frowned, thinking of what she had to accomplish. The short time frame she had to accomplish it made her want to scream.
Someone brushed her fingers aside and she glanced over her shoulder to see Adam standing there.
He massaged her shoulders and the tension of the day started to recede. Not totally of course. “Malcolm mentioned he was giving you until the end of the semester to prove the school should be left open.”
“Yes, he agreed to that. Thank you, Adam. For arranging all those meetings and for standing behind me. I don’t think the board would have given me a chance without that.”
She tried to keep her mind on the school. It was the most important thing in her life. But a part of her stared up at Adam and wondered if he’d somehow found the seeds to shut down her school anyway. If he was toying with her because … why? From what she’d seen of him, he wasn’t a cruel man.
“No problem. Everyone agrees that if anyone can turn the school around it’s you,” he said.
“Why do they believe that?” she asked, hating the weakness that question revealed. But tonight, she was a little overwhelmed. Maybe she’d bitten off more than she could chew. Maybe she should have taken the out the board had given her. She could have walked away from the school with a nice recommendation and gotten another job.
“Because you have this inner strength that makes everyone around you realize that you won’t settle for anything other than excellence.”
She wished she felt that what he’d said was true. But inside she feared she was a fraud. That the fear of having to look for another job, the fear of having to go to some new place and try to fit in had in large part motivated her to save Tremmel-Bowen.
“I’m not that woman,” she said.
“Yes, you are,” Adam said, using his hands on her shoulders to turn her around and draw her to her feet.
“I don’t feel like it.”
“You will tomorrow.”
“What’s going to change between now and then?”
“I’m going to make you dinner and convince you of the faith I have in you.”
“We can’t. I thought about it this afternoon, you know we can’t have dinner together.”
“We both have to eat,” he said.
She shook her head. If she wanted to save the school, she needed to stay focused on the school and not let Adam distract her. “Our being seen together is too risky. I don’t want to chance it.”
“Dinner isn’t a torrid affair.”
“I know that.”
“How about if I cook for you?”
“You can cook?”
He quirked one eyebrow at her and gave her a half smile that she felt all the way to her toes. “Yes, ma’am.”
She gave her unspoken consent by following him out the door. Already she felt lighter, not as tired, just at the thought of spending more time with him. Adam really was a one-of-a-kind guy. The kind of man worthy of a woman who wasn’t always pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
Her secrets felt like a heavy burden. And Adam might actually be privy to one that she wanted to keep very private. Going to dinner at his house would give her an opportunity to fish around and see if he’d found “Adam’s Mistress” on her desk.
Four
She knew she should tell him to leave, that her job was at stake, but she couldn’t give up the chance to be with him. To know him intimately. She caressed his chest, lingering over the well-developed pectorals.
His muscle jumped under her touch. She scraped her nail down the center line of his body. Following the fine dusting of hair that narrowed and disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
“Don’t go,” she said softly.
Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace
Adam enjoyed cooking because so many people expected him not to know how to do it. Like he was nothing more than a stereotype instead of a real person. He’d been on his own for the better part of the last fifteen years and survival demanded that he at least make an effort to learn how to feed himself.
He’d employed his parents’ staff for the first five years after his parents’ death, but when he learned the truth of his family’s secret he felt like a fraud and couldn’t in good faith continue to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. One of the hardest things he’d had to do was let go of the staff. But if Molly and Hubert Johnson were working for him he wasn’t going to learn to stand on his own, so he’d asked them both what they wanted to do. Molly had always longed to open a small craft store in her hometown and Adam had helped her do that. Hubert had been happy to move back home with his wife and work in the shop.
Slowly Adam had started learning what he needed to do to carve a life for himself. A life that he was in control of.
Grace wasn’t one of those women who made false assumptions about him. She’d taken one look at the state of the art kitchen and understood that he would know his way around a good pot roast.
“I guess you really can cook,” she said, a wry grin lighting her face.
“Yes.”
“Most guys consider dinner throwing something on the grill or heating up rice in the microwave.”
He wanted to groan. “A man offered to cook for you and then made microwave rice?”
She laughed but the tension didn’t really ease from her face. She was still nervous and tense. Still unsure of something.
Him, he suspected. The situation that he was engineering to hopefully get her comfortable enough that she’d share the secrets hidden behind those shadowed eyes.
“No. My dad used to make rice for us for dinner whenever there was nothing else to eat.”
“Where was your mom?”
She fidgeted with the stem of her wineglass and he realized he’d probed past the bounds of what was polite conversation and gone straight into that forbidden territory marked personal. A place that it was obvious she wasn’t ready to go.
“This is a really nice house. I can’t believe how big all the houses are in this area.”
Actually, the house was rather modest for the neighborhood, only 4,000 square feet. Certainly small compared to other properties he had around the world. But he’d liked the soaring windows and the large deck outside was a terrific place to work on the laptop on nice days. Well, it would be if he were ever here long enough to enjoy it.
Since the Johnsons had gone, he had a cleaning service come in periodically to check on things and dust. He’d had them stock the kitchen before he’d arrived. He might have to have them in more often if he truly was going to stay in
