Starfish Island

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by Brown, Deborah




  STARFISH ISLAND

  DEBORAH BROWN

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  STARFISH ISLAND

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright @ 2016 Deborah Brown

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted, materials.

  STARFISH ISLAND

  Copyright @2016 Deborah Brown

  Cover: Louisa Maggio, LM Creations

  PARADISE BOOKS

  Table of Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  About the Author

  Paradise Series

  Excerpt from Crazy in Paradise

  STARFISH ISLAND

  Chapter One

  NICOLE SPED RECKLESSLY over the wooden bridge and past a row of mailboxes—one of which belonged to her now—breezing by the weathered metal sign that said “Welcome to Starfish Island.” Another sign warned that it was private property, but there was no guard or fence to keep out joyriders with nothing better to do. The woman at the wheel of the open, black BMW convertible pushed the accelerator twenty miles over the limit, throwing caution to the wind as she sped around the island’s curvy roads.

  Since turning off the interstate a few miles back, she’d had the unnerving feeling that she was being followed. Several times, she’d spotted a black Escalade changing lanes when she did. “Impossible,” she whispered. It had turned off before she crossed over onto the island. Enjoying the cool air whipping through her long red hair and the sun kissing her face, she drew in a deep breath and smiled, slowly relaxing.

  Lost in thought, she almost missed the sudden sharp curve to the left. She slammed on the brakes. The car swerved to the side of the road and barely escaped a head-on crash with a large pickup truck laden with tools and saws. She maneuvered out of the skid and brought her car to a halt with the front bumper resting against a tree.

  She jumped out of her convertible and ran back to confront the truck’s owner, a dark-haired man wearing a pair of well-fitting jeans. His shoulders were wide and sweat dripped off him in rivers. His eyes, a deep shade of cobalt blue, bored into her, enormous and angry in a face drained of color despite his tan.

  “What the heck is the matter with you, leaving your truck in the middle of the road where someone could run into it? I could’ve killed you!” she said, gasping for breath. She worked to steady her nerves. “Of all the stupid places to park. And you men have the nerve to complain about women drivers.”

  His eyes flickered casually over her body, head to toe, as if taking in every curve. She noticed a slight lift to the corner of his mouth that she might easily have missed if she weren’t paying attention. His gaze lingered slowly over her rather short, hot-pink sundress before returning to her face. “More than likely, you would have ended up twisted and mangled between two of our hundred-year-old white oaks,” he retorted. “All roads have two sides, and this one is no exception. Wouldn’t it have been safer to slow to the posted speed limit before taking the curve? And one more thing. If you look carefully, you’ll see that my truck is parked on its own side of the road.”

  The scorn in his voice, and the realization that she’d been entirely in the wrong, brought a wave of color to Nicole’s cheeks, burning them bright red and bringing out the deep color of her emerald eyes. She glanced away, embarrassed, and noticed a temporary sign on the side of the man’s truck, proclaiming him to be a local who’d volunteered to clear roads after a storm.

  “You tell her!” came a voice from over their heads.

  She looked up quickly. A man was staring down at them from the top of a ladder leaning against a nearby tree. She guessed him to be in his early twenties, younger than the other man by about ten years. His grin widened and he shifted his position, as if determined not to miss a minute of the skirmish below.

  Nicole turned back to the other man and resisted the urge to make a face, stepping back from his hard blue eyes. Never breaking eye contact, he began pulling off his large leather gloves one finger at a time, his lips pressed into a thin line. Their eyes locked in a silent battle, and she felt a shiver race up her spine. He looked as if he wanted to strangle her, and she wasn’t sure he wasn’t planning on doing just that. Hard-bodied, he had the look of a sleek, powerful animal ready to wrestle his prey into his control. She had to admit, he reeked of sexiness. She knew her thoughts didn’t show on her face; the mask she’d honed for that purpose had been well rehearsed, and she didn’t allow for failure. Slowly, she ran her eyes over the length of his body in the same insolent way he’d scanned hers from head to toe. His bronzed skin and well-defined muscles suggested he wasn’t afraid of hard work.

  His eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened, smirking, communicating that he was the man in charge and she’d never win at this game. Her heart skipped a beat. Handsome, chiseled, perfect—she wanted to run her fingers over his jaw and kiss his lips. Angry at herself for damn-near drooling, she looked away and forced herself under control.

  “I’m sorry. This is my fault,” she admitted. She tried to sound sincere but knew she fell short and hoped that maybe he wouldn’t notice. She hated to apologize and tried never to do anything that required her to. “I’m determined to make it to the far side of the island before dark. I let all the fresh air blowing off the Atlantic lure me away from sensible thought.” She noticed she was doing all the talking and bit her lower lip, wondering how sarcastic she’d come off. Typical! She had a way of creating drama in her life at the most inappropriate times. “As the sun went down, my thoughts wandered, and then I thought I was being—” She chopped off her words. No excuses! “I’m Nicole Alexander.” She smiled.

  The man on the ladder, who was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, whistled and slid to the ground with acrobatic ease. His hair was a sun-bleached light brown, his skin sunburned over a tan, and he had laughing brown eyes. “So you’re moving into your inheritance. Nice to—” His friendly greeting was cut short by the other man.

  “It’s all yours,” he said, pointing toward where the road made another bend, “starting at the wrought-iron fence over there.” He walked away to pack up a chain saw.

  According to the lawyer, the island only had a dozen residents, each with several acres. That was almost unheard of these days, as most available land was chopped into smaller parcels to make room for rows of cookie-cutter houses and strip malls. She looked in the direction he pointed. A grouping of white clouds hung low over the top of a rambling house. From this
distance, the windows appeared to be hanging out over the water as the last of the sunlight shone through them in golden streaks.

  “My house?” Nicole said eagerly.

  “If you’re Nicole Alexander, it is,” the older man said, packing up more tools. “Where are your car keys?”

  “In the ignition.”

  “If you want to see your house before dark, we’d better leave.” He held out his hand.

  She tried to ignore his outstretched palm, but he lost patience and grabbed her hand, gripping firmly and forcing her to take hold.

  “I’ll drive so you’ll get there in one piece. Can you get the rest of this, Jake?” he said to the other man. “I’ll see you at the house later.”

  Nicole seethed at the man’s high-handed attitude. She hated being told what to do. “Thank you, I’ll drive myself,” she said icily, unsuccessfully trying to jerk her hand away. “We haven’t even been introduced.”

  His eyes shot sparks as he dropped her hand. Clearly, no one had told him no before. “Michael Edwards, your neighbor on the opposite side of the island.” When she ignored his outstretched hand again, he swept her up and deposited her in the passenger seat of her convertible, reaching across her and snapping the seatbelt into place. “Don’t even think about getting out of this car until we reach your house. You will not be allowed to kill one of your neighbors, or one of their beloved pets, tonight.” He walked around and slid behind the wheel.

  Jake walked over. “Nice to meet you, Nicole. Don’t be afraid to drive with my brother; he’s a bit arrogant, but he’ll get you home safely.” His eyes danced with laughter. “You better hurry before the ocean snatches the last of the daylight.”

  Damn her neighbors! Time to change tactics; it was her fault she’d gotten off on the wrong foot with them. She turned back to Michael. “Thank you for the escort.”

  For the first time since she’d made her dramatic entrance, the man’s strong face softened. His eyes lost their steely quality, and she found herself staring into two dark-blue pools that held a sexual intensity. She unconsciously licked her lips, biting the lower one. Their eyes locked.

  The sound of an engine and a car horn shattered the moment.

  “Michael! Michael!”

  The voice came from another open convertible that came slowly around the curve. It was a more cautious approach than her own had been, Nicole admitted. The blond beauty pulled her Mercedes alongside the BMW and cut the engine. She flashed Nicole a dismissive glance, concentrating on Michael. She jumped from her car and ran to him.

  “Sweetheart, here you are!” The woman leaned in and ran her hand possessively down his chest, enveloping him in an awkward hug. “I called the house and was told you were out cleaning up storm debris, laboring for your little community instead of waiting for the city trucks to come out here. You’re invited to dinner. Please?” she purred.

  “I’m sorry, Kat; I have plans for tonight. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m on a deadline,” he said as he started the engine.

  Kat looked at Nicole in a disdainful way, arching her perfectly sculpted eyebrow before turning her attention back to Michael. “You can’t be in that much of a hurry.”

  Nicole’s cheeks burned. Why was she sitting here listening to a conversation that didn’t involve her? Because she’d been forced to by this overbearing man and didn’t want to make another scene on her first night here.

  “I’ll talk to you later, Kat,” Michael said, returning his full attention to Nicole and effectively dismissing the other woman. “Let’s go.” He pulled out onto the two-lane highway. After a slight pause, he added, “I’m sorry that Kat was so rude.”

  “No worries. She probably didn’t enjoy being rebuffed in front of another woman. I would want to hurt you about now.”

  “Katrina Lewis lacks subtlety. Our days of being a couple are long over, but she doesn’t like the word no.”

  Nicole made no comment, thinking the same thing could be said about him. She looked in the side mirror and saw the truck Jake was driving disappear in the opposite direction. The Mercedes made a U-turn, following the truck down the road.

  Michael smiled at her warmly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Caroline that I feel like I already know you. We got all the large branches cleared and recruited some neighbors from Plumeria Island, who’ll be here tomorrow to clean all the smaller debris off the roadway. The roads can get real dangerous, especially after a hurricane. We don’t want any accidents.” Without looking away from the road, he reached over and squeezed her hand. “That’s a perk to living in a cluster of small islands—we all get to know one another and help out when called.”

  “It’s so beautiful. I love the peace and quiet.”

  “The best part about Starfish Island is that we have a slice of both small town living and the big city, since Miami is just a few miles back over the causeway.” He turned to look at her before continuing. “You’re finally getting color back in your cheeks. Your face turned as white as a sheet when you narrowly missed the truck.”

  “I’m actually enjoying being the passenger; it lets me take in the view of the water and the last of the sailboats coming back to dock.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m excited and can’t wait to see my new home.” She was aware of the intensity of his stare. Talk about instant chemistry! She fought with herself, trying not to imagine herself naked in his arms. She chuckled...too much late-night reading.

  “Nicole, you’re not planning on living in that big house by yourself, I hope?”

  “I am—and why shouldn’t I?” she asked crossly, jerking her hand from his. “None of your business,” sat on the tip of her tongue. Of all the irritating… she fumed. She saw no reason to tell him that the reason she’d arrived alone was that she had no family. Years ago, her father had died in a car accident, and it hadn’t taken long for her mother to say “I do” to an abusive, controlling man. One night, her mother “accidentally” overdosed on depression medication. Now Nicole only had a stepfather, who she never saw and rarely spoke to. She didn’t have a single fond memory of him. Thankfully, the bruises he’d inflicted over the years had gone away, except for the scar that ran along her shoulder blade. It had faded, but was still a reminder never to voice an opinion in opposition to his.

  “Because,” Michael said bluntly, “there’s no security system in that large house. Have you spoken with Ellis Sadler?”

  “I’ve only spoken to Mr. Sadler a few times on the phone. How did you know he was my lawyer? You seem to know a great deal about me, and I know nothing about you.” He’d soon find out how much she hated following orders. She seldom listened and, if really annoyed, would deliberately do the opposite of what was demanded of her.

  “I’m the executor of the will. He handles the details, but every piece of paperwork requires my signature.”

  That surprised her. Mr. Sadler had led her to believe that he made the decisions. She had requested a copy of the will, but he’d put her off with one excuse or another and never sent one.

  “You’re big news around here, ever since your grandmother died and it was discovered she had a granddaughter. Before you, the hot topic was Old Man Russell, who died in his mistress’s bed over on Conch Island. Get used to people wanting to know your business. Caroline chose to have Ellis, her attorney, handle all estate affairs, even after her death, rather than relying on an attorney who specialized in wills and probate.” His eyes quietly assessed her. “Did Ellis tell you that someone broke into the house the day after your grandmother’s death?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “No, he didn’t say a word.”

  Michael looked back at her, a protective expression on his face. “As far as we can tell, nothing was stolen, but the place was pretty well ransacked. Friends of Caroline’s are waiting anxiously to meet the young woman the eccentric left her fortune and house to. Some are also curious because you’re the daughter of her son Edgar, who, as rumor has it, she hadn’t
spoken to for years before he died.”

  “One thing Mr. Sadler did mention was that Grandmother had made another will, but that it couldn’t be found and the court had accepted the will in my favor. Do you know anything about it?”

  “What does it matter?” he asked, dodging the question. “You’re here, and I think Caroline Alexander made a good choice.”

  “Tell me then, why do I get the gut feeling you’re being terribly evasive? What is it you’re not telling me?”

  “I just don’t like the idea of you being out here by yourself, the nearest neighbor a half-mile away,” he said as he pulled into a cut-out on the side of the road and let the engine die. “This is the very edge of your property. From this vantage point, you can see the ocean and, if you listen closely, hear the crash of the waves pounding against the rocks.”

  The day waned as the sun sank slowly in the sky. The little alcove had tall palm trees with long branches lining the way down to the sand. The palms were interspersed with a variety of flowering tropical plants. Beyond, the turquoise water of the ocean glistened, the air clear, everything kissed clean by the torrential rains that had rolled through earlier. The two-story Craftsman-style home looked as though it was a natural part of the land.

  Michael caressed the back of Nicole’s neck, and she wanted to lean into his hand and sigh. She sat motionless for a moment, listening to the sound of the waves off in the distance and watching as a cruise ship passed through Biscayne Bay on its way to the open ocean. She wondered why she was so attracted to this man.

  “Don’t let the size of this place intimidate you, Nicole. It will be my pleasure to keep an eye on you.”

  “I’m just a bit confused. I’m surprised Grandmother left everything to me, especially since we didn’t have a relationship, and I’m surprised there were no other relatives. There’s nothing like a death in the family to bring out all the relatives you never knew you had.”

 

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