Dalton watched Rosa hurry away down the shell path, her sandals crunching on the shells.

She was slender, with a hint of curves where it counted. Long, graceful legs. Pretty, sure. But she’d ignored the one thing he’d asked of her and woken Tiny when she needed to sleep.

If Rosa had thought she’d take advantage of Tiny’s illness to score herself a fun job on a tropical island doing whatever the hell she wanted, she was dead wrong. That she hadn’t even tried to hide the champagne she’d brought with her pretty much said it all.

She could stick around to help out for a week, maybe two. But as soon as the resort was sold, Rosa would be on a plane home.

And so would he and Tiny. He couldn’t wait.

There was no place in the world Dalton hated more than the Lantana Island Resort, yet here he was in this loathsome hell hole. Making the best of it.

Okay, so making the best of it meant stomping around like a grizzly bear with a wasp nest stuck to its ass, but who could blame him? Being stuck on this cursed island, unable to get treatment for hours, was the reason Tiny’s stroke had done so much damage. The Lantana Island Resort kept demanding more blood from his family. Hadn’t they already given it enough?

It wasn’t until Rosa had disappeared around a curve in the path that Dalton went into the house and peeked in through his sister’s bedroom door. Tiny was in bed with her eyes closed. At least she wasn’t curled up with her face to the wall. Or crying. He hated it when she cried.

He hadn’t meant to wake her again, but when the door creaked, she opened her eyes and lifted her head to see who was there.

“Hey, sis,” he said, going inside. “How are you feeling?”

“I saw Rosa.” Amazingly enough, his sister gave him a smile.

Dalton raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t seen her smile in ages. “You didn’t tell me you’d hired someone.” He kept his tone mild. The last thing he wanted was to upset her, especially if her mood had lifted.

“Need someone to help run this place.”

“You’re not supposed to worry about anything. Leave the resort to me and concentrate on getting well.”

She eyed his bare torso. “You’re sweaty.”

He nodded. He could easily have paid someone to do the work, but there wasn’t a gym on Lantana and he needed to work off his agitation. Besides, the harder he worked, the less he thought about the past. Putting in a hard day’s physical labor made it easier to fall asleep at night.

“I’ve been clearing overgrown sections of the path,” he said. “Got to get the place looking nice to sell it.”

She let out a long sigh. “Don’t want to sell.”

“You need proper treatment.” Though they’d had this discussion several times already, Dalton kept his tone gentle.

“Doctors here are good.”

Dalton shook his head. He’d arranged for as much therapy as was available here, but Fiji was too small to have a dedicated treatment and rehabilitation center. He sat on the side of the bed and took her hand. “Let me take you home, sis.”

“You don’t have a home.”

True enough. But that needed to change. He couldn’t just think of himself anymore.

“We’ll make a home,” he said. “I’ll get us a nice place overlooking Sydney Harbor that’s close to the rehab center. You’ll have the best care available, and you’ll get better.”

“You’d settle down?” She sounded surprised. “For me?”

He had to force a smile so she wouldn’t see how the question cut him. They may not have seen each other often enough since they’d gone to Australia as children, but she was still his sister. He’d let her down when he’d got himself sent to boarding school, but now he had the chance to make things right, he was ready to make any sacrifice necessary. He’d move heaven and earth if it would help her get well.

“Why not?” He kept his tone light.

“We don’t have to sell Lantana. Could leave Rosa in charge. Come back after…”

“Then all you’d do is worry about the resort.”

Besides, Tiny could never come back to Lantana. Not when the nearest medical care was a couple of hours away by boat. If Tiny couldn’t face the truth and accept her life could never be the same, she left him no choice but to make the hard decisions for her.

She sighed again. Her eyes didn’t so much close as drag themselves down slowly as though they had weights attached.

“You’re tired.” He moved to leave. “Sleep now, and I’ll come back later.”

“Sleeping too much.” It was little more than a whisper.

“Don’t fight it. Your body’s trying to heal. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He was walking to the door when he saw the bottle of champagne on the dresser. Crossing to it, he picked it up. It had to be the bottle he’d seen in Rosa’s bag. But why leave it in Tiny’s room?

“What’s this?” he asked, turning around.

Her eyes opened and she gave him another weary smile. That made two in one day. Something to celebrate.

“Ask Rosa,” she murmured. “Too tired to explain.”

He put the bottle back on the dresser and stared at it for a moment longer before tiptoeing out. Maybe he’d been a little too quick to judge Rosa for it, but she’d still disturbed Tiny when he’d asked her not to.

Dalton showered and changed. By the time he got back to the reception building, Mere was nowhere to be seen and Rosa was in the office that used to be Tiny’s. She was frowning at the computer and running one hand through her dark, shoulder length hair. Her hair was already a little messy, probably from the ferry ride. She was making it even messier. When she turned toward him, it was sticking up on one side.

“Oh. Hi.” She didn’t look happy to see him. Not entirely unexpected. Maybe he’d been a little hard on her, but she’d taken him by surprise.

“You have everything you need?” he asked.

She lifted her chin. “When I studied hotel management, I graduated at the top of my class. And for the last five years, I’ve been working as a Hotel Manager’s Assistant. So, I’m qualified to do this job.” Her cheeks were flushed and she challenged him with her eyes. They were remarkable eyes. When he’d first seen her, he’d thought they were grey. But in the glow of sunlight shining through the window, they were tinged with green.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s obvious you think I shouldn’t be here.”

“That’s what you inferred from me asking if you have everything you need?”

“Of course not.” She hesitated, as though waiting for him to say something else. When he didn’t, she let out a long breath. “Do you know if Tiny has a list of her suppliers?”

If his sister had an address book, she would have left it somewhere obvious. The pad on the desk obviously belonged to Rosa, and there was some very neat writing on the open page.

“Did you check her computer?” he asked.

She nodded. “I couldn’t find a file called Suppliers, and I didn’t want to open random files in case she kept private stuff on it.”

“I’ll take a look.” He leaned over to use the keyboard, and couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking down Rosa’s long, slender body. Fine boned, he’d call her. Delicate, even. But judging from the way she’d challenged him, she clearly wasn’t as fragile as she looked.

He ran a quick search of the most recently accessed files on Tiny’s computer, and when he chose a spreadsheet and double-clicked, a list of company names and phone numbers came up.

“That’s it.” Rosa peered at the document. “Now, could you find me a list of what’s been done for Saturday’s wedding and what hasn’t?”

She glanced up at him, her face close. She had a nice smell. Clean, fresh, and a little minty. As though instead of just brushing her teeth in the morning, she’d rubbed her entire body with toothpaste.

Dalton forced his attention back to the computer and searched Tiny’s files again, this time looking for anything that mentioned weddings or Saturday’s date. He found files related to older weddings, but nothing current. “Do you know the name of the couple?” he asked.

“Here.” She picked up the notepad and flipped to the previous page. It was covered with more of her impossibly neat writing, with bullet points drawn as perfect little circles. She pointed to two names printed at the top of her list.

Instead of reading them, he scanned the rest of Rosa’s list. Rain plan. Sun protection. Ceremony and reception lighting. Microphones for speeches. Music for ceremony. Band or DJ for reception. Guest allergies and food preferences…

“You’ve organized weddings before,” he said.

“I did event management as part of my degree.”

Dalton typed the couple’s names into his search parameters, looking for any occurrence. Finally, he had to shake his head. “There’s nothing.”

She made a disappointed sound. “Okay. Well, thanks for trying.” She slumped back in her chair. Then leaned forward again. “Wait. What about emails? Do you think Tiny would mind if I looked through them?

Instead of answering, he opened Tiny’s email.

“Thanks.” Rosa peered at the emails. “A lot of these haven’t been read yet. Do you want me to go through them?” She glanced at him and this close, he could clearly see the green in her irises. They were also speckled with silver, which must be why he’d initially thought they were grey. He’d never seen eyes like them.

“You’d better.” Then, because he wanted to keep her remarkable eyes focused on him, he added, “It’s a big change for you, moving here.”

Her smile was totally unexpected, especially after the way they’d been going toe-to-toe, trading verbal punches. It was a beautiful smile with an enchanting hint of mischief, and it pricked uneven dimples into her cheeks. “Lantana is even more beautiful than I thought it’d be,” she said. “I can see why Tiny loves it so much.”

Dalton leaned against her desk, disarmed by her smile. “Tiny can’t stay. She can’t get the treatment she needs here.”

“Oh?” She frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. And I hadn’t realized she was handling so much on her own. Organizing weddings, taking bookings, checking in guests, arranging tours. It must have been a lot of work. She offered me a job a few months ago, but I didn’t take it.” Rosa’s eyes dropped and she pressed her lips together. “If I’d come then, things might have been different. I thought she was trying to be nice and get me out of Sydney. I didn’t realize she actually needed help.”

It was easy to see what Rosa was thinking — her guilt was written into her face. Ridiculous to blame herself for Tiny’s stroke, but it meant that Rosa genuinely cared for his sister, and that made Dalton feel bad for being so harsh with her.

“I had no idea she was working so hard either,” Dalton said gently. “If she didn’t say anything, how were either of us expected to know?”

“You didn’t visit her much?”

He shook his head. “We spoke on the phone every week or so, but I haven’t been back to Lantana since my father’s funeral.”

“I didn’t speak to her that often, but she should have said something if she was under pressure. I wish I’d known that taking the job would help both of us.” Rosa shook her head, shifting in her chair. “Anyway, there’s even more to do now. Mere’s obviously been doing what she can, but…”

“You think you can handle it?”

Rosa lifted her chin. “Watch me.” She delivered the words in such a fierce tone, he felt himself start to smile.

Then he heard his mobile phone ring. He’d left it on his desk in the next-door office.

“I’ll be in my office if you have any more questions,” he told her as he headed for the door. “But mostly you’ll need to figure things out as you go.”

“I’ve got this.”

“I’ll bet you do,” he muttered too softly for her to hear.

When he answered the phone in his office, it was Frank, his company manager. They had a big deal in the pipeline. A chain of stores leaking money because they couldn’t compete with Amazon’s prices. He’d negotiated an excellent price to buy the entire business, and would triple his money on the buildings alone, let alone when he parceled up the stock to on-sell in smaller lots.

“I’ve emailed you the paperwork,” said Frank. “You’ll fly to Perth to work through the details?”

“Not now. I can’t leave my sister.”

Frank was silent for a moment, obviously surprised. “You sure?” he asked finally.

It was too big a deal for Frank to handle, and although Frank had been working for him a long time, the only person in the world Dalton really trusted was his sister. But she came first. Which meant he’d need to rely on Frank more than he wanted to.

“You’ll have to go to Perth,” he said. “But I’ll be back in Sydney as soon as I sell the resort.”

“The company takeover is three weeks away. We’ll need to have everything worked out by then, or the holding costs will mount quickly.”

Three weeks wasn’t long to sell the resort and do a handover to the new owner, but it would have to be enough. The profit when he sold the company’s assets would more than double his net worth. Good timing, when he thought about getting Tiny settled in a new place, with the best care money could buy.

“I’ll be back to handle the takeover,” Dalton said. He’d just have to sell the resort and get Tiny back to Sydney within the next couple of weeks.

When he hung up, he put in a call to the real estate broker he’d listed the resort with.

“Any progress?” he asked, pulling the wooden carving he’d started working on out of his drawer.

Working wood was a skill he’d taught himself as a boy, the one thing he’d kept from his childhood in Lantana. From boarding school to the boardroom, carving had always focused his mind.

Now he was working on a cane for Tiny. Its handle was smooth and easy for her to grip, and Lantana flowers curled up the cane’s stem, with small birds — silvereyes — perched among them. Though Tiny wouldn’t be able to live in Lantana anymore, she’d be able to carry a small piece of it with her. Hopefully it would be enough.

“Actually, I was going to call you today,” said the realtor. “As I mentioned before, your asking price is low. There’s been some interest, but I wanted to check the financial statements are right. They show the place has been making a loss?”

“The numbers are right. It has.” It felt strange to finally have that fact in the open, but it wasn’t as though Tiny could hear him. She’d be horrified if she knew, which was why he’d always kept it from her. And it had been easy enough. Their parents had left them equal partners in the resort, so he’d simply made regular payments to top up the bank account, and had the accountant explain them to her as tax refunds and credit readjustments. Tiny had already suffered enough, and if he could make her life easier and give her the life she loved, why not? There’d been no reason for her to know the resort wasn’t paying its way.

“Oh.” The realtor was silent a moment, then cleared her throat. “Okay. Well, that explains your asking price. And even making a loss, I think the buyer I’ve got lined up will still be interested.”

“Good. I need it sold right away, and I want the new owner to take possession within two to three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” she repeated faintly. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“The asking price is low for a reason.”

“Okay. I’ll put pressure on the buyer I’ve been talking to. If he’s serious, he’ll want to visit to take a look at the place. Have you got a room available for him to stay?”

If Mere had done as he’d asked and cancelled as many bookings as possible, they should have plenty of rooms available. “I’ll find space for him,” he promised.

After their call, Dalton leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. Through his open window, he could smell the small white Lantana flowers that grew wild all over the island. Outside in the trees, birds were singing. And faint but unmistakable, he could hear the constant sound of the waves.

His chest ached with the familiarity of it all. He’d loved this island once, before everything had gone wrong. Tiny still loved it, and he hated that he had to take her away from it. “Hard choices,” he murmured. He was no stranger to them. Nobody knew better than he did how good things could turn bad. Like the island had for him. And now it had finally turned bad for Tiny too, because staying here could kill her.

He got up and shut the window, and although he had a ton of work to do, he picked up his chisel and worked on his carving, losing himself in the satisfaction of working a shape into the wood. The shavings fell onto his desk and his floor, and that made him feel good, too. The carving process was both creation and destruction. But in his current mood, the destruction part was a whole lot more satisfying.