To Star, With Love

By Nailah

For those of you who loved the sassy Miranda Knight in Someone to Watch Over Me, here's a chance to meet Miranda as a little girl....

When Star McKenzie meets Randall Knight it's attraction at first sight.

But she's his daughter's teacher and, apparently, he's recovering still from the tragic death of his wife.

In this amusing and moving tale of love lost and found, Randall's children give Star and Randall the greatest gift of all.

Praise for To Star, With Love:
"I've read many,many Romances but this book outshines them because it's about my people, Caribbean people."

"I loved this book because I finally got to read about Bajans falling in love. I can't wait for the next book"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nailah
• Release date: Aug 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476345512

Nailah

Nailah is a Barbadian/British writer. A teacher by day, she has been published in numerous anthologies and is the author of 13 novellas. These include titles from her Romance Series – Caribbean Passion. One of these short novels, Pick of the Crop, was published by Heinemann Publishing (Oxford) in 2004. Her greatest opus thus far is her daughter.

Book preview

To Star, With Love

by

Nailah

Copyright 2012 Charmaine A Gill

Cover illustration & design by Allan Lowe

Smashwords Edition

Discover other titles by Nailah at: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/nailah

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

CONNECT WITH THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER ONE

Star McKenzie stared through the large picture window of the staff room at The Primary Institute of Education, affectionately known by its teachers, students and alumni as PIE.

The window overlooked the main entrance to the school and afforded Star an easy view of students - some eager, some not, all dressed in their crisply coloured, obviously new uniforms and carrying new lunch boxes and school bags - entering the school’s compound with their parents.

Star had always had mixed feelings about the first day of any new school year.

At the age of three, she’d experienced the fear and excited wonder of her own first day in kindergarten. Today, twenty years later, she felt the familiar strains of those emotions playing in her chest.

This was Star’s first day at PIE too. She’d recently returned to Barbados from England where she’d studied Special Education for four years. In the three months since her return, she’d managed to land a job, joining six other carefully chosen teachers, at the small but prestigious primary school nestled in the rural setting of the parish of St. Lucy. She would teach the infants class.

The teaching methods at PIE were somewhat experimental. Teachers were encouraged to use a modified Montessori Method which meant individual attention to each student. With each class having an average student-teacher ratio of ten to one, this was not difficult to achieve. The idea of small classes appealed to Star; heightened her anticipation of the soon-to-be-lived experience.

As she watched the arriving students, she found it easy to tell the new students from the vets.

They look like I feel right now. A little nervous, a lot excited by this new experience, she thought.

One group in particular caught Star’s attention as they alighted from a shiny, gold-coloured Grand Vitara jeep. The man was tall, well built and casually but well dressed. She found him incredibly handsome and his face was more than vaguely familiar. He took the hands of two children - a boy and a girl- their own good-looking faces, so much like his, were testimony to his parentage of them.

She’ll be in my class, Star thought, looking at the little girl who could have been no more than five years of age. I wonder where their mother is. She couldn’t recall meeting the family during PIE’s student orientation the week before. Late registrants, she figured.

She turned her attention back to the man who accompanied the two children across the school’s car park and towards the building. He stopped to hoist the little girl into his arms while resting the other arm comfortably across his son’s shoulders.

You’re so good-looking you hurt my eyes, Star thought, running a hand over her hair, smoothing imagined stray strands into place. Her long, brown, curly mane, its natural bronze highlights catching rays of sunlight that invaded the staff room, was gathered and pulled back into a loose school marm’s chignon at the back of her head. The style emphasised Star’s fine facial features, setting off her high cheekbones and her large, brown, bespectacled eyes. Although she preferred to wear her hair open, Star found school life with five- to six-year-olds much easier when she kept her hair off her face. Besides, she knew from experience that her luxurious tresses proved distracting to her students - girls and boys.

Like the pupils she was about to meet, Star was dressed in a new outfit. She wore a dark green, sleeveless, jacket-like shirt which she’d picked up in a pre-summer sale at Harrods’s just before she’d left England. It perfectly complemented the yellow, green and black batiked calf-length skirt she wore. Her favourite matching coconut shell earrings, bangles and necklace, along with the brown, soft leather, sensibly heeled shoes she wore, completed the ensemble.

Hi, there.

Star, startled out of her contemplation of the young father and his children, jumped and turned. She was greeted again by the smiling face of Donna Duguid, the Junior One teacher. The women had met the day before during a staff meeting at the school.

Hi, yourself, Star returned the salutation.

You’re looking very special! That’s a lovely outfit, Star, Donna exclaimed, taking in the sight of the new teacher, not missing the way the different shades of green complemented Star’s caramel brown skin.

Who are you watching?

Nobody. Everybody.

Donna laughed. Well make up your mind.

Star laughed too. Actually, it’s both. But I was watching and wondering about this family in particular. She turned back to the large window and indicated the group she meant.

Oh! Don’t you know him? Huh! He does look naked without his tie, doesn’t he?

I don’t recognise him. Should I?

"Don’t you watch the news every night? That’s Randall Knight. The Randall Knight. The news presenter. He’s the one voted by most women in Barbados to be this island’s sexiest man. After my Bill, of course."

Of course! Star laughed and turned back to the window. The island’s sexiest man, huh? Well I can see why.

The note of interest in Star’s voice prompted Donna to warn her friend. Stay away from him, Star. He’s bad news. Maybe you haven’t been back long enough to know but this island is small and word gets around. Mr. Randall Knight has a chip on his shoulder when it comes to dealing with women.

What do you mean? As she spoke, Star turned to look at her friend who was busy unpacking her bag, carefully arranging books and pens on her desk.

"Well, my sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s friend who’s a cameraman on the Barbados Television Network news says Knight hasn’t got over his wife’s death. She died about two or three years ago in a car accident. Word is, they were arguing when she left the house. She was running away from him, jumped