Starfish Island

by Brown, Deborah

  Nicole half-expected Michael to say good-bye at that point, but he showed no intention of going anywhere. She shivered involuntarily as he opened the front door.

  “All the bad guys are in jail,” he reminded her.

  “I’m thinking about going away for a while,” Nicole told him.

  He looked at her intently as he led her into the library. “Away? Where?”

  “Back to the Santa Fe area,” she said. Really, she had no desire to go back there and had said the first thing that came to mind. What she really wanted was to stay and be with Michael, but they’d never discussed a future. Ultimately, she needed to decide if Starfish Island was where she wanted to live.

  Michael cupped her face between his hands and searched her face. “Nicole Alexander, you know you’ll never turn your back on everything your grandmother left you.”

  “I’m just not sure.”

  “I am. Have you forgotten how well I know you? All the time I spent getting to know you?” He stroked her hair, pulling her even closer, and squeezed her bottom.

  “That’s right. I have you to thank for all this, don’t I?” She laughed.

  “The lady is laughing. That’s a good sign.” He kissed her lightly. “I want to talk about us.”

  “Us?”

  “We’ve grown closer over the last few days.”

  “Michael—”

  He covered her lips lightly with his fingers. “Let me finish. I don’t want you going anywhere. Stay here. We’ll face everything together, lean on each other. Don’t shut the door on something good that we could have together.”

  “We may find one another boring now that all the excitement has gone out of our lives.”

  Michael laughed. “Were you bored even once in the past week?”

  “Hmm…” she teased.

  His hands caressed her neck, his fingers sliding across her shoulders until she shivered. “I’m not going to stop telling you this, so you’d better start believing me,” he said in a throaty voice. “You’re mine, Nicole Alexander. I love you.”

  She took a deep breath, very sure of her feelings. “I love you back. Are you all mine?”

  A deep laugh rumbled up his throat. “I have been since I first met you.”

  EPILOGUE

  NICOLE’S STOMACH TURNED queasy as the yacht went over another wave. She planted her feet firmly on the deck and held onto the wall as she walked to the stool to finish her makeup. Michael had made all the arrangements for them to be married on his boat in the middle of Biscayne Bay.

  Her nerves were in a knot. She’d dreamt of this day as a childhood fantasy for as long as she could remember, and it had finally arrived. Nicole focused on the day ahead as her almost-sister-in-law made some final adjustments, fussing over her unruly hair, which clearly had a mind of its own and was in no mood to make it easy.

  “Here’s something borrowed.” Cecilia took a velvet bag from her purse and pulled out a pearl-studded hairclip. “I wore this at my wedding.”

  She swept Nicole’s red hair off her neck, using the clip to hold together the riot of curls. Nicole sat patiently while her friend fussed with the wispy tendrils on the sides of her face, a light touch of makeup accentuating her tan skin.

  “Are you ready?” Cecilia’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

  Nicole sighed. “I don’t know. Am I?” she asked no one in particular.

  “Yes, you are. You look beautiful.” Victoria, one of her bridesmaids, finished hooking the back of her dress. She took Nicole by the hand and pulled her up off the stool. “You’re going to take Michael’s breath away. Are you ready to look in the mirror?”

  Nicole turned to the full-length mirror. She didn’t recognize herself. The woman who stared back at her was breathtaking in her sculpted strapless gown, tulle overlay, seed-pearl-embroidered bodice, and short train. She couldn’t remember ever looking as beautiful as she did in that moment. She felt her eyes stinging and used every ounce of strength to hold back the tears. This was no time for crying; she was about to marry the man she loved.

  “Oh, Jake told me to give this to you, for the something old. It’s from Michael.” Victoria made a face at the old part. “It’s Caroline’s favorite necklace. Apparently, she gave it to Michael and asked him to give it to you when you got married. Caroline would have loved to see you wearing it.” She wrapped the gold chain around Nicole’s neck, adjusting the heart-shaped gold filigree locket.

  Cecilia walked over to her. “Here is something new.” She pulled a white lace garter from behind her back, twirling it on her finger.

  Nicole was close to tears at the outpouring of love she felt from her new family and friends. “I love you ladies so much. Thank you for making this day so special.” She pulled them in for a group hug, and they only let go when someone knocked at the door and called, “It’s time!”

  Nicole and her two friends lined up to go down the white carpet into the main cabin. She remembered her first meeting with Michael and laughed. She’d blamed him for driving erratically when she was the one who’d almost run him down. From their first kiss, he’d taken her breath away. He’d refused to let her move back to Santa Fe, threatening to kidnap her until she realized she didn’t want to leave Starfish Island. Since then, they hadn’t spent a night apart; and a month later, he’d planned a surprise picnic dinner on the beach and asked her to marry him. She’d accepted without hesitation.

  They’d made a deal with each other when they realized that they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. They both lived busy lifestyles, but they would always make time for each other.

  Nicole’s jumbled thoughts were interrupted when Sebastian, Michael’s best friend, took her hand. “It’s time to go, love.” It was then that she realized the women were gone and she was next.

  The Bridal March filled the boat as Sebastian led her up the steps to the top deck. It was decorated stunningly with pink and white roses, but the only thing Nicole saw was her handsome, soon-to-be husband standing at the end of her path.

  Michael looked elegant in his white tuxedo. He stared into her eyes as she walked toward him, stopping before him.

  “We are gathered here today…” the minister said as he began the ceremony. Nicole felt a wide smile bloom across her face in response. She finally understood what it was to be in love and was happy that she and Michael were finally about to become husband and wife.

  “Who gives this woman to be married?” the Edwards family minister asked.

  “We do,” Jake and Sebastian said in unison. They had joined her on the white carpet, standing on either side of her.

  Michael stepped forward, and Nicole took his outstretched hand.

  “The couple has written their own vows, which they will now share. Michael, would you like to go first?”

  Michael nodded and took both of Nicole’s hands. “Nicole Alexander, I stand before you now as a man in love, one who knows that he cannot live another day without you. I take you as my wife and my best friend. I promise to love, honor, and cherish you. I promise to protect you and stand by you, no matter what road life takes us on. I promise to never leave your side and to love you for as long as I live. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love.” He slid the ring onto her finger as tears slid down her face.

  “Michael, I promise to spend the rest of my life loving you. To show you how much I appreciate and value you. I promise to never leave your side. I will be with you forever, loving you always. In good times and bad, I will be here. I will respect and honor you…” She leaned forward and whispered, “and will only obey you sometimes.”

  Michael laughed. Jake overheard and repeated the last part, and every guest on the deck erupted in laughter.

  “I give you this ring as a symbol of my unending love,” she continued as she slid it onto his finger.

  “By the power vested in me,” the minister said, beaming, “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Michael swept Nicole into his ar
ms, thoroughly claiming her lips until they heard a couple of guests clearing their throats. The minister presented them as Mr. and Mrs. Michael Edwards, and their guests cheered.

  The reception flew by. The first dance, speeches, and pictures were all framed with the blue-green water of the bay as their background. Nicole looked around, wide-eyed, happy for the friends she’d made who shared their special day. Finally, the reception reached its end and the boat returned to shore. Before disembarking, Nicole took off her garter and threw it to Victoria with a wink.

  The happy couple got into a waiting limo that took them straight to the Fontainebleau Hotel on Miami Beach, where they rode the elevator up to the penthouse suite.

  Michael lifted Nicole over the threshold, and their pent-up passion made itself known. They hadn’t made love in over two weeks, building anticipation for their wedding night. Michael helped Nicole out of her wedding dress, and they took a long and luxurious bath together.

  She smiled and slid up his body to kiss him deeply before lifting her head to look into his loving eyes. “I love you.”

  He lifted her out of the bathtub, wrapping her in an oversized white bath towel, and placed her on the rose-petal-covered bed. He kissed her softly on the lips and ran his hands over the length of her naked body.

  “I love you, wife,” he told her.

  Nicole laughed. “That sounds weird. Your wife.”

  “Yes, that’s what you are. My wife,” he said, kissing his way down her body. He placed his lips on her most sensitive spot, and she moaned as he moved his tongue over her while his hands massaged her breasts.

  He moved his body above hers and slowly entered her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Leaning down, he whispered, “You feel even better now that you’re all mine.”

  He moved within her as she writhed beneath him, whispering his name. She pressed her breasts against him as she placed a teasing kiss on his lips.

  Every groan, sigh and stroke brought them closer and closer to the edge. Finally, they both let go, climaxing together as they yelled each other’s names.

  Nicole fell asleep in the arms of her husband, completely sated and content and looking forward to the rest of their lives.

  Dear Reader:

  Thank you for purchasing my first romance novel.

  I hope you enjoy reading it

  as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Deborah Brown is an Amazon bestselling author of the Paradise series. She lives in South Florida, with her ungrateful animals, where Mother Nature takes out her bad attitude in the form of hurricanes.

  Sign up for my newsletter on my website and get the latest on new books releases. Contest and special promotion information. And special offers that are only available to subscribers.

  Visit her website at http://deborahbrownbooks.com

  You can contact her at Wildcurls@hotmail.com

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  Deborah’s books are available on Amazon

  http://www.amazon.com/Deborah-Brown/e/B0059MAIKQ

  PARADISE SERIES NOVELS

  Crazy in Paradise

  Deception in Paradise

  Trouble in Paradise

  Murder in Paradise

  Greed in Paradise

  Revenge in Paradise

  Kidnapped in Paradise

  Swindled in Paradise

  Enjoy an excerpt from Crazy in Paradise, Book One of the Paradise series

  CRAZY

  IN

  PARADISE

  Deborah Brown

  Chapter 1

  There should be a law in South Florida that a person can’t die during the summer. The death of a loved one was hard enough without the added humiliation of sweat. I felt it rolling down my back, like a stream trapped by the belt of my dress with nowhere to go.

  My name is Madison Elizabeth Westin, and I’m seated at the funeral of my favorite aunt, people watching, of all things. Most of the mourners looked ready for a pool party, some of them in shorts and bathing suit cover-ups. I was the only one dressed in black; even my brother wore khaki shorts.

  The minister began, “We are gathered here today to give thanks for the life of Elizabeth Ruth Hart, who shared herself with us. It is in her memory we come together and, for all she meant to us, we are thankful.”

  My mother had named me after her older sister. Elizabeth was like a second mother to my brother Brad and me. We spent summers with her in Florida, running and playing on the beach, building sandcastles, and she was a regular visitor to our home in South Carolina.

  After five years of not seeing her, I had packed for a several-month stay and planned to spend the summer with her. That’s when I got a phone call from her lawyer telling me she had died. I still found it difficult to believe it had happened so suddenly.

  When I walked into the funeral home earlier, the heat had smothered me; this main room was suffocating. The air conditioning wasn’t working and it felt as though it was more than one hundred degrees. The director, Dickie Vanderbilt, had apologized for that, telling me that the central unit had gone out earlier in the day. He informed me he had all of the ceiling fans on high, which, in my opinion, were only circulating hot air.

  Dickie Vanderbilt gave me the creeps. He had a slight build, pasty white skin, and long skinny fingers. When he reached out to touch my arm, I tried hard not to squirm.

  I’m not a big fan of shaking hands. I find people only want to shake your hand when they can see you’re not interested. A friend suggested I perfect the dog paw shake for those who insist. I extend my hand like a paw and let it hang loose. Often times, they jerk their hand away and give me an odd stare, which makes me want to laugh every time.

  The minister rambled on. I found him to be uninteresting, his speech dry. He talked about Elizabeth as though she were a stranger to him and everyone here. Apparently, Elizabeth’s jerk attorney, Tucker Davis, hadn’t given the minister any information about her. I didn’t understand why my aunt left all of the details of her funeral to Tucker. Why would she exclude the people who loved her and knew her best from having input? I wished I had one more day to walk along the beach to laugh, talk, and collect shells with her.

  On Sunday, Tucker called to inform me that Elizabeth had died in her sleep from a heart attack. “The funeral is Wednesday, 1:00 p.m. at Tropical Slumber Funeral Home on Highway 1 in Tarpon Cove,” he told me.

  “I want to help plan the funeral.”

  “All of the arrangements have been made.” He sounded impatient, emphasizing his words. “If you want to, you can call anyone else you think should be informed.”

  “My aunt would’ve wanted her family to be involved in the decision-making for her funeral. After all, my mother, brother, and I are the only family she had.”

  “Elizabeth appointed me executor. She left me written instructions for everything she wanted done after her death, including her funeral.”

  I didn’t believe him. Elizabeth loved us. She never would’ve excluded her family in this way, knowing how important it would be to us.

  “I oversaw all of the arrangements myself. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied. If you have any other questions you can call my assistant, Ann.” He hung up the phone.

  My aunt never once mentioned Tucker Davis to me or anyone else in the family. Here he was, a stranger, handling her estate.

  The next day, I called the lawyer back to tell him that Elizabeth’s sister Madeline, her nephew Brad, and I, would attend. He refused to take my phone call, and I was frustrated.

  “This is Madison Westin. May I speak with Tucker Davis?”

  “I’m Ann, Mr. Davis’s assistant. He’s not accepting calls at this time. Can I help you with something?�
��

  “I wanted to ask again if there was anything I could do in preparation for Elizabeth Hart’s funeral? Surely, you can understand how her family would want to be involved in any final decisions.”

  “Mrs. Hart wanted Mr. Davis to make those arrangements, and he has. She didn’t indicate that she wanted anyone else involved in the planning. I can assure you he’s seen to all of the details. He worked directly with Mr. Vanderbilt at the funeral home.”

  “I’ll be arriving later today. Would you tell Mr. Davis I’m available to help with anything that needs to be done? He can reach me at Elizabeth’s house.”

  “Does Mr. Davis know you plan to stay in Mrs. Hart’s house?”

  “I don’t need Mr. Davis’ permission. I’ve never stayed anywhere but the Cove Road house, and this trip won’t be any different. If Mr. Davis has a problem with my staying there, he can call me,” I said.

  “Any more messages?” Ann sniffed and, without waiting for a response, hung up on me.

  * * *

  Tarpon Cove is an unsophisticated beach town situated at the top of the Keys off the Overseas Highway, which begins just north of Key Largo and ends in Key West. Tropical Slumber Funeral Home is located on the main street that runs through town. In a previous life, the building had obviously been a drive-thru fast food restaurant, the kind where you drove through the center of the building to place your order for a hot dog and fries. The new owners hadn’t even bothered to take down the concrete picnic tables that were on the side of the building. But they had replaced the old metal umbrellas with tropical thatched-style ones. A red carpet ran from the parking lot to the front door and continued to the door of the hearse parked behind the building.