View this author's other titles

LENGTH: Short Story
SENSUALITY: Sensual

Cover art (c) Eliza Black 2005
Download $2.50

Starr Struck: Adriana was left at the altar, and now her long lost fiancé begins appearing in visions all over the space station, Rendezvous. Will she walk away from her past or risk her heart again trying to solve the mystery of his disappearance?

Beneath a Million Stars: A diplomat makes an error in translation and gains a fiancé. Unravelling the situation causes her to lose her job and places her at the center of an intergalactic incident.

Rating: Contains sexual content.

STARR STRUCK

And

BENEATH A MILLION STARS

By

Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

© copyright by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime, April 2005

Cover Art by Eliza Black, © copyright April 2005

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

STARR STRUCK

Diamond points of light glowed through shimmering fog, turning the dance floor into a silver wonderland. Swirling through the glittering mist was surely as close to dancing among the stars as one could get. It conjured memories of the gentle sway of a man's body against hers. It seduced her mind with recollections of velvet kisses that escalated into heated passion, the way his body melded against hers as perfectly as it had on the dance floor....

With a frown, Adriana dragged her thoughts back to the present. The sparkling mist and the stars were no more than a convincing illusion courtesy of the hidden special effects generator imported for her best friend's wedding.

She stared into her reflection in the panoramic window, strains of a familiar melody receding into the background. Their song. Not exactly what she wanted to hear at Zelina's wedding. But the disk jockey couldn't possibly have known. A year later even the opening bars of that song could send tears cascading down her face.

Say for today that you are mine

Before the night comes between us.

For I can't say when next we'll meet--

The love of open space

Forever binds me.

But I'll see your face

In every passing star

As I look out upon eternity,

And I'll hear your voice

In the silence of the night

When loneliness reaches out

To haunt me.

They had danced their last dance here in the ballroom at Rendezvous Space Station, the night before Quillan went missing. Adriana sharply reined in her thoughts. She was the honor attendant at her best friend's wedding. And regardless of the ghosts in her recent past, it was her duty to make sure Zelina's special day was a success. A bridesmaid with heartache written across her face simply wouldn't do.

Forcing a smile, she stared through the huge window. The Rendezvous Ballroom had the best view in the galaxy. Terraced gardens stretched out below, aglow with synthetic candlelight. Couples were scattered throughout the gardens, taking advantage of the subdued lighting. A smile crept across her face. Weddings, no matter on which planet, brought out the romantic in everyone.

Every race in the galaxy was represented on the guest list, evidence of the success of the father of the bride as an intergalactic merchant. Opal lilies sprouted from every table not occupied with food. Sculptures of Antarean ice towered above the banquet table. A strolling minstrel wove his way through the garden, his Octarian harp leaving behind the scent of sky-blue-pink roses to augment his poignant melody.

In the midst of it all, Zelina shone like a star. Her shimmering dress reflected a waterfall of color as she moved. Her eyes positively glowed with the kind of joy only brides could radiate. When the groom gazed upon his new bride, his face positively lit up with delight.

The quiet gardens drew her attention back to the window. Within the dark synthi-glass an image began to form. Faint and ethereal, it took a moment to recognize the jewel-green eyes staring back at her from the glass. Those incredible eyes, framed by blond curls could only belong to Quillan Starr. With a cry, she whirled to face him.

But the floor behind her was empty.

Trembling, she turned very slowly back to the window. But the synthetic glass revealed only the panoramic view of the garden and the station. It couldn't have been Quillan, she told herself sternly. Quillan was long gone. Adriana stared suspiciously at the empty wine glass in her hand.

Must be the wine.

In trying to squelch the memories, she'd perhaps drunk more than she should. The wine and the tangle of emotions this day invoked were what had her conjuring images of Quillan Starr, the man who'd walked out of her life and taken her heart with him.

It was too easy to sink into the memory of his caress, the way his powerful arms felt so right around her. His daring nature brought out the courage in her. He'd encouraged her to become more than she was. Reflected in his adoring eyes, she had felt confident ... beautiful. Prompted by the phantom in the glass, her mind supplied the rest of the details: golden curls that tumbled over his shoulders in an unruly wave, full lips, far too sensual for the hard masculine lines of his face. As Adriana well remembered, he had a smile that could charm the devil.

He'd charmed even the cynical hyperdrive specialist. Charmed her, stolen her heart and then disappeared without a trace. Since then, she'd given up on arrogant pilots. Her new life went on just fine without a man, she'd decided. At least it was predictable. Predictably boring. Setting down her glass on the nearest table, she headed for the ladies room.

The relative quiet of the sleek white cubicle was soothing. The stark lighting and heavy makeup conspired to make her skin appear even paler than usual. Delicate pearls flickered in a cloud of crimson hair, held in place by spray she was sure could double as spaceship hull adhesive. She tucked a curl that had somehow escaped the stylist's attentions behind her ear and prepared herself to return to the party.

Familiar green eyes met hers. A startled cry burst from her lips.

Adriana sprang backward, colliding with the bathroom's cool metal wall. For several seconds she could do no more than stare in disbelief at the ghostly figure in the mirror.

It was Quillan all right. But instead of the adoring gaze she remembered so well, his face was tormented.

Haunted.

Golden curls fanned out from his face in a burnished mane. Even the hard planes of his cheeks were strained as if he fought against a powerful wind. Strong hands struck out before him like claws as he battled against the gale that threatened to toss him into oblivion. His mouth moved, shaping her name.

Then something else.

In rapt amazement, she managed to decipher the first syllable, "Tel--"

Like the afterimage of a bright flash, he faded slowly from view, leaving her to stare back into her own bewildered expression in the mirror.

"Quillan--" She reached for his disappearing image in the mirror, brushing her fingertips against the cold barrier of the glass.

What the stars am I doing?

Beneath her fingers the mirror offered only the reflection of her own hand.

Losing my mind, came the answer.

Could visiting Rendezvous Station for the first time since Starr left unhinge her completely?

Nonsense, the rational part of her brain supplied. I'm a hyperdrive specialist. I'm responsible for quality assurance on light speed engines in an entire sector of the galaxy. I speak ten languages. I've seen things that would make a grown man cringe. I didn't think there was anything in known space that could unhinge me....

The thought trailed off into frightening notions. Was she going crazy?

Certainly she missed Starr. She'd loved him with all her heart. Adriana felt the wound of his betrayal as keenly as if it were only yesterday. But in the months since his disappearance she'd thrown herself into her work, and she had prospered. She now oversaw shipyards on space stations from Rigel to Malvar and everywhere in between.

"If this is some kind of joke...." Her voice echoed off the metal walls of the empty cubicle. "It isn't funny," she finished quietly.

Feeling increasingly foolish with each passing second, she inspected the walls, even the space behind the sanitary facilities. But except for the ventilation shaft and the door, the metal cubicle was without seams. And the toilet didn't conceal anything that could be used as projection equipment.

Adriana leaned against the cool metal and shut her eyes. In her mind's eye she could still see Quillan calling to her, his lips tracing that last syllable, "Tel--"

"Tell me what?" she whispered. "That you're sorry?"