North Star

by Angeline M. Bishop

  “Anything,” Graham exclaimed as he slipped the ring onto the third finger of her left hand and rose to pull her into his arms. Before she would say another word, he kissed her madly. When he finished ravaging her lips, they hugged and stared up into the heavens.

  Caresse touched his cheek, drawing his attention to her. Passion glittered in his eyes, but she also saw pain and regret lurking in their depths. But she had to protect herself, her girls. “For the record, there are no more chances. If you leave my arms again, you can’t come back.”

  Graham nodded solemnly. “Understood.” He took her by the shoulders. “I promise I will never hurt you again. I love you, Caresse.”

  This time when Graham tugged her into his embrace, Caresse responded with all the passion and love she felt for this man. Several minutes later, breathless and panting, she took a small step back, pleased to note she’d had a similar effect on him. “I love you, too, Graham.”

  They stood on her front steps for a few more moments and stared up at the full moon and stars blanketing the sky. The beauty of the heavens brought them both back the night of their dinner under the stars.

  “Which one is the North Star again?” she asked as he cradled her in his arms.

  “It’s the brightest one, right there,” he said, pointing to the right. “It led me back to you.”

  Epilogue

  Six months later—New Year’s Eve

  Caresse stood atop a lavishly decorated staircase at Graham’s estate with her father, Andre, as classical music softly floated in the air. She adjusted her veil as Janet, Laila, and Diane stood quietly in front of her. The last couple months seemed to be a tornado of activity as she planned her wedding to Graham. Diane and Laila made sure the process was as painless as possible, while Janet handled the vendors with professionalism and class.

  When word spread after Graham announced his engagement, people began showing up at Caresse’s law firm daily to snap her photo for their magazines, newspapers, and entertainment couples news reports. The buzz was so distracting that she was forced to resign, so the firm could return to normal.

  Graham wanted to give her a place in the legal department of Psyche, but Caresse decided the time off was welcome because she needed to help her daughters adjust to their upcoming wedding and the new stepfamily. Afterward, she’d take an assistant director position at the Mason Center, focusing on recruiting area lawyers to provide free legal assistance to people who had little or no income.

  She’d decided on a small ceremony, so Graham’s ballroom was filled with one hundred family members, close friends, and Psyche and her law firm colleagues. With Janet’s generous help, the extravaganza was planned down to the last detail, without anyone feeling confined by time constraints.

  Yvette had happily accepted duties as Maid of Honor, while Graham’s brother, Jaiden, stood proudly as the Best Man.

  Messina and Nyla enjoyed their roles as junior bridesmaids since their new Uncle Latrell promised to let them name two of his new colts scheduled to be born in the spring.

  “Are you ready, Baby Girl?” Andre whispered to his only daughter as she tried to slow her breathing.

  “More than anything, Daddy.”

  When the door opened and revealed Caresse, dressed in a beautiful, champagne-colored Vera Wang gown, Graham became overwhelmed with emotion. He’d never thought she could look more beautiful than she did the night of the Mason Ball, but here she was, taking his breath away.

  Jaiden, Latrell, and Caresse’s brother, Xavier, stood proudly at Graham’s side as his father, Nathan, and Caresse’s mother, Valerie, watched Caresse leave her father’s arm to join Graham at the altar.

  When she reached his side, joy and happiness shone in her eyes. He took her hand in his, leaned toward her and whispered, “I love you, Caresse.”

  “I love you too.” She blushed as they turned to face the minister.

  A short while later, as many women wiped their tearful eyes, the minister asked, “Do you, Graham Nathan Sheridan, take Caresse Selena Aldana as your lawfully wedded wife?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you, Caresse Selena Aldana, take Graham Nathan Sheridan as your lawfully wedded husband?”

  “I do.”

  “Then with the power vested in me by the State of New Jersey, I now pronounce you two husband and wife. Mr. Sheridan, you may kiss your bride.

  Graham lifted her veil, gathered her into his arms, and kissed her like they were the only people in the room.

  The pastor tugged on his Graham’s sleeve and cleared his throat. “There are children presence, son.”

  Graham broke the kiss and glanced over at a red-faced Nyla and a giggling Messina. “Sorry girls, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “It’s okay, but long kisses are for your own room,” Nyla reprimanded. The guests roared with laughter.

  At the reception, Graham became captivated by each brush of his wife’s body as they danced together. If they were alone, he would have freed her from that dress by now and shown her how their self-imposed restriction on lovemaking had drove him crazy for the last couple of months.

  Caresse studied his face and he knew she saw the lust that was consuming his thoughts. “Not yet, Honey,” she said as she pulled him closer and kissed him deeply. “Just a few more hours.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he growled and pressed his erection against her hip.

  They’d decided to leave the next day for Hawaii, but Graham had every intention of enjoying every inch of his wife before the night was over. It hadn’t been easy to resist her as she worked with his sisters on their wedding, but he knew their imposed abstinence was needed to help her daughters adjust to their new family structure. He had amends to make, and if not sleeping with her before the wedding solidified her faith in him, well, it was the price he had to pay.

  They’d shared the perfect month together when Caresse and the girls had moved in and they enjoyed Christmas together.

  Every night, he would say goodnight to Caresse and the girls and watch them head to their rooms. He thought it was silly at first, because he had already slept with their mother, but when Messina reminded him that marriage always comes before babies, he knew the girls needed to see his courtship of Caresse and his commitment to love and respect her.

  Tonight, Caresse would finally be back in his bed. Correction, their bed.

  “What is that smile for?” Caresse asked as she brushed a piece of confetti from the lapel of his Armani tuxedo.

  “I can’t wait to get you alone, Mrs. Sheridan. Completely alone.”

  An hour later, after dinner was served, Laila pulled Caresse and Graham aside.

  “I hate to leave a great party, but I have a plane to catch.”

  “Hey, isn’t that our line?” Graham laughed as he stood behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Not this time, big brother,” She led them into the study and gave Caresse a large box filled with lingerie from La Perla as a wedding present. “This is for you two.”

  “You were reading my mind,” Graham said as he pick up one of the see through nighties and winked at Caresse. “I love this one, baby.”

  “It leaves little to the imagination, huh?” Caresse whispered shyly to Laila.

  “Exactly!” Graham beamed.

  Laila laughed. “Enjoy making some hot memories. I’m off to take my much needed vacation. The holidays and helping with this wedding have taken more out of me that you two could ever know, so I’m heading out before a big snowstorm blankets us again.”

  Graham and Caresse hugged her tightly. “Can’t you stay for some cake or to tell everyone goodbye?” Caresse asked as Laila grabbed her coat.

  “No time. Hey, big brother, remember to make me a niece I can spoil,” Laila said with a mischievous grin as she headed out the door.

  The cold winter air chilled them as they stood in the doorway. “Do you think Laila’s heading for fun, or running away from reminders of Malcolm?” Caresse dropped her
head on his shoulder.

  Graham shrugged as he watched his sister get into a yellow taxi. “Maybe both.” He wrapped an arm around Caresse. “Why, do I feel sorry for the men she’ll encounter on her trip?”

  “A little. I think she’s hell bent on breaking hearts and taking a few names. It’s the ritual woman go through to get over being dump by a man,” Caresse said as she shifted, then wrapped her arms around him.

  “I’m not sure there’s a city that can handle all the heartache and hell-raising she can create.”

  “Graham, darling we’ll soon find out.”

  Please turn the page for a preview of

  Book II of the Sheridan Series:

  South Beach

  by Angeline M. Bishop:

  Now available from Soul Mate Publishing.

  Chapter 1

  For the first time in months, I’m going to forget everything and everyone in New Jersey, Laila Sheridan thought as she strolled from her cab toward the Falconiere Grace Miami Beach hotel lobby. She willed herself to stop thinking about her failed relationship with Malcolm Khalid, a gifted writer with an inflated sense of what the world owed him. Earlier that afternoon, she resolved to leave her past heartaches before she took her first-class seat, but glimpses of the past started to drift into her mind during her flight to Florida. Now, as she inhaled the warm, citrus-scented air, thoughts of chilly New Jersey and its inhabitants loosened their hold and moved from her memory, like a faded Prada purse relegated to the back of her bedroom closet.

  Entering the luminous hotel, she enjoyed the gentle embrace of an ocean breeze as it whipped the hem of her lilac Valentino cocktail dress. The fabric’s movement exaggerated the normal sway of her hips, and made each step more feminine and peppy.

  A little after 8 PM, Laila approached the front desk, showed her reservation confirmation, and in her most alluring voice inquired, “Which way to my femencation?”

  She made her voice sound tempting, like a tall glass of iced coffee on a balmy summer morning. Smooth and satisfying. Rich, too, with the faintest Jersey accent reserved for the likes of Keyshia Knight Pullam and Anne Hathaway. She knew her voice would instantly cause a male reaction when she turned up her throaty timbre with potent Sheridan flare. This vacation was about relishing in her womanhood. Toying with a few males would be a safe amusement, emphasis on safe because she had no intention of dealing with any strong male egos.

  The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of the mouth of the Latino clerk before he located her information in the hotel computer. “Your party is now scheduled to enjoy the ocean view terrace of our Sapienti restaurant for dinner. We can take your coat and belongings to the La Baie Presidential suite so you can join them.”

  She inclined her head in a small gesture of thanks then flashed her ID, and watched as he moved a form forward for her signature as he simultaneously placed her room key on the counter.

  Laila took in the slight gleam in his eye and grinned, her mind too busy with thoughts of her friends to think too heavily about the open adoration. An Italian meal after a long flight was all that she needed. Well, as long as an inviting glass of Pinot Grigio accompanied it. She took her electronic key and placed them into her Chloè bag. “That’s fine, just point me in the right direction.”

  She loved being the woman that put the ‘fem’ in Femencationer. It was a word she came up with to define any group of female friends whose ties go back as far as childhood or college that seek a high-end, luxury getaway experience. A vacation with all the feminine delights women dream of enjoying. This year’s femencation united three alumnus of the University of Florida and marked the start of the year to forget old sorrows and usher in new adventures.

  As Laila strolled toward the Sapienti restaurant, she stopped when her shiny complexion caught her attention in a mirror that hung in the side hall corridor. She looked good for thirty-one but preferred to say she was in her late twenties when vacationing because no one over thirty, in their right mind, would party the way she planned to. She blotted her face and secretly wished she was meeting her friends under better circumstances but with Sofìa’s pending divorce from the famous sports announcer Sean Vega, they all needed a break from reality. This trip was the perfect reason to release stress.

  When Laila arrived at the restaurant, several male heads turned in appreciation as she silently commanded the wait staff’s attention.

  “I’m with the Vega/Sheridan/Carter party,” she announced as she surveyed the room.

  “Your party has already been seated. John will you escort Mrs. . . .?”

  “Ms. Sheridan,” she corrected, before pretending to lose her balance to mask her reason for placing a hand around John’s bicep. She tried to suppress a giggle that threatened to expose the disingenuous nature of her performance. “Please excuse me,” she said, wobbling toward him, “I had a long flight. Johnny, could you show me the way?”

  They moved effortlessly through the patrons seated at their tables until Laila crossed the threshold of the balcony. The sight of her friends a few yards away made her light up like a five-year-old at a surprise party.

  Laila stepped quickly as she approached Sofìa and Marina, who were enjoying their conversation and shrimp cocktails appetizers. She blurted, scarcely aware of the rasp of excitement in her own voice, “Here I am, straight off the plane. Where’s the love?”

  Marina Carter squealed with laughter and rose to hug Laila tightly. “Oh, girl, you look great!” Genuine excitement radiated from her eyes as she peered into Laila’s face. Marina was a petite, yet voluptuous black woman with inquisitive eyes and a contagious smile. Her shoulder-length curly hair was tamed away from her face by beige-framed sunglasses resting on her head. Her sundress, a charming beige and light blue number with a matching cardigan that reminded Laila of her favorite elementary school teacher.

  “And why shouldn’t I?” Laila’s silky voice held a challenge. “We’re in South Beach, right?”

  “You know it!” An amused look suddenly warmed Marina’s eyes.

  “Could you two take it down a few notches?” Dr. Sofìa Barea-Vega demanded. She remained seated and frowned before she forced a demure smile to the people seated next to them. “You’re causing a scene.”

  Laila dismissed the reprimand with a wave of the hand and shot her best friend one of her mega-watt smiles, which caused Sofìa to roll her eyes and return her gaze to her menu. It was a far cry from the happy, attractive, vacationer Laila had hoped to find on this trip.

  On the surface, Sofìa was a fashionable, smart dresser with a strong professional flare. She wore an orange halter top with bellowing white linen pants accented with a bold gold necklace, belt, and watch. Yet the happy colors were a strong contrast to the frown plastered to her face and the apparent weight loss to her alluding frame.

  Laila took her place between her girlfriends, as Marina poured her a glass of Italian white wine. “I can see that someone’s high-profiled marriage is really doing a number on them. When did you start caring what other people think?”

  Sofìa toyed with the appetizer in front of her, as if boredom overshadowed the faint hint of a worried brow. A sullen look on the very attractive Latina annoyed Laila because it was in direct contrast to the lively mood she and Marina were basking in. There was only one way to lift Sofia’s spirits. It had worked in college and she prayed it would work in this case.

  Laila took a hearty sip of wine and sullied her face by drawing her perfectly plucked brows together. She made herself look as serious as possible as she squared her shoulders and winked at Marina to play along. Then she turned all of her attention toward their brooding best friend.

  Laila lowered her voice to a volume just a hair above a whisper, being purposefully mysterious. “Could you do me a big favor, Sofìa?”

  Sofìa looked up from the wine menu at Laila and Marina and concern washed over her features. Two deep lines of worry appeared between her eyes as she leaned forward and placed her hand on Laila’s forea
rm. “Anything, La La. What is it?”

  “Could you please remove that painful stick from your behind because it’s destroying my sunny disposition?”

  Marina laughed richly as Sofìa recoiled and crossed her arms under her breasts. “Oh, you got jokes, huh?”

  Laila and Marina tossed back their heads and rocked with laughter like two high school teenagers as Sofìa sat rigid like a frustrated, overworked parent. It was amazing how frowning aged her about seven years.

  “Not jokes . . . observations.” Laila brought her hand up to her mouth to stifle her giggle. “And, believe me, after our ultimate South Beach trip, you’ll have a different way of seeing things too.”

  Sofìa returned her attention to her menu and began looking over the selections. “You think?” she asked in her usual disconnected medical voice.

  “I know!” Laila composed herself as Marina signaled a waiter and gave Laila’s food order. “Hey, I get it. Sean ripped your heart out and kicked it like a football, but wearing a foul mood on a vacation is like wearing last year’s bathing suit after losing fifteen pounds. It’s totally non-supportive to the festive environment and unattractive to my eyes. Do I need to remind you of the Sofìa you were before he placed that ring on your finger? You were strong, confident, and—”

  “I’m still strong and confident and whatever else is on the list.”

  “And fun, Sofìa! You were a lot of fun! Don’t you remember how we celebrated in Florida after you got your residency in Chicago?”

  Laila watched as recognition finally reached her friend’s eyes and warmed her face. “Yes, I do. We crashed the Gator Ball in Gainesville.” Sofìa bit her lip to stifle a grin, before she met Laila’s concerned gaze. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be.” Laila continued to force Sofìa to loosen up. “We have two weeks to let our hair down and get back our feminine power. So we’re going to enjoy some much-needed relaxation by using men for our enjoyment. They will draw our baths, massage our bodies, and serve us wonderful food. By the time we step back into our lives our heads will be clear and focused.”