybe the man

was

 a highly acclaimed neurosurgeon  from Sydney and maybe he was a key figure in  tomorrow’s opening ceremony because he had donated  enough money to help make the new, fabulous medical  facilities on Wallaby Island a possibility in the wake of  Cyclone Willie, which had devastated the area six  months ago, but this wasn’t about him right now, was  it?

It was about Stella. The girl nervously standing  beside her.

Without

 the aid of her crutches. Waiting for  the most important person in her life to applaud what  was, quite literally, a huge step forward.

The nerves were contagious. Or maybe it was a trickle  of apprehension that made Susie’s stomach tighten  and her mouth feel dry as Alex Vavunis strode closer.  The phone was snapped shut and he was close enough now for Susie to take in the clearly defined lines of his  face, the jaw softened slightly by heavy shadow and far  more by a charming smile. Dark hair, dark eyes, olive  skin. Lines on his forehead that suggested this man was  used to frowning.

Not that he was frowning right now. Susie was invisible,  standing outside a kind of forcefield created by  the palpable bond between this father and daughter.  What would it feel like, she wondered a little wistfully,  to be so important to a man like this?

But then the lines deepened, confirming Susie’s impression,  and the smile of pride and delighted greeting  faded as he focused intently on his daughter’s face. For  the briefest moment he looked taken aback. As though  he didn’t quite recognise the person he was looking at.  Almost as though he was seeing a ghost.

‘Stella! What’s all this?’

Stella’s tentative smile widened hopefully.

Look at

me, Daddy, it said. Tell me it’s OK to feel this proud of

myself

.

Susie’s smile widened, too.

She did this by herself,

it said. Isn’t it wonderful

?

But Alex Vavunis didn’t even seem to notice the absence  of the crutches. He was staring at Stella’s face.  Susie watched, transfixed by the changing expression  on his face, not wanting to believe what she could see  happening. Pleasure giving way to a blink of readjustment.  Pride being tarnished by what could only be interpreted  as disappointment. Surely not. How crushing  would that be?

‘You’re…’ Alex paused, and the transformation from  loving parent to authoritarian figure appeared complete.  ‘Are you wearing

make-up

?’

Stella’s smile wobbled. ‘I… It’s the camp disco tonight.  I told you…’

‘And what are you wearing? Whose clothes are  they?’

‘Mine.’

Her father made a faint sound—of irritation perhaps.  As though he knew every item of clothing in his teenage  daughter’s wardrobe and didn’t recognise these.

Maybe he did, in which case Susie might label him  as a control freak rather than a caring parent. It was possible  to give him the benefit of some doubt, though.  What Stella was wearing at the moment was very different  to anything she had brought with her to camp but,  then, variations on a theme of denim jeans, oversized  T-shirts and baseball caps were hardly what a girl would  want to wear to her first disco, were they?

‘There’s a shop at the resort,’ Stella was continuing  bravely. ‘You said I could buy anything I needed and  put it on your room account.’

‘Yes, but…’ Alex took another look at his daughter’s  attire and sighed.

The sigh seemed to hang over them. The sound of a  man who was capable of dealing with any amount of  stress and decision-making in matters of life or death  but who had not expected and certainly did not welcome  having to deal with this particular issue.

Stella didn’t sound so brave now. There was uncertainty  in her voice. ‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’

‘Nothing,’ Susie muttered.

The skirt was gorgeous. Layers of brightly coloured  gypsy ruffles that ended at mid-calf. The perfect length  and shape for making the first public appearance of that  prosthesis discreet.

The lacy white camisole top was also perfect. Just  what most teenage girls wore, and while the shop hadn’t  run to much in the way of lingerie, Susie knew Stella  had been secretly thrilled at the boost from the lightly  padded and underwired white bikini top.

‘It looks like underwear,’ Alex Vavunis decreed. He  shook his head in a single, incredulous movement.  ‘Good Greek girls do not appear in underwear in public,  Stella.’

‘But…’

Susie could feel Stella’s confidence draining. All the  excitement and anticipation from revealing her progress  and new, grown-up look was evaporating like the hiss  of air from a pricked balloon. She glared at Stella’s  father. How could he

do

 this? Did he have any idea how  hard it had been to get to this point? How fragile his  daughter’s self-esteem was?

A degree of disapproval would have been understandable.  Acceptable even. She had been prepared for  that after more than one reference from Stella about  how strict her father could be, but Susie had brushed  aside the warnings. She had heard enough to convince  her how proud Stella was of her famous father and how  much she loved him. Any parent who inspired such  loyalty had to be doing something right and it had been  easy to convince herself that he would be as thrilled as  she was at the extraordinary progress Stella had made  this week.

Oh, Lord! This was

her

 fault.

Susie still had her arm around Stella’s shoulders and  she could feel the gathering tension. Any second now  and her arm could be shrugged off as blame was apportioned.  There would be tears, no doubt. What should have been a joyous reunion would be a scene of misery  and confrontation for everybody concerned.

‘Charles Wetherby was supposed to meet me and  arrange transport,’ Alex said. ‘We’ll go straight to the  hotel and you can get changed.’ He frowned at his  mobile phone then looked over Stella’s shoulder.

Susie followed the glance. Sure enough, there was  Charles in his wheelchair a little further up the path that  led to the medical centre. How long had he been there?  How much had he overheard?

Enough, she suspected, aware of a wash of relief.  The medical director of Crocodile Creek Base Hospital  had earned his position as the heart of this community.  He never ceased to keep his fingers on the pulse of  his realm. Not just the running of a large base hospital  that provided a rescue base for the whole of far  North Queensland. Or its satellite and now considerably  upgraded facilities on Wallaby Island that meant they  were able to expand the camps run for sick kids and  their families. He also seemed to know anything important  that was happening in the lives of his staff.

Susie sent a smile in his direction. A probably unnecessary  plea for assistance in defusing this situation.  Charles had been the point of contact for the neurosurgeon  two years ago when Alex Vavunis had been checking  out the possibility of a respite for his daughter who  had been undergoing intensive chemotherapy for a type  of bone cancer. He would know more about the man’s  personality than Susie did, so he would be aware of the  undercurrents.

And everybody had seen how Susie had been drawn  to this prickly teenager in the first week of this current  camp. Charles had commented only yesterday about the extra hours Susie was spending on the island this time,  but the twinkle in his eye had been approving.

He had seen what Stella’s father was apparently blind  to. Susie’s smile suddenly felt crooked. Maybe Charles  had also seen that the project was helping Susie as much  as Stella. That she’d been drawn to the teenager because  some of the events of this week had left her feeling just  as forlorn and left out of the good things in life as Stella  clearly did.

Charles rolled onto the planks at the land end of the  jetty. The seaplane pilot had finished securing the moorings  and was walking towards them from the other end,  carrying a suitcase. She and Stella were a little island  of femininity getting closed in by men. No wonder  Stella trembled and seemed to lose her balance. Standing  unaided was new enough without this sense of  threat. That was why Susie had the elbow crutches  clutched in her free hand. Hidden behind her back.

Amazingly, though, Stella straightened. Regained  her balance. Susie loved the way her chin rose defiantly.

‘No,’ she told her father.

‘No?’ The echo was dumbfounded. ‘What do you  mean, “

No

”?’

‘I’m not going to the hotel.’

‘It’s all arranged.’ The words were impatient. ‘We  have a suite. You didn’t want to stay in the dormitories  with the other children, remember?’

Of course she didn’t, Susie thought angrily. She has  to take her prosthesis off at night, doesn’t she?

‘You refused to even come to camp this year,’ Alex  continued. ‘You only agreed because I’d already gone  to considerable trouble to create a window so I could  attend the opening of the medical centre.’

Charles raised an eyebrow. It had been an invitation  to a major sponsor, the gesture suggested. A courtesy,  not an edict intended to create inconvenience.

‘You

liked

 the idea of the luxury suite,’ Alex concluded  firmly. ‘And that you could fly back with me on  Sunday instead of staying for the second week. It’s all  arranged, Stella.’

And that was that.

Or was it?

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Stella said. She gulped in a  breath of the warm tropical air. ‘I

like

 the dormitory now…  And I like my new clothes…and…and I

can

 wear makeup  if I want to. I’m nearly

fourteen

 and Susie said—’

‘

Susie?

’ The interruption was a snap. A low and dangerous  sound. ‘Who the hell is Susie?’

‘Me,’ Susie said. Oh, God, did it have to come out  like the squeak of a cornered mouse?

For the first time Alex looked directly at her and  Susie felt the eye contact like a physical blow. Sharp and  penetrating.

She

 felt like a bug pinned for inspection,  and she couldn’t escape. Couldn’t—for the life of her— tear her gaze away.

Not that she really wanted to. Stella needed an ally  here and

she

 was it. She would just have to ignore the  way her heart had begun hammering and the odd,  prickly internal sensation that felt horribly like fear.

‘Susie Jackson.’ It was Charles’s voice. Calm and  strong. A reassurance all by itself. ‘Our esteemed  physiotherapist, Alex. She and Stella have made a formidable  team this week.’

‘Charles!’ Alex slipped his mobile phone into the  pocket of his trousers and extended his hand to greet the  man now beside Stella. ‘Good to see you.’

‘And you, Alex. We’re delighted you were able to  make it.’

‘Good timing, having the opening on while Stella’s  here for camp. It’s about time I saw the place that’s  made such a difference to my only child’s life.’

‘Not to mention meeting the people.’ Charles’s smile  drew Susie into the exchange. ‘We’re lucky there were  no last-minute emergencies to keep you in Sydney this  time.’

The pocket holding the cellphone got patted. ‘There  are always emergencies, Charles, as I’m sure you know  only too well.’ A determined intake of breath suggested  resolution. Had he been dealing with difficulties in his  unit even as he’d been taking his first steps onto the  jetty? ‘This time I told them they’d just have to cope  without me.’

The charming smile was back but it had no effect on  Susie. She wasn’t prepared to make allowances for professional  hassles. She was getting a rather clear picture  of how important this man considered himself and his  career and, in her opinion, Stella should be a long way  further up his list of priorities.

It was, quite simply, not good enough.

‘I might even turn my mobile off,’ Alex said.

Susie almost snorted.

‘Good thinking,’ Charles said mildly. He swivelled  to look over his shoulder. ‘There’s a cart on the way to  take you to the resort but if you’re not too hot, I could  give you a quick tour of the centre.’

Susie found herself nodding agreement. Disappear  for a while, she encouraged silently.

Let me see if I can

repair the damage here

.

No such luck.

‘We’ll go to the hotel first,’ Alex said crisply. ‘I can’t  have my daughter out looking like—’

‘Like

what

?’ Stella’s voice rose and there was  more than a hint of tears in it. ‘What’s so wrong with  the way I look, Dad?

Susie

 said…’ Her voice trailed  away. Was it too hard to utter the notion that she  looked gorgeous?

‘Susie said

what?

’

Alex flicked another glance at his daughter’s physiotherapist.  His gaze dropped from her loose, shoulder- length hair, which always went a bit too curly with salt  water and sunshine, to take in the soft singlet top she  wore beneath an unbuttoned shirt, the sleeves of which  were rolled up past her elbows. Dropped again, to  denim shorts with frayed hems that did nothing to hide  the length of her well-tanned legs.

Susie flushed. It wasn’t a particularly professional- looking uniform but things were never overly formal in  Crocodile Creek, and she was on an island right now  with a bunch of kids who were having a holiday. A  break from lives that centred around debilitating and  sometimes fatal illnesses.

They were here to have fun and her role was to help  them only as much as necessary. To encourage severely  asthmatic children to keep up their breathing exercises.  To provide maintenance therapy to those suffering from  cystic fibrosis and cerebral palsy. And, yes, she had  stepped over the boundary of maintenance therapy with  Stella, but if she hadn’t, Stella would have stayed on the  outskirts. Hiding from the other children. From life.  From having any fun at all.

And her father wanted to send her back into that dark  space? Susie’s chin went up the same way Stella’s had. She cleared her throat and was pleased with how firmly  she spoke.

‘I said she looked absolutely gorgeous.’

Her defiance was clearly infuriating.

‘She looks,’ Alex hissed, ‘like a

tart

.’

Stella gasped. ‘That’s a

horrible

 thing to say. How 

could

 you?’

Alex closed his eyes for a moment. He took a deep  breath. When he opened his eyes again, his expression  had softened. He raised his hand in a gesture of apology.  ‘I’m sorry,

latria

, but you’re thirteen years old and I find  you wearing underwear in public and with your face  plastered with make-up. What did you

expect

 me to  think?’

It wasn’t plastered. The make-up was discreet and  enhancing. The result of rather long girly time in Susie’s  cabin that afternoon. She opened her mouth to protest  but Stella got in first.

‘I wish you hadn’t even come.’ The girl twisted under  Susie’s arm, having either not registered or not accepted  her father’s attempt at an apology. She was fishing for  her crutches.

Should Susie try and hang on to them? Let Stella  show her father she could now manage to walk on her  prosthesis—something she had refused to even attempt  until this week?

No. Stella was far too upset to remember how to  keep her balance. To fall over now would only make her  humiliation unbearable. Susie helped her fit a crutch to  each arm, which took only seconds.

Tears were streaming down Stella’s pale face as she  looked up at her father.

‘Go

home

,’ she shouted. ‘I

hate

 you.’

With that, she turned deftly and manoeuvred herself  past Charles, heading towards the end of the jetty.

‘

Stella!

’ The word was a command.

One that was blatantly ignored. Stella was picking up  speed now that she had reached the path. She was running  away as fast an anyone could with a pair of elbow  crutches and a below-knee amputation. The state-of-the-art  prosthesis that looked so wonderfully realistic wasn’t  touching the ground. It was back to being what it had  been since its procurement. An aesthetic accessory.

Susie rounded on Alex.

‘How

could

 you?’

His face emptied of an expression worn many times  by any parent of a teenager. That baffled kind of look  that asked how on earth things had got so out of hand.  As he focused on Susie, his face became completely  neutral. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Your daughter walked nearly fifty metres this morning  without using those crutches. She couldn’t even 

stand

 without the crutches a week ago and we’ve  worked incredibly hard to get this far.’ The words were  tumbling out. A release of all the hurt and disappointment  she felt on behalf of Stella. ‘That’s exactly what  she was doing when you arrived and

that’s

 what you  should have noticed. Not the bloody

make-up

!’ Susie  gave an incredulous huff and put all her own fury into  the glare she was directing at Alex. ‘How

could

 you?’  she repeated.

There was a long moment of stunned silence. Susie  had seen him flinch. She knew her words had found a  target. Clearly, he was considering how to deal with  such a personal attack.

The pilot had stopped approaching some time back, obviously disconcerted by the sound of angry voices.  He was peering at something over the edge of the jetty  with studied interest.

Tiny sounds became magnified. The lap of gentle  waves breaking on the nearby beach. The cry of exotic  birds in the rainforest. A distant shout and then the  laughter of children.

The heat was intolerable.

It wasn’t a tropical sun that was burning Susie right  now, however. The heat was emanating from the man  in front of her. His sheer energy was overpowering. Not  simply anger. Anyone could get angry, especially a  parent who had been publicly defied and then criticised.  No. The power here came from anger underlined  with a heady mix of intelligence, position and…and the  most potent masculinity Susie Jackson had ever encountered.

She had never met anyone like this in her entire life.

What the hell did she think she was doing?

His voice encapsulated every lightning impression  she had just catalogued. It was a low, dangerously  calm rumble.

‘Stella is my daughter,

Miss

 Jackson. I have raised  her alone since she was three months old.’ A tiny pause  for effect. ‘I don’t think I need

anybody

 telling me how  I

should

 be doing it.’

Obviously he did, but the defiant response refused  to come out. Susie’s mouth was too dry and she felt  alarmingly close to tears herself. It was tempting to  turn and run, as Stella had done, but she wasn’t going  to.

No way!

A purring noise broke this silence and it came from the small, electrically powered vehicle that chose that  moment to arrive. Slow moving and environmentally  friendly, these island vehicles had two seats and could  tow a small trailer for luggage.

‘Ah…my transport.’ Alex turned away, giving Susie  the impression that she was a nuisance that had now  been dealt with. He sounded slightly less sure of himself  when he focused on the new arrival, however.

‘What in God’s name is that?’

‘Garf,’ Charles told him succinctly. ‘The camp  mascot.’

As was often the case, empty space in a cart or trailer  had been gleefully occupied by the large, woolly dog.

‘But what

is

 he? I’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘Labradoodle. Labrador poodle cross. Hypoallergenic.  We had to be careful with pets and avoid anything  that could trigger asthma attacks. He’s still on parole as  far as close contact with some of the children.’

Garf didn’t know that. He had obviously been waiting  for the cart to stop. As soon as it did, he bounced  off the seat and loped off in the direction Stella had  taken. Susie smiled. Garf had an inbuilt antenna when  it came to unhappy children and he was probably the  best medicine for Stella right now.

Alex gave a satisfied nod as the dog vanished up the  track. ‘I’ll meet you back here in half an hour if that  suits,’ he said to Charles. ‘Now, where is Stella’s dormitory?’

Susie opened her mouth and then shut it again as she  caught the flicker of Charles’s eyebrow.

‘Let me offer you a nice cold drink,’ he said to Alex.  ‘I don’t know about you, but I could do with one.’ He  smiled. ‘Don’t forget we’re on island time here. Nobody’s going anywhere and nothing needs to be  rushed.’

Diplomatic, Susie conceded. Far more so than she  would have been in suggesting that Stella needed some  time to herself before seeing her father again.

And Charles was not someone who could be dismissed.  He might be in a wheelchair but that did nothing  to diminish this man’s presence, and he had the upper  hand right now. They were on

his

 patch.

Alex had the grace to concede at least a reprieve. He  inclined his head. ‘Wouldn’t say no to a cold beer. I have  to admit it’s been rather a long and difficult day already.’

Was that some kind of backhanded apology? Inferring  that Susie’s earlier impression might have been  valid and his reaction to Stella’s appearance had been  the last straw on a stressed camel’s back?

Charles was gracious enough to assume something  along those lines. ‘I’ll bet,’ he said sympathetically.  ‘Let’s send your luggage off to the resort and we can  see what the fridge in my office has to offer.’

‘Lead the way.’

‘We’ll go via the centre if you don’t mind. I need to  pop in on Lily.’

‘Lily? Your daughter?’

‘She’s not very well.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Nothing too serious but you know how young children  can go down in a heap with a virus. I’m keeping  her in the medical centre this afternoon so we can keep  a close eye on her.’

The voices of the two men faded as they moved  away. The pilot took it as a cue to finish his journey  along the jetty.

‘Bloody suit,’ he muttered. ‘Thinks he’s God’s gift,  doesn’t he? You OK, Susie?’

‘I’m fine, thanks, Wayne.’

‘Poor kid.’

‘Hmm. I might just go and see where she is.’

‘You do that.’ Wayne hefted the smart black suitcase  onto the back of the electric cart and greeted the driver.  ‘There’s a couple of dead birds floating under the jetty,  mate. Those noisy shearwater things. Someone might  need to do something before they wash up on the beach  or the kids go swimming or something.’

The driver unhooked a radio from the dashboard. ‘I’ll  call it in but I think the rangers are still out with the kids  on some forest trek.’

The rainforest buggy ride was actually over, Susie realised  as she walked back towards the camp facilities.  Already groups of children and their parents or carers  were heading to the beach for a late-afternoon swim.  She waved at Benita Green, a nurse with a small group  of her cancer patients in tow, and then found herself returning  the wide grin of little Danny, who was still completely  bald from his chemo.

It was hard to stay angry in this environment. Hopefully  Stella had found a private spot and the island was  working a similar magic on her. Or would she be angry  at Susie for orchestrating the confrontation, albeit unwittingly?  More likely, she was simply feeling utterly miserable.

Unloved and unlovable.

Where would she have gone?

Not to the dormitory with the others returning and  racing in to get their togs and towels. The older ones would be looking forward to the disco this evening and  probably discussing it, and that would certainly rub salt  into Stella’s wounds.

Would she have gone to the cabin Susie had been allocated  because she was staying for the opening ceremony  tomorrow and the gala dinner the five-star resort  restaurant was hosting later? Stella knew the location  because that was where they’d excitedly taken the purchases  of new clothes and make-up for the styling session  that afternoon. But she also knew that Susie was  going to be sharing the cabin with other staff from the  base hospital. She would hardly want to explain herself  to strangers if they had already arrived.

No. Susie turned off the wide track that led from the  beach, one fork going to the camp dormitories, dining  hall and activity rooms, the other leading to the newly  built eco-cabins in the rainforest. She doubled back towards  the beach on a much smaller track, confident she  knew one of the best thinking spots around.

Sure enough, hidden between the overturned timber  hulls of a couple of ancient dinghies, Stella was sitting.  A hunched figure scraping a meaningless pattern in the  sand with a piece of driftwood, oblivious to the view of  the ocean and small islands that advertised their presence  in paradise. Beside her, with big brown eyes peering  anxiously beneath golden dreadlocks, sat Garf.  Close enough to cuddle but respectfully keeping his  distance for now. The dog seemed, in fact, to be enjoying  the view Stella was ignoring.

Susie slid down the side of a dinghy to a squat rather  than a si