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
