Someone To Watch Over Me

By Nailah

Miranda Knight (the little girl featured in To Star, With Love; Caribbean Passion #1) is all grown up.

After having second thoughts about her impending marriage to successful accountant, Ian Greene, Miranda meets Kamau and the handsome Rastaman literally knocks her off her feet, saving her life.

Before they know it, they're in love. However,their passion is marred by anonymous, threatening phone calls. Then Miranda goes missing. Will Kamau find her in time to save her life a second time? And what is Kamau hiding? And who is the mysterious woman who follows Miranda even in her dreams?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nailah
• Release date: Aug 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465863164

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

PRAISE FOR SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME

I liked Someone to Watch Over Me even more than To Star, With Love. I can tell your stories are going to get better and better. I can't wait for your next book.

Vicki Springfield, avid Romance reader

I love the fact that this book is set in Barbados. You're bringing the Romance home to the Caribbean. I love Romances, and from now on I'll be collecting your books too.

Undine Peters, avid Romance reader

Someone To Watch Over Me

Nailah

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Charmaine A Gill

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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

A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

CONNECT WITH THE AUTHOR

SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME

CHAPTER ONE

Naturally, you won’t work after we’re married.

What?

The words spoken by her fiancé Ian Greene were the first thing Miranda Knight had heard from him all night.

This despite the fact that they’d been sharing an intimate table for two at the swanky restaurant, Stefan’s, for more than an hour. During which time he’d talked so much she hardly had a chance to utter a word.

What? Miranda exclaimed again.

Well, darling, there’ll be no need. My income is more than enough to meet our needs. And besides, it’s time for you to settle down and forget these pipe dreams about making a living as a singer in Barbados.

In that moment, Miranda understood the meaning of the term seeing red. To her, the room had taken on a fiery glow that had nothing to do with the romantic ambience created by the glow of the candles in the chandeliers hanging over each table.

How could he call three fast-selling CDs and months of performing in the Caribbean as well as North and South America a pipe dream? Miranda wondered indignantly.

Speechless with anger, she blinked rapidly as she felt her head swell as Bajans say. She pushed her chair away from the table abruptly.

Mirry? What’s wrong? Ian was genuinely concerned. Are you…?

I’m fine. I just need to visit the ladies’. Urgently. Anything to get away from you and this nauseating conversation, she thought as she rose and walked away without another word.

Once in the ladies’ room, Miranda headed for the row of basins.

I am so bored, she muttered, splashing water on her face.

She straightened and stared into the long mirror above the countertop and basins as she dried her face on the pink-laced handkerchief she drew from her handbag.

And this is just one night. Imagine what marriage will be like. A life time of dinners like this.

She suppressed a groan at the thought as she heard a cough from one of the cubicles.

Minutes later, a tall, slim, ebony-skinned young woman stepped from the stall and to the sink next to Miranda’s to wash her hands. She was so thin and the little black dress she wore hugged her body so tightly that her ribs and hipbones were clearly defined through the stretchy material.

Don’t worry, love. It’s probably just one of those nights. They can do that to you sometimes, men. They can bore you to tears going and coming, but it’s worth it if they’re treating you right. Right?

She flashed a hand in front of Miranda’s face, the ring-laden fingers testimony to the fact that her man was treating her right.

And bringing you to fancy places to eat, right? Miss Little Black Dress continued.

Miranda muttered Uh huh, a little embarrassed about being overheard, not wanting to engage the young woman in deeper conversation by letting her know that she, Miranda Knight, was an independent woman and didn’t need a man to treat her nicely or treat her to fancy meals since she could afford to do these things for herself. Although, she admitted to herself, I like to be treated nicely by a nice man, the right nice man. But is that Ian?

And anyhow, Miss LBD continued, oblivious to Miranda’s reverie, I took a good look at your man. He’s fine. And you two look good together. He looks like he’s loaded. If I was you, I’d hang onto that one.

I’m sure you would. Maybe we should trade places, Miranda thought acidly.

She said nothing, however, but smiled at her adviser as if to thank her.

Hang in there, love, the young woman said as she strode out of the room, tugging at the tight black mini, which rode up her legs and bottom, as she walked.

Miranda watched as the door swung shut behind the woman, then turned back to