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He realized he couldn’t confront her with the story he’d slipped into his briefcase. He leaned back in the other guest chair, just watching her. She fidgeted and then a blush stole over her face as she twisted her fingers together. She took a deep breath and glanced away from him.
He’d wanted the meeting to finish so they could officially close the school. His last tie to the lie that was his legacy. But now … now he wanted to linger in town and in her office. Find out how deep those still waters ran in Ms. Grace Stephens.
“I think if we work together we might be able to convince Malcolm and the rest of the board of regents to give you and the school a second chance.”
Her eyes widened. “What? I thought you were …”
He smiled at her. “Some new information has come to light and I think that with a little attention both you and the school will benefit.”
“It’s not like you to be so mysterious, Mr. Bowen.”
“No, it’s not. We can discuss it over lunch, Grace.”
She bit her lower lip, tipping her head to one side to study him. “Let’s be honest here. Why are you really interested in helping me out?”
Her cheeks were flushed and a tendril of hair that had escaped the clip at the back of her neck curled temptingly against her cheek.
Damned if he wasn’t interested in getting to know this woman better. Now that he’d seen those tantalizing glimpses of the woman beneath the very prim headmistress persona.
“Adam? Are you paying attention to anything I’ve said?”
“Of course,” he said. “We can discuss everything over lunch.” He repeated the invitation, knowing it sounded more like an order.
He knew there were risks involved—Malcolm was hot on keeping everyone in their very proper place—but Adam wasn’t an employee of the school. Just on the advisory board.
He wanted to know more about Grace. And he’d always gotten what he wanted. Sometimes he’d paid a high price for achieving it, but in the end that price had always been worth it. This time, he could oversee getting the school back on track financially—making money was something he was good at. And he could get to know the real Grace Stephens. The one she hid from the world.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asked, crossing her arms under her breasts.
He was momentarily distracted by the view. “I just realized how pretty you are.”
She tucked the strand of hair back behind her ear, tilting her head to the side to study him. He wanted her to find whatever it was she was looking for in his face. Some kind of realness or sincerity. The kind of thing that he was never sure that he had.
“Mr. Bowen, are you feeling okay?”
“More than okay. I’ll have my chauffeur meet us at the gates of the school. We can discuss your plans for Tremmel-Bowen and other things.”
“What other things?” she asked, a trace of panic in her voice. “Do you want me to resign? I don’t think that would be in the best interests of the school. I’m a good administrator, Adam.”
“No, Grace. I don’t want you to resign.” He liked the way she said his name. But she only did when she was passionate about something. About the school. When she forgot herself, forgot to be nervous around him.
What would happen if she forgot herself more often?
“What do you want?”
“You.”
Two
He swept the papers off her desk and lifted her up onto the polished walnut surface. Slowly, exquisitely he unbuttoned her blouse. Ran his finger down the center of her body, over her sternum and between her ribs. Lingered on her belly button and then stopped at the waistband of her shirt. He slowly retraced the path over her torso. This time his fingers feathered under the demi-cups of her ice-blue bra. A shaft of desire pierced Grace.
Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace
Grace swallowed hard and reminded herself that he’d just been planning on firing her, so he certainly hadn’t meant anything by saying he wanted her. He was probably being clever. What would a sophisticated woman do?
She had no clue. At heart she was a small-town girl who lost herself in her books and imagination. And the attention of a man, the kind of attention that she thought she glimpsed in his eyes—awareness and attraction—that she had absolutely no idea how to handle.
“Grace?”
“Yes?”
“Did I scare you?”
Heck, yes, he’d scared her. But she was the headmistress of this school, a job she intended to keep. So she wasn’t going to allow him to see that slight bit of insecurity. “Of course not. You mentioned lunch …”
“That’s right, I did, but I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Adam.” She really wasn’t. She was afraid of that inner temptress that her father the preacher had always warned her about. The woman hidden beneath the baggy clothes with the hour glass figure and features that just naturally drew masculine attention. From the time she was thirteen she’d had to repent for this body and now that she had Adam’s attention, she wasn’t exactly sure what to do with it.
She preferred him to continue to be her secret crush.
“Grace …”
“What?” she asked, not even aware of how long she’d been standing there staring at him.
“Stop it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, nibbling on her bottom lip and hoping he wouldn’t call her on her lie.
“You’re thinking about this too hard. It’s just a meal.”
There was a tone in his voice that made her feel really ridiculous but she knew she hadn’t imagined what he’d said to her. “Then why are you looking at me like I’m on the menu?”
He laughed, a deep masculine sound. “Am I?” he asked, with his charming grin. The one she’d seen him bestow on other women but never on her.
She felt giddy for a second at having captured his attention just by being herself. Not because of her made-for-sin figure, but because of who she was.
Oh, my, she was in over her head. She needed to get this conversation back on to the topic of the school. She shook her head.
“Malcolm wants this place closed down for good, doesn’t he?” she asked, desperate to focus on the school and not Adam.
“Can you blame him?” Adam asked. He rose and moved closer to her, leaning one hip against her desk and crossing his legs at the ankles.
It was a totally masculine pose and should have put her at ease, but didn’t. There was something measured, calculated in the way he stood there, waiting for her reaction.
She sighed, wondering if he somehow blamed her for the downward spiral of the Vernon-Dawn-Malcolm mess. God knew that she blamed herself for not paying better attention to Dawn and Vernon, but to be honest they’d been two of her best teachers.
“No, I don’t. That kind of betrayal would cut so deep. I wish I’d been more observant and realized what was going on.”
“What would you have done?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Something. Anything to prevent the situation from getting out of hand.”
“You can’t control the actions of others,” he said. There was an emotion in his words that she struggled to define.
“I know. Just think how nice it would be if I could. We wouldn’t have to go to lunch to discuss the school, you’d just agree to keep it open.”
“Let’s go.”
She followed him out of her office, trying not to wonder what it would feel like to have his lips on her skin.
He put his hand on the small of her back again. She liked the feeling of his big hand on her. She stumbled a little and he steadied her with his other hand.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said, but inside she wasn’t okay. She’d been so careful for her entire life. Made sure to keep her private fantasies carefully tucked away from the reality of the life she carved out for herself.
For the first time she understood that the lines between them were blurry. That they could be crossed. And she wasn’t prepared to deal with that.
When would she be? She’d spent the twenty years since she’d turned thirteen running from her body and the way men reacted to it. When was she going to stop running?
The bell rang while they were in the hallway and she drew Adam to a stop. She wanted him to see the camaraderie between the students. She wanted him to have a glimpse of what he’d be taking from the kids if he didn’t vote to let her try to save the school. She wanted him to see that there was something worth saving here.
And nothing could serve as a stronger reminder of what she stood to lose if she let herself contemplate stepping out of the shadows she’d carefully built around herself.
Adam looked down at her as if he wasn’t sure what to do with her, and she understood that. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She only knew that the life she’d been living wasn’t acceptable anymore. It was going to change, because of the situation at the school and because of this man. And if he was interested in her, the way he seemed to be, then she wasn’t going to retreat and let this moment pass her by.
Adam had his driver take them to a local chain restaurant and soon was seated across from Grace in a booth.
Something had changed in her demeanor since they’d left her office, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. She was starting to relax around him. She still had a barrier in place around her, a formality that she didn’t drop, but he could tell she was trying to be friendlier.
“What should I do differently to win over the board members?” she asked after taking a delicate sip of her water.
“Nothing. Most of them are tired of the problems that the school has,” he said bluntly.
“Well that was honest.” She entwined her long fingers together on the table. He wanted to reach out and touch her, rub his thumb over her knuckles. But he didn’t.
“I’m not going to get a chance if Malcolm has anything to say about it.”
“You’re right about that. But I can override the board’s decision or possibly table the formal vote until the end of the school year.
“Your plan has a lot of merit on its own. The board of regents will only be swayed by action and results. I’ll be happy to help you implement the changes personally. I think that will be enough to convince the board to give you some extra time.”
She flushed as she stared at him. He wanted to know more about what made her tick. Why hadn’t he paid attention to Grace before now? “You’d do that?”
She made him feel like a better man than he really was. Maybe it was the knowledge that he was only sitting across from her because she’d aroused his interest with her fictional story about being his mistress. There was something in her eyes that made him feel … well, not empty the way he usually did.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
“I’d heard that about you,” she said. “That you don’t tolerate lies.”
“That’s right. I don’t,” he said, not willing to talk about why. “What else have you heard?”
Not all of the stories that circulated about him were nice. In business, he was ruthless.
“That’s all,” she said, smiling at him.
He caught his breath as her entire visage changed. Grace Stephens was a stunning beauty when she smiled. A goodness shone through in that smile.
“What have you heard about me?” she asked, her voice suddenly shy.
Not much really. Commendations from parents and students prior to the incident but nothing personal about her. “I’ve heard very little about the woman behind the headmistress role, but I’d say that you are a woman of hidden depths and passions and that one day some lucky man is going to unlock those secrets.”
She tipped her head to the side. “I’m getting a glimpse of that charm of yours.”
He was a bit offended that she thought so little of his compliment. “I’m not flirting with you, Grace. Don’t belittle the both of us by asking for honesty and then reacting as if it were a lie.”
She flushed. “I’m sorry. Anything too close to the truth unsettles me.”
“Why?”
She shrugged and looked away from him.
“Look at me, Grace.”
She lifted her head, her gaze meeting his squarely. A tendril of her hair had escaped the barrette she’d used to clip it at the back of her neck.
“Why?” he asked again.
“Because I’m afraid of that kind of truth, Adam. I’m not sure how to act around you. You’ve never looked at me this way before.”
“I’m looking now,” he said.
“Yes, you are, and I’m not sure why.”
He knew that he should come clean and tell her he’d found her erotic story, but his gut said she’d shut him out and he’d never see this Grace Stephens again. Instead he captured her hand, tracing his finger over her fragile wrist and the veins running under her pale skin.
“Does there have to be a reason?”
“I guess not. But I’m sure there is one.”
“You’re passionate about your students and your school, Grace. There’s something different about you when you’re defending them, fighting for them.”
She licked her lips and he tracked the movement, realizing she didn’t wear lipstick. Her mouth was lush, her top lip bow-shaped and the lower one fuller. He wanted to draw her across the table and taste her. To see how she’d react to a kiss. How long would it take to shatter her composure?
“I just know how hard it can be to lose your school at that age. To have to move to a new place.”
“Personal experience?”
