The Mistresses: Make-Believe Mistress. Katherine Garbera
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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?”
“Yes.”
“I had the feeling that you were practically rooted to Texas.”
“I am. I’ve always wanted to find a place where I fit in and put down roots and I found that at Tremmel-Bowen.”
“You didn’t grow up in Plano?” he asked, realizing how little he knew about her. It made him feel a little ashamed that they’d known each other for more than three years and he’d never paid any attention to her before this moment.
“No. I didn’t.”
There was a quiet note in her voice that made him realize there was more to her past than she’d probably want to tell him. “Where’d you grow up?”
“West Texas.”
“What city?”
“Why does this matter? I’d rather discuss the school—”
“I give you my word that I’ll step in and delay the vote. There’s nothing left to discuss about the prep school. I’d rather talk about you,” he said.
“Is that the only reason you’re willing to help me convince the board to keep the school open? A personal interest in me?”
He was a smart man and knew there wasn’t a good answer to this question. But he realized he’d pushed too hard and too personally for her. “No, of course not.”
Grace didn’t want to talk about herself. Men rarely wanted to know about her. She had no idea what she’d say. She stunk at making small talk and if they weren’t going to talk about the school then she was going to have to be sparkling or interesting and, frankly, she didn’t think she had that in her.
Luckily their food arrived and she gave it more attention than it deserved. She closed her eyes and offered a brief prayer of thanks for the food. Some of the preacher’s teachings she’d never been able to shed.
Okay, none of his teachings, but she didn’t like to dwell on the fact that her father was still controlling her behavior years after she’d left him behind.
She tried not to be nervous as their lunch progressed and Adam coaxed the conversation through a lot of different topics. She was surprised by how much he revealed about himself. He didn’t seem to have the barriers she always kept in place between herself and everyone else.
She felt a twinge of embarrassment at how professionally he was now behaving toward her. Had she completely misread his interest earlier?
She tucked a strand of hair back toward her clip while the waitress cleared their plates and Adam reached over to capture her hand in his.
“Isn’t this cozy?” Sue-Ellen Hanshaw asked as she approached their table.
Grace jerked her hand from Adam’s and tried to remind herself that they weren’t doing anything untoward. “Adam was giving me some input into the presentation I made earlier.”
“I’m sure he was.”
“Can we help you with something?” Adam asked.
“I hope you can help get our school back on track,” she said. “My son has a year and half left at Tremmel-Bowen and I’d hate to have to pull him out before he can graduate.”
“We