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Blurb
A Black, billionaire, widower romance novel.
Andrew Stanfield is a widower and an alcoholic.
Ten years ago he lost his wife and unborn child in a car accident.
He was driving, and hasn’t been able to handle the guilt since.
But after hitting rock bottom and finally realizing he needs help, he winds up on Dr. Seraphina Arnold’s couch.
Seraphina is a therapist, and Andrew soon finds his growing attraction to her is a welcome distraction to his problems.
She feels the same.
However, a doctor / patient relationship is forbidden, and if found out Seraphina could lose the career she’s worked so hard to build.
Will the two find a way to be together and have the love they both need and deserve?
Or will outside influences mean they’ll remain alone with their demons?
Find out in this emotional yet steamy African American romance by Shamika Louis.
Chapter 1
They didn’t make sense; not to Andrew and certainly not to anyone they knew. Andrew’s friends had balked when they’d been introduced to Audrey and Audrey’s friends had tossed Andrew their car keys with strict instructions to park it in the shade.
Andrew was a working man, born and raised to be a good ol’ country, denim clad, kick your ass six ways to Sunday in a bar fight Texas boy. His parents died when he was twelve, leaving him with a ranch and debt up to his ears. The bank foreclosed on the ranch and Andrew was sent to a distant relative in Louisiana.
After the bastard got handsy, Andrew took off back to Texas. He started working at fifteen, graduated high school at seventeen and started working at John Deere not even a year later as he pursued an associate degree in mechanical engineering. Then at twenty four, Andrew had owned an auto repair shop with partnerships in two more like it across Texas and another in South Dakota. He wasn’t rich, not by anyone’s standards -especially Audrey’s-but he was comfortable.
Audrey on the other hand was a princess all the way down to her high heeled, Swarovski encrusted Manolo Blahnik shod feet. The only child of a media magnate, Audrey had never heard the word no in all of her twenty years. The Fitzgerald’s literally gave her everything she could ask for. She was home schooled by a group of three award winning professionals; a famous mathematician, a Pulitzer prize winning writer and renowned scholar who traveled with her wherever her parents saw fit to go. Audrey received her high school equivalency at sixteen years old, attended Colombia for two years, promptly decided she was bored and flew across the ocean to Paris, France which she called home.
Then on a whim, Audrey decided to be a model. Her mother, a retired minor actress who wasn’t the least bit bitter about her failed career in theory, fully supported that dream. She hired an agent for her eighteen year old and soon her face was internationally known.
The night Andrew and Audrey met was strangely akin to a meeting set up by fate. Andrew had liked to joke that there was some powerful voodoo goin’ on to bring them together and Audrey had liked to roll her eyes and say ‘no, it was actually thanks to the Italians’, without whom her Maserati wouldn’t have been possible.
Anyway, the quarter of a million dollar ‘clunker’, as Audrey called it, broke down halfway to a photo shoot and Andrew had been called down as the only tow service in town much to the disgust of the producer.
It wasn’t love at first sight, far from it, but damn, Andrew had never felt lust slam quite so hard through him as it did when Audrey had climbed out of the car, those damn long legs of hers making all sorts of sinful images manifest in his mind. The rest of Audrey sure as hell hadn’t been disappointing either. Naomi Campbell would be so lucky to look that good. Andrew greatly appreciated the long chestnut hair whether or not it was real, and the wide, kissable lips. His knees had even gone a bit weak.
Okay, so maybe it was love at first sight but, Audrey ruined it by opening her mouth. As pretty as she was, the girl was twice as spoiled, and Andrew had little patience for her demands.
“Ugh, finally!” The gorgeous girl pressed her lips into a thin line and Andrew was propelled back to reality. “It took you long enough! I also need a cup of lukewarm water! I’m losing my voice. And God help you if there isn’t a fresh lemon slice in there.”
Andrew cleared his throat, looked around at the entourage standing silently next to the petulant child. No one showed any reaction. The oldest man, the one who was most obviously not part of this fashion shoot or what the fuck ever, even smiled.
“Listen, kid. I‘m from the towing company-” Andrew didn’t even get another word out as the tirade continued.
“I am not a child! My name was Audrey Fitzgerald and I demand water!”
“You’ve only been stuck for twenty minutes, I doubt it’s life or death.” Andrew snickered, “Why don’t you take the time to tan or something.”
“As if.” Audrey glared, tossing back her glossy hair. “If I don’t have a glass of water, three ice cubes and a slice of lime, with a dash of Splenda in the next two minutes: I. Will. Die.”
“Don’t tempt me.” Andrew walked right past her to the car, let out a low whistle as he saw the name and make. “Well, look at that, I may just be dealing with a true princess.”
“You’re a jerk!” Audrey screeched some more, all but stomping her foot on the ground.
“And you’re in for a wait,” Andrew popped the hood, “Hey Kev?”
“Yeah boss?”
“Get the princess some water out of the cooler.”
Andrew wasn’t too surprised when a bottle flew past his head, denting the car a moment later.
Smiling with the memory, Andrew couldn’t help but laugh internally then. Love sure was a funny thing; not even two days later and he’d had the brat up against his shop wall, expensive shorts shoved down to her ankles as he gave her the ride of her life. Audrey had clung to him like her life depended on it, gasping these sweet, broken little moans as Andrew thrust into her deep and hard.
Three days later and Audrey Fitzgerald had ditched town in a flurry of servants and flash, and everyone in Lemon Grove had breathed a little easier. One week later and Andrew spotted her face on the cover of Vogue.
After Audrey left the first time, Andrew had fully expected not to see her again. The sex had been great, phenomenal, but that’s all it had been; sex. When they hadn’t been going at it like animals in heat, they’d been at each other’s throats. Audrey got under his skin with her snotty comments and derisive looks, she wound Andrew up like no one ever had or could.
When Andrew had opened the door to his modest two bedroom to find Audrey Fitzgerald on his door step, he’d surprised everyone, including himself by grabbing her up in a hungry kiss. That time Audrey had stayed for a little over a week. When Andrew’s AC had quit, she’d been gone.
The next time Audrey arrived with a butler-who Andrew quickly sent on his way- four suitcases and two cars. She stayed for three weeks; at some point during her comings and goings, Andrew began to notice that the brat was slowly moving in.
“What the hell is this?”
“Hm?” Audrey had looked completely unconcerned at his bluster, didn’t even look away from Project Runway. She was curled up on the bed wearing Andrew’s old tee shirt and tiny black silk shorts while brushing her hair methodically.
“Damn it, where’s my razor?”
“Darling,” Audrey looked behind her, finally making eye contact. “This razor is much better; plus the dispenser heats the foam and-”
“I want my razor, Audrey.” Andrew gritted his teeth. It wasn’t even the first thing to come up missing and replaced. This fancy straight razor had been accompanied by a juicer, an espresso machine, Italian loafers, silk sheets, oriental rugs, silver china and many more things. Okay, Andrew had to admit the damn espresso machine was amazing and the thick rugs made his toes curl but the hundreds of other things-all replaced or shoved in the garage without his permission- got him riled.
“But,” light brown eyes went round and hurt. “You need a closer shave, your beard gives me a rash.”
“You really are a princess huh?”
“No,” Audrey crossed her arms indignantly. “And stop class shaming me.”
“So you’ve grown claws?” Andrew came closer, grabbed Audrey by the ankle and yanked her down when she squeaked and tried to move away. “Gonna scratch?”