BETWEEN CLOUDS AND STARS: A Sexy Standalone Romance by Sharlyn G. Branson

just about to go when John appeared at the front door. He was furious. He shot Mason through the heart and Pamela in the head without batting an eyelid. It was horrible…just horrible. But that wasn’t enough for him. He kicked the shit out of me and then threw me at the wall. I fell down the stairs, hit my head on the landing, and lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was told I’d been in a coma for five days. The doctors had begun to think I’d never wake up… But I proved them wrong. My arm and leg were broken. I had bruises and scrapes all over my body and stitches behind my ear. But I survived.”
    Nick’s hands were sliding soothingly along my back and hair when he said, “John’s in prison and will never be able to hurt you again.”
    I looked up to meet his eyes. He guessed my unspoken question and replied, “I checked his file. Not only is he guilty of murdering your adoptive parents, but he was also involved in gunrunning.”
    “How do you know this?”
    “I told you I wanted to know everything about you. But I wanted to hear about your past from you personally. I wanted to hear you say it as proof that you trust me. Thank you for telling me.” His thumbs gently caressed my cheeks. “I admire you, Estelle. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
    “I love you, Nick.” I loved him more than anything in the world.

12
    Nick
    A fter I calmed Estelle down and ensured she felt much more relaxed, I took care of her bodily needs. We made slow and passionate love. I gave my girl all the tenderness and attention she deserved. And she responded in kind. The sensation was completely different. I was usually into hard and fast fucking, but with Miss Klide, it was divine. With her, I also enjoyed doing it gentle and slow. It satisfied me to satisfy her. I didn’t feel resentful for not getting mine. This could not be mistaken for anything but love.
    The next day, I decided to invite Ted Johnson, the only married friend I had, to come along with his family for lunch. He owned a real estate company. It was with his help that I’d bought the house in the Hamptons. After the incident with Cassandra and Ron in my office, I wanted to mitigate the situation by showing Estelle that my circle of friends didn’t consist only of womanizers and perverts, but serious men like Ted too. I needed to present myself in a better light in front of my girl.
    During lunch, I couldn’t stop admiring my woman and how good she was with Ted and Mary’s daughter. Agony gripped my heart at the thought that Estelle couldn’t have her own kids. If things were different, we’d make very beautiful babies. Seeing her swollen belly, with my child inside, would make me infinitely happy.
    I decided it wasn’t time yet to think about that. If everything between us continued to go as well as it had so far, I knew I wouldn’t give up on her. I’d go to every private practice, consult with every specialist out there, and if nothing helped, only then would we consider our options. Not now. I wasn’t ready to be a father yet.
    Vicky was four years old and, like many kids her age, couldn’t pronounce certain words properly. So she called Estelle Stelly. Dressed in a pink T-shirt and wearing silver clips in her hair, she was a real sweet angel. Like any man, I’d be happy to have a son one day to carry on the family name, but I’d also be glad to have a little princess like her.
    Vicky took paints out of her small girly rucksack and asked, “Stelly, are you any good at drawing?”
    Estelle stroked her cheek and gave her one of my favorite smiles of hers—tender and bright. “I think I’ll manage just fine. Should I draw you a butterfly? Or perhaps you prefer a horse?” She gently tickled Vicky’s belly, which was showing from her pink T-shirt. The child’s laughter rang out around the garden.
    We were sat out on the verandah, enjoying the sun on the garden sofas.
    “You can draw on my face with these paints. They’re without harm.”