Make-Believe Mistress
Make-Believe Mistress
Katherine Garbera
School headmistress Grace Stephens never thought her private fantasies could become public.But millionaire businessman Adam Bowen was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted. And he wanted Grace to act out every word of the previously secret, suddenly missing steamy love story she'd written all about them.Adam held her future–and every part of her body–in his hands. Leaving Grace no choice but to go from his make-believe mistress to his very real one.
Make-Believe Mistress
Katherine Garbera
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Since I’m now officially an Evelette,
I’d like to say thanks to Janet, Roz, Denise and Lenora for welcoming me to the gang. And special thanks to the leader of the Evelette pack…Eve Gaddy!!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Coming Next Month
One
Adam walked into her office like he owned the place, closing the door behind him and locking it. He brushed his hand along the side of her cheek and tunneled his fingers into her hair, tipping her head back. She shook from the brief contact and bit her lip to keep from asking for more.
Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace
Grace Stephens found it hard to think when Adam Bowen turned that intense blue-green stare on her. Her pulse beat loudly in the back of her head. Even though she’d rehearsed what she’d say at this meeting a hundred times, in the presence of her secret crush, she couldn’t talk.
“Ms. Stephens, I asked you what action you think this board should take,” he said.
His voice was deep and slightly gravelly. But it fit him. He was a big man, almost six-foot-two, muscular and totally ripped. She’d never seen him without a healthy tan. However, usually he just glanced over her and moved on. She hadn’t anticipated what effect being the center of his attention would have on her.
“Mr. Bowen,” she said, sorting through her notes on the table. As soon as she looked away from Adam her concentration returned. She was the headmistress of Tremmel-Bowen Preparatory, a very prestigious school in Plano, Texas, she reminded herself. It was an institution that had long been the breeding ground of powerful world politicians and future captains of industry.
Though lately they’d been in the news more for their scandals.
Get it together, girl.
She cleared her throat and pushed to her feet, wishing her five-foot-two frame was just a little bit taller. She walked to the front of the boardroom where her assistant, Bruce, had set up her laptop and a projector. The vice principal, Jose Martinez, rubbed the back of his neck as she fumbled with her presentation. It wasn’t just her job on the line, but the jobs of all her staff. Bruce, Jose and seventy-five teachers and support staff.
“I’m sorry for the delay. I was gathering my thoughts to talk to you and the rest of the board of regents.”
She was incredibly nervous about this meeting. The thought of disgrace and unemployment were enough to make her sweat. She refused to go back to the life she’d struggled so hard to escape. The idea was enough to draw her attention back to the matter at hand.
“Tremmel-Bowen has long been the place where diplomats and world leaders send their children for polishing and training to become future world leaders.”
“In recent years, that reputation has suffered,” Sue-Ellen Hanshaw said. The head of the PTA was a former beauty pageant queen and always made Grace feel like a country mouse. Sue-Ellen’s makeup was flawless, her hair salon perfect and her body, of course, in the best shape money could buy.
“I’m aware of that. We’ve made a lot of changes this year to get the school back on track. But of course, we’ve had this one minor setback.”
“I wouldn’t call it minor,” Malcolm O’Shea said. As the most active regent on the board, Malcolm had the power to influence the others, to keep the school open.
Of course he wouldn’t. It had been his wife—Dawn—whose photo, in a torrid embrace with another teacher, had been splashed across the Internet. Scuttlebutt said that Malcolm and Dawn were currently in mediation preparing for their divorce.
But Adam was still staring at her and his eyes held more than their usual hint of boredom. They held anger, too. She couldn’t blame him. After all, she was ultimately responsible for two of her teachers getting caught having sex by her students. She might have been able to manage the students if a picture of the incident hadn’t been made public on the school’s Web site. Stupid cell-phone cameras.
She felt flames of embarrassment sweep up her neck. Dawn had tried to explain that she’d gotten caught up in the moment and forgotten where she was, but Grace hadn’t bought it. She’d kissed her share of guys—okay, maybe fewer than her share—and not once had she forgotten where she was.
Adam cleared his throat and Grace swallowed hard. His eyes held determination; she knew he and the other regents were here to deliver bad news.
The prep school that bore his name, which at one time enjoyed a reputation for being one of the most prestigious in the world, was now mired in scandal and debt. Not at all what his great-grandfather and Angus Tremmel had envisioned when the school was founded more than one hundred years ago. And as headmistress she was ultimately the one to blame. But she had a plan—a plan that had absolutely nothing to do with staring into Adam’s deep-blue eyes.
She took a breath and moved to the front of the room. “I want to thank you all for agreeing to this meeting today. I understand your position on closing the school. However, I think once you see the plan that we have ready to implement, you’ll give us a second chance.”
She skimmed her gaze over the regents, parents and student council, who were also in attendance, keeping a determined and confident smile fixed to her face. Most of them didn’t exactly looked inspired by her speech. And Malcolm didn’t look close to even listening to any kind of save-the-school plan.
“We’ve terminated the contracts of Dawn O’Shea and Vernon Balder. The fraternization policy at the school is very clear. They both understood the reasons for their dismissal. I’ve made it clear to the staff that there are no exceptions to any of our rules.”
“That’s a good course of action, but it’s not enough to change the board’s decision, Ms. Stephens,” Malcolm said.
Grace was disappointed by his comment but had expected nothing less. Malcolm had to have been humiliated when the pictures of Dawn were published first on the Internet and then in the local paper. He was out for blood.
“What Malcolm means is that we’re also concerned with the school’s financial state. As you know, the incident caused many families to withdraw their students and we had to refund tuition, which affected the operating budget for the remainder of the school year,” Adam said.
Grace took a deep breath. It was January and the start of the second semester—enrollment had dropped by half. Parents didn’t want their future leaders touched by any kind of scandal. She was painfully aware that the school was barely going to cover operating expenses until the school year ended in May.
This was the first conversation she’d had with Adam that had involved more than one- or two-word answers. “I know that. I’ve been working with our school accountant and I think we have a plan that will keep us under budget until the end of the year.”
“Even if we keep the school open until the end of the semester, we’ll be back here discussing the same situation in the fall.”
Grace felt her heart drop. Though the board had agreed to this meeting, they’d already made up their minds and there seemed to be nothing she could say to change them. But giving up without a fight wasn’t her style.
“I don’t agree with that point of view, Mr. Bowen,” she said. “Our remaining student body wants to return next year and, together with the student council, we’ve started an aggressive recruiting campaign.”
She’d spent her entire life in pursuit of this one goal—living a proper life and working at this school. She wanted the conservative reputation she now had. She’d wanted to be anything other than the sinful daughter of the Preacher Reverend Stephens.
She forced that to the back of her mind. She definitely wasn’t going to dwell on the terribly clichéd fact that her mother had run off with a traveling salesman. Jenny Stephens had left long before Grace had been old enough to ask to go with her, and the reverend had made sure Jenny had little time with Grace thereafter. Although he’d taken her to her mother’s funeral after Jenny’s death from an aneurysm.
She rubbed the back of her neck and tried to concentrate, but the smell of Adam’s cologne distracted her. It was earthy, woodsy, a scent that titillated her senses.
“I’d like the chance to show you our entire presentation before the board votes,” she said.
“That’s why we’re here, Ms. Stephens.”
Adam’s BlackBerry twittered and he pulled the unit closer to him. His hands were large, his fingers long and his nails nicer looking than hers, which were chewed to the quick.
“Excuse me,” Adam said. “I need to see Ms. Stephens outside for a minute.”
“Of course, that will give Bruce and me time to set up the presentation for our fiscal reconstruction plan. Will fifteen minutes be enough?” Jose asked.
“Perfect,” Adam said.
He gestured for her to lead the way. She was conscious of him walking close behind her until they were outside the boardroom and in the relative privacy of the hallway in the administrative building. He had his hand on the small of her back. She felt the heat of his touch through the layers of her clothing.
She hoped that none of what she’d thought earlier showed on her face. She tried to keep her breathing even and told herself that she was at work, not a place for desire.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Bowen?” she asked, trying to keep her mind on business and not the way his suit jacket fit his broad shoulders.
“I’ve asked you to call me Adam when we’re not in the presence of the other regents,” he said.
“It wouldn’t be proper,” she said, trying not to notice that the dark-blue shirt he wore made his eyes even brighter and more penetrating than usual.
“And are you always proper, Grace?”
Yes, sadly she was. She nodded. Too bad other members of her staff weren’t as vigilant. “I think maybe that’s a good thing, considering the problems our school is facing.”
He gave her a wry grin. “I need to use your office computer to print an e-mail that I just received and fax back a response.”
She led him down the hall to her office. She logged on to her computer and then left him to his work. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
Adam accessed the Internet and read the e-mail Lana, his assistant, had sent him. Every business had its headaches, but lately running AXIOM was no longer just a fun adventure, especially where Viper was concerned.
Viper had been one of the first bands he’d signed to his label and he felt a sense of loyalty to them. And the last year and a half had been hard on both the band and the label. Lead singer Stevie Taylor’s mother had been sick and dying of cancer. Stevie had reacted to his grief by partying harder, and when Stevie drank he got violent. The latest episode involved three staff members at a Paris hotel and the authorities.
Adam rubbed his brow as the list of people he had to talk to lengthened. He needed a conference call with Mitch Hollaran, Stevie’s attorney, and Nico DeTrio, AXIOM’s attorney.
He picked up the phone and called Lana, giving her specific instructions for dealing with Stevie, who was more trouble than he was worth as far as the bottom line was concerned. But since Viper had made Adam his first million independent of his inheritance, he would put up with more crap from them than any other band he had. He hit the print icon and waited for his document.
As he turned back from the printer, he bumped into Grace’s desk. Her office was a decent size, but not really big enough for the large oak desk. Two file folders fell to the floor and papers spilled out of both of them.
He dropped to one knee to pick them up, glancing at the papers for a second. The words breast and mouth caught his eye, and he pulled that page farther from the folder, reading it. He was surprised to see a very racy story that opened with the boss and secretary engaged in a steamy embrace on an office conference table. It was titled “Adam’s Mistress,” by Stephanie Grace. Not much of a stretch to conclude that this was Grace’s pen name.
But even more intriguing was the fact that “Adam” bore a startling resemblance, both physically and financially, to him. And the heroine’s name was Grace.
He finished reading that first scene, feeling more than a little aroused by the sexy images he assumed Grace had created. There were almost five pages of first-person fantasy there.
There was a knock on the door. Adam stuffed the scene back into the folder and covered it with his own papers. “Come in.”
Grace stood in the doorway, looking the same as she always had. But for the first time, he really noticed her. Not as a school administrator but as a woman. He couldn’t help but see that the silky shirt she wore matched the one her heroine had on. Grace’s real blouse was covered with a boxy jacket.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mr. O’Shea is anxious to continue the meeting. Will you need just a few more minutes, or should we reconvene after lunch?”
He was in no hurry to return to the meeting until he had a chance to think about the contents of the folder, but he knew the situation with the school needed to be resolved. Adam followed Grace back down the hall, trying not to dwell on what he’d read. He still saw the professional front she presented to him and the board, but his image of her was shifting. He saw more.
There was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes as she stood at the front of the room, knotting her fingers together as she waited for everyone’s attention to return to her. When she spoke her voice was soft but firm. Not loud, not booming. There were layers to this woman he’d never realized were there.
She glanced at the student-council president and her entire demeanor changed. A fire lit in her eyes.
“We’re not willing to let one mistake close our school. I’ve spent the entire weekend meeting with our teachers and staff and then with the student council, and we are all committed to keeping Tremmel-Bowen open. The plan that we’ve devised is multipronged.”
“That’s admirable, Ms. Stephens, but—”
“Let her finish, Malcolm,” Adam said. “Then we can analyze her plan.”
“It’s not really my plan, we’ve all had a say in it.”
“Even the PTA?” Malcolm asked.
“We’ve negotiated a few things with the PTA to get them to buy into this plan, Malcolm.”
“Let Sue-Ellen answer for the PTA.”
“Yes, we are willing to work with the teachers on this new plan,” Sue-Ellen said a bit reluctantly.
Adam leaned back in his chair, listening as Grace talked about fiscal responsibility, community service and new teacher standards and guidelines. She sparkled when she talked about the school, her passion coming to the fore.
“Thank you, Grace,” Adam said as she finished her presentation.
“Yes, thank you. I do feel, though, that this is too little too late,” Malcolm said.
“Malcolm, why don’t we table this discussion until the next meeting?” Adam suggested.
“Sounds like a great idea,” Grace said.
Adam called for a vote and Malcolm was the only one to vote against taking a break. Slowly the conference room emptied. Adam held back, waiting until only he and Grace were left in the room.
“I’ll see you later,” she said, brushing past him and heading back to her office.
Adam knew he should just let her go. That reading the rest of the story he’d found in her office was a bad idea. Pursuing her was an even worse one, but she’d caught his attention. And not just with her passion for getting the school back on track.
She turned to walk out of the room, and for the first time he really watched her. Saw the feminine body beneath the dull clothes that were really too big for her body. Observed the curve of her calf and the sway of her hips. It was pure temptation. Her stride was slow and measured; she moved teasingly with each step she took. She favored skirts that ended at her knee and two-inch heels.
He followed her into her office and found her chatting with her assistant, Bruce.
“Grace, can I have a minute?”
She bit her lower lip and then nodded, closing the door as her assistant left.
“What’s the matter?”
She took a seat in one of the guest chairs. As she crossed her legs, the hem of her skirt rose over her knee. He realized for the first time that her legs were bare. Her skin looked satiny smooth.
Adam wasn’t sure how to bring up the sexy story he’d read earlier. The fantasy revealed a vulnerability in the woman sitting across from him. One he didn’t want anyone else to see.
Her fantasy story was racy, but also very sweet, revealing more of the woman than he’d bet she’d be comfortable knowing she exposed in her writing.
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?”
“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 all want to avoid that situation,” Grace said. “I’d love to talk to you and get your input.”
“Adam, will you be helping Grace?”
“Not that Grace needs my help, but yes, I’m going to be an active part of the school community until the end of the year.”
“I’ll be happy to serve on a committee with both of you.”
Grace had absolutely no idea how this had happened. She didn’t work well in groups. There was no way she wanted both Adam and Sue-Ellen in her office on a regular basis.
“We can work out the details of our committee after the board meets this afternoon,” Adam replied.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Sue-Ellen said and walked away.
Grace glared after her, hating the fact that Sue-Ellen had bullied her way onto a committee that Grace wasn’t even sure she wanted to be a part of. If she was on a committee with Sue-Ellen, she’d have a hard time holding her tongue and being the nice little headmistress she was supposed to be. Of all the parents she dealt with, Sue-Ellen was the one who pushed her buttons.
Sue-Ellen glanced back over her shoulder with a smug half-smile. Grace had the feeling Sue-Ellen knew exactly what she did to her.
“Will you do something for me?” Adam asked.
“In return for your help at the school?” She didn’t want to say no since he was doing her a huge favor but she’d learned a long time ago not to agree to something without hearing all the details first.
“No. I’m going to help you without you being in my debt.”
He seemed a little offended that she’d thought she’d have to pay him for being nice to her. But he was a savvy businessman, and she knew he didn’t just donate his time to help anyone out. Even the school that was his family’s legacy.
“Then why?”
“Curiosity,” he said.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked after a few seconds.
“Have dinner with me,” he said.
Dinner with Adam Bowen…oh, my God. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to run and hide at the same time. Her resolution to change herself and not wait for her life to change around her was still so new that she had a moment’s thought that she’d just forget about it and sink back into her old life. After all, it was Monday night and she didn’t have TiVo. She’d miss her favorite television show.
This was it, she thought, glancing up at him.
“You’re staring at me,” he said.
She blinked and realized she had been. Just looking at that perfectly formed mouth. Wondering for the millionth time what it would feel like pressed to hers. “Am I?”
He quirked one eyebrow at her. She fought to keep her expression serene. To somehow keep him from guessing that he had any effect on her. But she knew that he was used to being around much more sophisticated women and a small-town girl from west Texas was going to be no match for him.
“Yes, you are,” he said.
“You’re a very attractive man.”
“I can’t believe you’re just noticing,” he said.
Startled she had to laugh. “You aren’t going to deny it?”
“Women seem to find the arrangement of my features pleasing.”
She shook her head. An innate charm imbued everything he did and said. She wondered if it stemmed from his childhood. She knew he was the pampered son of older parents. And her own childhood had been very different. Was that the key to adult success?
“I wish I had your confidence,” she said before she could stop the words. She’d gone to school this morning knowing she was going to have to fight to keep her career going, never imagining that she’d find herself in a different relationship with a man she’d fantasized about for a long time.
“Have dinner with me and I’ll teach you how to get it.”
She nodded, unable to say more. This was a fantasy come true. So why did she feel as if she were about to start something more potentially scandalous than the mess she was already in?
Three
Grace needed more of Adam. She wanted more. Her heart beat so swiftly and loudly she was sure he could hear it. She scraped her fingernails lightly down his upper body. He groaned, the sound rumbling up from his chest. He leaned back, bracing himself on his elbows.
And let her explore. This was different than the hurried couplings she’d had with boyfriends in the past. Encounters that had happened in the dark and were over almost before they’d begun.
“Last chance to stop before we go too far, Grace.”
Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace
Adam paid the check and escorted Grace out of the restaurant. He wasn’t sure what had happened in there. Seduction for him was a well-thought-out game and caressing her in the middle of a restaurant had not been his intent.
He put his hand on the small of her back seemingly for the courtesy the gesture afforded, but he acknowledged to himself that he wanted to touch her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and feel her curves nestled against him.
He wanted to kiss her, He wanted to take all the time he wanted to explore her. To figure out the mysterious depths that he sensed were hidden inside her.
He didn’t want to go back to the school and drop her off. He didn’t want to spend the afternoon in meetings with Malcolm, who was out for revenge and wanted to close the school and then sell it. He didn’t want…to leave her.
He liked the quietness she brought to him. The way she really listened when he talked. And the shyness that he had been able to coax her into forgetting while they’d been eating. He also liked her honesty. She wasn’t pretending to be someone else or hiding from the mess the school was in.
Lies were something he simply couldn’t tolerate, even well-meaning ones, and with Grace he got the impression that she was as honest as the day was long. Though she didn’t see herself the same way he did.
He loved her hair and wanted to see it falling around her shoulders instead of clasped at the back of her neck. He seated her in his car, a black Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano, and walked around to the driver’s side.
She fussed with her hair as he started the car.
“What are you doing?”
She glanced over at him, her head tipped to one side. But her hands stayed at the back of her neck. “My hair is a little wild and not very professional.”
He could think of no woman who embodied professionalism more than Grace. He captured her wrist and pulled her hands free of her hair. The thick brown length of it spilled around her shoulders. She watched him with wide eyes, clearly waiting to see what he’d do next.
“It’s not the hair that makes you professional.” She had no idea how upstanding she seemed. He’d never even glanced past the surface of who she was until he’d seen her secret fantasies written on the page. To be honest, a big part of the reason was that she gave the impression of being a no-nonsense, by-the-book administrator.
“Easily said by a man. You have no idea what it’s like to be in a room full of perfectly coiffed, straight-haired women and be the only one with this hair,” she said, gesturing to her head.
“Does putting it up make you more confident?” he asked. There was a sparkle in her eyes that he thought might be temper. But he knew she wouldn’t lose it with him. He was coming to know Grace better than he suspected she wanted him to. The fact of the matter was, Grace needed him to help save her school so she wouldn’t tell him off no matter how much he ticked her off.
She shrugged, and he knew that he’d stumbled onto something more than a hairstyle choice. She glanced out the window as he turned on the car. He didn’t put the car in gear, only turned on the air conditioning so they didn’t roast while they continued the conversation.
Which, it seemed, had stalled. She wasn’t going to say anything else and probably expected him to behave in a polite, gentlemanly fashion and let the subject drop. But this woman had written about him in a way that no other woman ever had. On page, she’d made him seem to be a hero. And Adam Bowen had never been anyone’s hero.
“Grace…” he said, softly, reaching over to stroke her face. Her skin was the softest he’d ever touched.
She flinched away from him. “Don’t, Adam. We can’t.”
She was right. With the intense public scrutiny of the school, the last thing he should be thinking about was Grace and himself alone. But his mind was consumed with images of the two of them.
He was careful to keep a barrier between himself and other people because he knew he’d always move on. Moving on was the way he survived, something he’d learned the hard way after the death of his parents. He remembered standing in the foyer of that big empty house that had always been filled with their presence and realizing he was all alone. Their deaths when his father’s twin-engine Cessna crashed had rocked his world.
But even then he hadn’t realized how truly alone he was.
She touched his hand, rubbing her finger over the back of his knuckles and making him realize how soft and small she was compared to him.
“It’s not like we even know each other,” she said.
“I want to change that. After all, you oversee one of my investment properties.”
“Investment property? I thought the school was your family’s legacy.”
“It’s a Bowen legacy, but I view it more from a financial angle,” he said in a way that didn’t invite more questions.
“And if I don’t pull it out of trouble, you’re going to lose money—that’s your main concern?”
He took her chin in his hand, moving her head up so that their eyes met. He waited a full minute before saying anything to her. Making sure she realized that he was not just using practiced lines to charm her.
“No, Grace. Because you are the kind of woman who makes a man realize there’s more to life than investments.”
“I am not. Why would you think that?”
“The passion you have for Tremmel-Bowen.”
“I’ve always had it, and you’ve never noticed me before today.”
She had a point, but he wasn’t going to mention the story he’d read…“Adam’s Mistress.” He wanted her to reveal it to him. “It’s the way you defended the school and the students.”
She took his wrist in both of her hands and tried to move his hand from her face. He let her push him away, his fingers caressing her skin as he dropped his hand to his lap.
When he reached for her again, to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she shifted in the seat and gave him a hard stare.
“I’m warning you.”
“Warning me?”
“Yes. This kind of behavior and comments like you just made—that’s what I was talking about. Do you think I’ve never glanced in a mirror and seen myself? I know exactly the type of woman you usually have on your arm.”
“I don’t have a type,” he said. He really didn’t. He liked all women no matter what their shape or style. He liked that their bodies were different than his. The feminine grace they used when they moved. The way they really got to the heart of the matter. Just as Grace was doing now, though it was making him uncomfortable. Hell, he thought, he even liked that with Grace. Liked the way she didn’t pretend that this was something casual.
“Yeah, right,” she said. “I think it’s time we returned to the school.”
He wondered if she’d sound so sure if she knew the thoughts that prim, school-headmistress tone gave him. He wanted to argue with her, get her to admit he didn’t have a type. But there would be time for that later. Tonight.
The problems she’d left behind when she’d gone to lunch with Adam waited for her when she returned. Sue-Ellen had set up an appointment for the next morning. She was gathering the PTA troops and would be bringing other parents who wanted to take an active part in reshaping the school.
Grace had the beginnings of a headache, no doubt brought on by the pressure of trying to convince the board not to close the school. But she thought the intensity that Adam had shown her was also a part of it. She’d wanted him for a long time and now it seemed he was finally noticing her as a woman.
Why?
She sighed and searched around for the budget file that Jose had made notes on.
“Bruce, have you seen my budget file?” she called out the door.
“I put it on the corner of your desk before we left for the meeting,” her assistant replied.
Grace went back to her desk and picked up a pile of folders, suddenly remembering that she’d put a story she’d meant to enter in a romance writing contest in a similar folder.
Oh, my God.
Frantic, she started searching through all the folders, not finding the budget report or her story “Adam’s Mistress.”
Oh, this was so not good. She had absolutely no excuse to have printed the document out here at work, but her printer at home was almost eight years old and it was difficult to find printer ink for it. Currently, she was out.
There was a knock on the door and she glanced up. Jose stood there with a folder in his hand. A folder that was identical to…well, every other folder in her office, since they purchased folders in bulk.
Calm down, Grace.
“Got a minute?”
“Sure,” she said, amazed that her voice sounded so calm and serene when inside she was ready to scream.
“I grabbed the budget report to double-check over lunch. I think we need to reevaluate the funds we have.”
She was partially relieved that Jose was holding the budget and not her story. “Please tell me we have more money than we thought.”
“I wish I could.”
She sank down in her chair and gestured for Jose to come farther into the room. “I think we’re going to need fifty thousand to make it until the end of the school year.”
“That’s a lot of car washes,” she said. The school had never held many fundraisers. They had a golf tournament every year in the fall to raise funds. But parents and alumni had already contributed to that.
“The kids are willing to participate to some extent, but the one thing we haven’t slipped on is our academic excellence.”
She understood what Jose was saying. If they asked the students to start participating in a variety of fundraising activities, it would distract them from their studies.
“I have a meeting tomorrow morning with Sue-Ellen. I think the parents will be a great resource for this. Jose, will you please call our alumni president and see if he’s available tomorrow at ten?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks,” she said. As Jose got up and left her office, she sank back into the chair. The next few months were going to be difficult. And she had to find that story she’d printed out.
She didn’t need the additional worry that a student would find it. Or worse, Sue-Ellen or Malcolm.
Oh, no. What if Adam had found it?
Was that why he’d taken her to lunch and said he’d help her with the school? Was he setting her up for a private meeting where he’d tell Malcolm about the story and fire her?
She had no time to dwell on that possibility as she spent the afternoon meeting with individual board members. Meetings that Adam had set up for her. The support she garnered was worth the time she spent with them.
The afternoon went by quickly. She had a small break and searched every inch of her office but couldn’t find her story. Jose e-mailed her his ideas for their fund shortage, and they were all really good.
“Grace, Dawn O’Shea called while you were in a meeting. She wants to talk to you about possibly getting her job back.” Bruce hovered in her doorway uncertainly.
“I can’t talk to her today,” Grace said. She felt sorry for Dawn, losing her job and her husband. But Dawn’s actions had greatly hurt the school, and saving Tremmel-Bowen was Grace’s priority.
“I told her you’d call next week.”
“Thanks.”
Bruce left at six. Grace researched fundraising ideas on the Internet and sent a few links to Jose and Sue-Ellen. She glanced up from her computer at seven-thirty when she heard voices in the outer office. Her head ached at the thought of how much work she still had to do.
The missing story scared her. It had the potential to put all the work she’d done today to save the school to waste. At least she hadn’t put her real name on it as the author. But the characters’ names—Adam and Grace—were pretty damning. She’d have to change those before she submitted it anywhere. If she submitted it.
She knew her assistant would rush back to help her if she called him. But she didn’t exactly want Bruce searching her office for that file folder.
“Grace? Got a minute?”
Adam stood in her doorway with Malcolm just behind him. The smile of welcome froze on her face as she noted the file folder held loosely in his hands.
The sinking feeling in her stomach grew as she waited for Malcolm or Adam to speak. She was a nervous wreck and she hated that. This was her domain. The one place in the world that she’d found where she really fit.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
“Ms. Stephens, do you have time to discuss your financial plan with me now?” Malcolm asked.
She wanted to say no. But she wasn’t going to turn away from the olive branch that Malcolm offered. All day long she’d heard from other board members that the decision to keep the school open had to be unanimous, so if Malcolm wasn’t on board by the end of the school year, Tremmel-Bowen would be closed.
“Sure. I was just about to order some dinner, can I get something for you both?”
“We won’t be that long. We can go down to the conference room so we’ll have more room.”
Grace followed Malcolm down the hall. She empathized with him. She would want to shut down the school as well if she were in Malcolm’s shoes. Betrayal. It was one thing she understood better than most.
Adam dropped behind to speak to the night-maintenance supervisor and Grace found herself alone with Malcolm. She explained the shortage error they’d just found and then spent forty-five minutes arguing over the tiniest details in the budget. Grace was careful to keep her temper, but she was beginning to believe it was going to be impossible to convince Malcolm to give the school a reprieve.
In the back of her mind was the fear that all the work that she and Adam had done today would be undone by her story surfacing somewhere. She thought of all the people who’d been in and out of her office throughout the day. She’d had the student council representatives in there and, to be honest, she would be even more horrified if one of them had found the folder than if Adam had.
“Ms. Stephens, if you aren’t going to pay attention you’re just wasting our time.”
“I am paying attention. I don’t see this as a waste of time.”
“I do,” he said. She felt the noose tighten and realized that Malcolm might have given in until the end of semester but beyond that he wasn’t vested in seeing the school survive.
She reached across the table and touched the back of his hand. He glanced up at her. “Yes?”
“What can I say to you?”
He didn’t pretend not to understand her. “Nothing. I’m sorry, Grace. I have a lot of respect for you personally but I can’t get around the fact that this school needs to be closed.”
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Katherine Garbera
School headmistress Grace Stephens never thought her private fantasies could become public.But millionaire businessman Adam Bowen was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted. And he wanted Grace to act out every word of the previously secret, suddenly missing steamy love story she'd written all about them.Adam held her future–and every part of her body–in his hands. Leaving Grace no choice but to go from his make-believe mistress to his very real one.
Make-Believe Mistress
Katherine Garbera
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Since I’m now officially an Evelette,
I’d like to say thanks to Janet, Roz, Denise and Lenora for welcoming me to the gang. And special thanks to the leader of the Evelette pack…Eve Gaddy!!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Coming Next Month
One
Adam walked into her office like he owned the place, closing the door behind him and locking it. He brushed his hand along the side of her cheek and tunneled his fingers into her hair, tipping her head back. She shook from the brief contact and bit her lip to keep from asking for more.
Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace
Grace Stephens found it hard to think when Adam Bowen turned that intense blue-green stare on her. Her pulse beat loudly in the back of her head. Even though she’d rehearsed what she’d say at this meeting a hundred times, in the presence of her secret crush, she couldn’t talk.
“Ms. Stephens, I asked you what action you think this board should take,” he said.
His voice was deep and slightly gravelly. But it fit him. He was a big man, almost six-foot-two, muscular and totally ripped. She’d never seen him without a healthy tan. However, usually he just glanced over her and moved on. She hadn’t anticipated what effect being the center of his attention would have on her.
“Mr. Bowen,” she said, sorting through her notes on the table. As soon as she looked away from Adam her concentration returned. She was the headmistress of Tremmel-Bowen Preparatory, a very prestigious school in Plano, Texas, she reminded herself. It was an institution that had long been the breeding ground of powerful world politicians and future captains of industry.
Though lately they’d been in the news more for their scandals.
Get it together, girl.
She cleared her throat and pushed to her feet, wishing her five-foot-two frame was just a little bit taller. She walked to the front of the boardroom where her assistant, Bruce, had set up her laptop and a projector. The vice principal, Jose Martinez, rubbed the back of his neck as she fumbled with her presentation. It wasn’t just her job on the line, but the jobs of all her staff. Bruce, Jose and seventy-five teachers and support staff.
“I’m sorry for the delay. I was gathering my thoughts to talk to you and the rest of the board of regents.”
She was incredibly nervous about this meeting. The thought of disgrace and unemployment were enough to make her sweat. She refused to go back to the life she’d struggled so hard to escape. The idea was enough to draw her attention back to the matter at hand.
“Tremmel-Bowen has long been the place where diplomats and world leaders send their children for polishing and training to become future world leaders.”
“In recent years, that reputation has suffered,” Sue-Ellen Hanshaw said. The head of the PTA was a former beauty pageant queen and always made Grace feel like a country mouse. Sue-Ellen’s makeup was flawless, her hair salon perfect and her body, of course, in the best shape money could buy.
“I’m aware of that. We’ve made a lot of changes this year to get the school back on track. But of course, we’ve had this one minor setback.”
“I wouldn’t call it minor,” Malcolm O’Shea said. As the most active regent on the board, Malcolm had the power to influence the others, to keep the school open.
Of course he wouldn’t. It had been his wife—Dawn—whose photo, in a torrid embrace with another teacher, had been splashed across the Internet. Scuttlebutt said that Malcolm and Dawn were currently in mediation preparing for their divorce.
But Adam was still staring at her and his eyes held more than their usual hint of boredom. They held anger, too. She couldn’t blame him. After all, she was ultimately responsible for two of her teachers getting caught having sex by her students. She might have been able to manage the students if a picture of the incident hadn’t been made public on the school’s Web site. Stupid cell-phone cameras.
She felt flames of embarrassment sweep up her neck. Dawn had tried to explain that she’d gotten caught up in the moment and forgotten where she was, but Grace hadn’t bought it. She’d kissed her share of guys—okay, maybe fewer than her share—and not once had she forgotten where she was.
Adam cleared his throat and Grace swallowed hard. His eyes held determination; she knew he and the other regents were here to deliver bad news.
The prep school that bore his name, which at one time enjoyed a reputation for being one of the most prestigious in the world, was now mired in scandal and debt. Not at all what his great-grandfather and Angus Tremmel had envisioned when the school was founded more than one hundred years ago. And as headmistress she was ultimately the one to blame. But she had a plan—a plan that had absolutely nothing to do with staring into Adam’s deep-blue eyes.
She took a breath and moved to the front of the room. “I want to thank you all for agreeing to this meeting today. I understand your position on closing the school. However, I think once you see the plan that we have ready to implement, you’ll give us a second chance.”
She skimmed her gaze over the regents, parents and student council, who were also in attendance, keeping a determined and confident smile fixed to her face. Most of them didn’t exactly looked inspired by her speech. And Malcolm didn’t look close to even listening to any kind of save-the-school plan.
“We’ve terminated the contracts of Dawn O’Shea and Vernon Balder. The fraternization policy at the school is very clear. They both understood the reasons for their dismissal. I’ve made it clear to the staff that there are no exceptions to any of our rules.”
“That’s a good course of action, but it’s not enough to change the board’s decision, Ms. Stephens,” Malcolm said.
Grace was disappointed by his comment but had expected nothing less. Malcolm had to have been humiliated when the pictures of Dawn were published first on the Internet and then in the local paper. He was out for blood.
“What Malcolm means is that we’re also concerned with the school’s financial state. As you know, the incident caused many families to withdraw their students and we had to refund tuition, which affected the operating budget for the remainder of the school year,” Adam said.
Grace took a deep breath. It was January and the start of the second semester—enrollment had dropped by half. Parents didn’t want their future leaders touched by any kind of scandal. She was painfully aware that the school was barely going to cover operating expenses until the school year ended in May.
This was the first conversation she’d had with Adam that had involved more than one- or two-word answers. “I know that. I’ve been working with our school accountant and I think we have a plan that will keep us under budget until the end of the year.”
“Even if we keep the school open until the end of the semester, we’ll be back here discussing the same situation in the fall.”
Grace felt her heart drop. Though the board had agreed to this meeting, they’d already made up their minds and there seemed to be nothing she could say to change them. But giving up without a fight wasn’t her style.
“I don’t agree with that point of view, Mr. Bowen,” she said. “Our remaining student body wants to return next year and, together with the student council, we’ve started an aggressive recruiting campaign.”
She’d spent her entire life in pursuit of this one goal—living a proper life and working at this school. She wanted the conservative reputation she now had. She’d wanted to be anything other than the sinful daughter of the Preacher Reverend Stephens.
She forced that to the back of her mind. She definitely wasn’t going to dwell on the terribly clichéd fact that her mother had run off with a traveling salesman. Jenny Stephens had left long before Grace had been old enough to ask to go with her, and the reverend had made sure Jenny had little time with Grace thereafter. Although he’d taken her to her mother’s funeral after Jenny’s death from an aneurysm.
She rubbed the back of her neck and tried to concentrate, but the smell of Adam’s cologne distracted her. It was earthy, woodsy, a scent that titillated her senses.
“I’d like the chance to show you our entire presentation before the board votes,” she said.
“That’s why we’re here, Ms. Stephens.”
Adam’s BlackBerry twittered and he pulled the unit closer to him. His hands were large, his fingers long and his nails nicer looking than hers, which were chewed to the quick.
“Excuse me,” Adam said. “I need to see Ms. Stephens outside for a minute.”
“Of course, that will give Bruce and me time to set up the presentation for our fiscal reconstruction plan. Will fifteen minutes be enough?” Jose asked.
“Perfect,” Adam said.
He gestured for her to lead the way. She was conscious of him walking close behind her until they were outside the boardroom and in the relative privacy of the hallway in the administrative building. He had his hand on the small of her back. She felt the heat of his touch through the layers of her clothing.
She hoped that none of what she’d thought earlier showed on her face. She tried to keep her breathing even and told herself that she was at work, not a place for desire.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Bowen?” she asked, trying to keep her mind on business and not the way his suit jacket fit his broad shoulders.
“I’ve asked you to call me Adam when we’re not in the presence of the other regents,” he said.
“It wouldn’t be proper,” she said, trying not to notice that the dark-blue shirt he wore made his eyes even brighter and more penetrating than usual.
“And are you always proper, Grace?”
Yes, sadly she was. She nodded. Too bad other members of her staff weren’t as vigilant. “I think maybe that’s a good thing, considering the problems our school is facing.”
He gave her a wry grin. “I need to use your office computer to print an e-mail that I just received and fax back a response.”
She led him down the hall to her office. She logged on to her computer and then left him to his work. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
Adam accessed the Internet and read the e-mail Lana, his assistant, had sent him. Every business had its headaches, but lately running AXIOM was no longer just a fun adventure, especially where Viper was concerned.
Viper had been one of the first bands he’d signed to his label and he felt a sense of loyalty to them. And the last year and a half had been hard on both the band and the label. Lead singer Stevie Taylor’s mother had been sick and dying of cancer. Stevie had reacted to his grief by partying harder, and when Stevie drank he got violent. The latest episode involved three staff members at a Paris hotel and the authorities.
Adam rubbed his brow as the list of people he had to talk to lengthened. He needed a conference call with Mitch Hollaran, Stevie’s attorney, and Nico DeTrio, AXIOM’s attorney.
He picked up the phone and called Lana, giving her specific instructions for dealing with Stevie, who was more trouble than he was worth as far as the bottom line was concerned. But since Viper had made Adam his first million independent of his inheritance, he would put up with more crap from them than any other band he had. He hit the print icon and waited for his document.
As he turned back from the printer, he bumped into Grace’s desk. Her office was a decent size, but not really big enough for the large oak desk. Two file folders fell to the floor and papers spilled out of both of them.
He dropped to one knee to pick them up, glancing at the papers for a second. The words breast and mouth caught his eye, and he pulled that page farther from the folder, reading it. He was surprised to see a very racy story that opened with the boss and secretary engaged in a steamy embrace on an office conference table. It was titled “Adam’s Mistress,” by Stephanie Grace. Not much of a stretch to conclude that this was Grace’s pen name.
But even more intriguing was the fact that “Adam” bore a startling resemblance, both physically and financially, to him. And the heroine’s name was Grace.
He finished reading that first scene, feeling more than a little aroused by the sexy images he assumed Grace had created. There were almost five pages of first-person fantasy there.
There was a knock on the door. Adam stuffed the scene back into the folder and covered it with his own papers. “Come in.”
Grace stood in the doorway, looking the same as she always had. But for the first time, he really noticed her. Not as a school administrator but as a woman. He couldn’t help but see that the silky shirt she wore matched the one her heroine had on. Grace’s real blouse was covered with a boxy jacket.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mr. O’Shea is anxious to continue the meeting. Will you need just a few more minutes, or should we reconvene after lunch?”
He was in no hurry to return to the meeting until he had a chance to think about the contents of the folder, but he knew the situation with the school needed to be resolved. Adam followed Grace back down the hall, trying not to dwell on what he’d read. He still saw the professional front she presented to him and the board, but his image of her was shifting. He saw more.
There was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes as she stood at the front of the room, knotting her fingers together as she waited for everyone’s attention to return to her. When she spoke her voice was soft but firm. Not loud, not booming. There were layers to this woman he’d never realized were there.
She glanced at the student-council president and her entire demeanor changed. A fire lit in her eyes.
“We’re not willing to let one mistake close our school. I’ve spent the entire weekend meeting with our teachers and staff and then with the student council, and we are all committed to keeping Tremmel-Bowen open. The plan that we’ve devised is multipronged.”
“That’s admirable, Ms. Stephens, but—”
“Let her finish, Malcolm,” Adam said. “Then we can analyze her plan.”
“It’s not really my plan, we’ve all had a say in it.”
“Even the PTA?” Malcolm asked.
“We’ve negotiated a few things with the PTA to get them to buy into this plan, Malcolm.”
“Let Sue-Ellen answer for the PTA.”
“Yes, we are willing to work with the teachers on this new plan,” Sue-Ellen said a bit reluctantly.
Adam leaned back in his chair, listening as Grace talked about fiscal responsibility, community service and new teacher standards and guidelines. She sparkled when she talked about the school, her passion coming to the fore.
“Thank you, Grace,” Adam said as she finished her presentation.
“Yes, thank you. I do feel, though, that this is too little too late,” Malcolm said.
“Malcolm, why don’t we table this discussion until the next meeting?” Adam suggested.
“Sounds like a great idea,” Grace said.
Adam called for a vote and Malcolm was the only one to vote against taking a break. Slowly the conference room emptied. Adam held back, waiting until only he and Grace were left in the room.
“I’ll see you later,” she said, brushing past him and heading back to her office.
Adam knew he should just let her go. That reading the rest of the story he’d found in her office was a bad idea. Pursuing her was an even worse one, but she’d caught his attention. And not just with her passion for getting the school back on track.
She turned to walk out of the room, and for the first time he really watched her. Saw the feminine body beneath the dull clothes that were really too big for her body. Observed the curve of her calf and the sway of her hips. It was pure temptation. Her stride was slow and measured; she moved teasingly with each step she took. She favored skirts that ended at her knee and two-inch heels.
He followed her into her office and found her chatting with her assistant, Bruce.
“Grace, can I have a minute?”
She bit her lower lip and then nodded, closing the door as her assistant left.
“What’s the matter?”
She took a seat in one of the guest chairs. As she crossed her legs, the hem of her skirt rose over her knee. He realized for the first time that her legs were bare. Her skin looked satiny smooth.
Adam wasn’t sure how to bring up the sexy story he’d read earlier. The fantasy revealed a vulnerability in the woman sitting across from him. One he didn’t want anyone else to see.
Her fantasy story was racy, but also very sweet, revealing more of the woman than he’d bet she’d be comfortable knowing she exposed in her writing.
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?”
“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 all want to avoid that situation,” Grace said. “I’d love to talk to you and get your input.”
“Adam, will you be helping Grace?”
“Not that Grace needs my help, but yes, I’m going to be an active part of the school community until the end of the year.”
“I’ll be happy to serve on a committee with both of you.”
Grace had absolutely no idea how this had happened. She didn’t work well in groups. There was no way she wanted both Adam and Sue-Ellen in her office on a regular basis.
“We can work out the details of our committee after the board meets this afternoon,” Adam replied.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Sue-Ellen said and walked away.
Grace glared after her, hating the fact that Sue-Ellen had bullied her way onto a committee that Grace wasn’t even sure she wanted to be a part of. If she was on a committee with Sue-Ellen, she’d have a hard time holding her tongue and being the nice little headmistress she was supposed to be. Of all the parents she dealt with, Sue-Ellen was the one who pushed her buttons.
Sue-Ellen glanced back over her shoulder with a smug half-smile. Grace had the feeling Sue-Ellen knew exactly what she did to her.
“Will you do something for me?” Adam asked.
“In return for your help at the school?” She didn’t want to say no since he was doing her a huge favor but she’d learned a long time ago not to agree to something without hearing all the details first.
“No. I’m going to help you without you being in my debt.”
He seemed a little offended that she’d thought she’d have to pay him for being nice to her. But he was a savvy businessman, and she knew he didn’t just donate his time to help anyone out. Even the school that was his family’s legacy.
“Then why?”
“Curiosity,” he said.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked after a few seconds.
“Have dinner with me,” he said.
Dinner with Adam Bowen…oh, my God. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to run and hide at the same time. Her resolution to change herself and not wait for her life to change around her was still so new that she had a moment’s thought that she’d just forget about it and sink back into her old life. After all, it was Monday night and she didn’t have TiVo. She’d miss her favorite television show.
This was it, she thought, glancing up at him.
“You’re staring at me,” he said.
She blinked and realized she had been. Just looking at that perfectly formed mouth. Wondering for the millionth time what it would feel like pressed to hers. “Am I?”
He quirked one eyebrow at her. She fought to keep her expression serene. To somehow keep him from guessing that he had any effect on her. But she knew that he was used to being around much more sophisticated women and a small-town girl from west Texas was going to be no match for him.
“Yes, you are,” he said.
“You’re a very attractive man.”
“I can’t believe you’re just noticing,” he said.
Startled she had to laugh. “You aren’t going to deny it?”
“Women seem to find the arrangement of my features pleasing.”
She shook her head. An innate charm imbued everything he did and said. She wondered if it stemmed from his childhood. She knew he was the pampered son of older parents. And her own childhood had been very different. Was that the key to adult success?
“I wish I had your confidence,” she said before she could stop the words. She’d gone to school this morning knowing she was going to have to fight to keep her career going, never imagining that she’d find herself in a different relationship with a man she’d fantasized about for a long time.
“Have dinner with me and I’ll teach you how to get it.”
She nodded, unable to say more. This was a fantasy come true. So why did she feel as if she were about to start something more potentially scandalous than the mess she was already in?
Three
Grace needed more of Adam. She wanted more. Her heart beat so swiftly and loudly she was sure he could hear it. She scraped her fingernails lightly down his upper body. He groaned, the sound rumbling up from his chest. He leaned back, bracing himself on his elbows.
And let her explore. This was different than the hurried couplings she’d had with boyfriends in the past. Encounters that had happened in the dark and were over almost before they’d begun.
“Last chance to stop before we go too far, Grace.”
Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace
Adam paid the check and escorted Grace out of the restaurant. He wasn’t sure what had happened in there. Seduction for him was a well-thought-out game and caressing her in the middle of a restaurant had not been his intent.
He put his hand on the small of her back seemingly for the courtesy the gesture afforded, but he acknowledged to himself that he wanted to touch her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and feel her curves nestled against him.
He wanted to kiss her, He wanted to take all the time he wanted to explore her. To figure out the mysterious depths that he sensed were hidden inside her.
He didn’t want to go back to the school and drop her off. He didn’t want to spend the afternoon in meetings with Malcolm, who was out for revenge and wanted to close the school and then sell it. He didn’t want…to leave her.
He liked the quietness she brought to him. The way she really listened when he talked. And the shyness that he had been able to coax her into forgetting while they’d been eating. He also liked her honesty. She wasn’t pretending to be someone else or hiding from the mess the school was in.
Lies were something he simply couldn’t tolerate, even well-meaning ones, and with Grace he got the impression that she was as honest as the day was long. Though she didn’t see herself the same way he did.
He loved her hair and wanted to see it falling around her shoulders instead of clasped at the back of her neck. He seated her in his car, a black Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano, and walked around to the driver’s side.
She fussed with her hair as he started the car.
“What are you doing?”
She glanced over at him, her head tipped to one side. But her hands stayed at the back of her neck. “My hair is a little wild and not very professional.”
He could think of no woman who embodied professionalism more than Grace. He captured her wrist and pulled her hands free of her hair. The thick brown length of it spilled around her shoulders. She watched him with wide eyes, clearly waiting to see what he’d do next.
“It’s not the hair that makes you professional.” She had no idea how upstanding she seemed. He’d never even glanced past the surface of who she was until he’d seen her secret fantasies written on the page. To be honest, a big part of the reason was that she gave the impression of being a no-nonsense, by-the-book administrator.
“Easily said by a man. You have no idea what it’s like to be in a room full of perfectly coiffed, straight-haired women and be the only one with this hair,” she said, gesturing to her head.
“Does putting it up make you more confident?” he asked. There was a sparkle in her eyes that he thought might be temper. But he knew she wouldn’t lose it with him. He was coming to know Grace better than he suspected she wanted him to. The fact of the matter was, Grace needed him to help save her school so she wouldn’t tell him off no matter how much he ticked her off.
She shrugged, and he knew that he’d stumbled onto something more than a hairstyle choice. She glanced out the window as he turned on the car. He didn’t put the car in gear, only turned on the air conditioning so they didn’t roast while they continued the conversation.
Which, it seemed, had stalled. She wasn’t going to say anything else and probably expected him to behave in a polite, gentlemanly fashion and let the subject drop. But this woman had written about him in a way that no other woman ever had. On page, she’d made him seem to be a hero. And Adam Bowen had never been anyone’s hero.
“Grace…” he said, softly, reaching over to stroke her face. Her skin was the softest he’d ever touched.
She flinched away from him. “Don’t, Adam. We can’t.”
She was right. With the intense public scrutiny of the school, the last thing he should be thinking about was Grace and himself alone. But his mind was consumed with images of the two of them.
He was careful to keep a barrier between himself and other people because he knew he’d always move on. Moving on was the way he survived, something he’d learned the hard way after the death of his parents. He remembered standing in the foyer of that big empty house that had always been filled with their presence and realizing he was all alone. Their deaths when his father’s twin-engine Cessna crashed had rocked his world.
But even then he hadn’t realized how truly alone he was.
She touched his hand, rubbing her finger over the back of his knuckles and making him realize how soft and small she was compared to him.
“It’s not like we even know each other,” she said.
“I want to change that. After all, you oversee one of my investment properties.”
“Investment property? I thought the school was your family’s legacy.”
“It’s a Bowen legacy, but I view it more from a financial angle,” he said in a way that didn’t invite more questions.
“And if I don’t pull it out of trouble, you’re going to lose money—that’s your main concern?”
He took her chin in his hand, moving her head up so that their eyes met. He waited a full minute before saying anything to her. Making sure she realized that he was not just using practiced lines to charm her.
“No, Grace. Because you are the kind of woman who makes a man realize there’s more to life than investments.”
“I am not. Why would you think that?”
“The passion you have for Tremmel-Bowen.”
“I’ve always had it, and you’ve never noticed me before today.”
She had a point, but he wasn’t going to mention the story he’d read…“Adam’s Mistress.” He wanted her to reveal it to him. “It’s the way you defended the school and the students.”
She took his wrist in both of her hands and tried to move his hand from her face. He let her push him away, his fingers caressing her skin as he dropped his hand to his lap.
When he reached for her again, to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she shifted in the seat and gave him a hard stare.
“I’m warning you.”
“Warning me?”
“Yes. This kind of behavior and comments like you just made—that’s what I was talking about. Do you think I’ve never glanced in a mirror and seen myself? I know exactly the type of woman you usually have on your arm.”
“I don’t have a type,” he said. He really didn’t. He liked all women no matter what their shape or style. He liked that their bodies were different than his. The feminine grace they used when they moved. The way they really got to the heart of the matter. Just as Grace was doing now, though it was making him uncomfortable. Hell, he thought, he even liked that with Grace. Liked the way she didn’t pretend that this was something casual.
“Yeah, right,” she said. “I think it’s time we returned to the school.”
He wondered if she’d sound so sure if she knew the thoughts that prim, school-headmistress tone gave him. He wanted to argue with her, get her to admit he didn’t have a type. But there would be time for that later. Tonight.
The problems she’d left behind when she’d gone to lunch with Adam waited for her when she returned. Sue-Ellen had set up an appointment for the next morning. She was gathering the PTA troops and would be bringing other parents who wanted to take an active part in reshaping the school.
Grace had the beginnings of a headache, no doubt brought on by the pressure of trying to convince the board not to close the school. But she thought the intensity that Adam had shown her was also a part of it. She’d wanted him for a long time and now it seemed he was finally noticing her as a woman.
Why?
She sighed and searched around for the budget file that Jose had made notes on.
“Bruce, have you seen my budget file?” she called out the door.
“I put it on the corner of your desk before we left for the meeting,” her assistant replied.
Grace went back to her desk and picked up a pile of folders, suddenly remembering that she’d put a story she’d meant to enter in a romance writing contest in a similar folder.
Oh, my God.
Frantic, she started searching through all the folders, not finding the budget report or her story “Adam’s Mistress.”
Oh, this was so not good. She had absolutely no excuse to have printed the document out here at work, but her printer at home was almost eight years old and it was difficult to find printer ink for it. Currently, she was out.
There was a knock on the door and she glanced up. Jose stood there with a folder in his hand. A folder that was identical to…well, every other folder in her office, since they purchased folders in bulk.
Calm down, Grace.
“Got a minute?”
“Sure,” she said, amazed that her voice sounded so calm and serene when inside she was ready to scream.
“I grabbed the budget report to double-check over lunch. I think we need to reevaluate the funds we have.”
She was partially relieved that Jose was holding the budget and not her story. “Please tell me we have more money than we thought.”
“I wish I could.”
She sank down in her chair and gestured for Jose to come farther into the room. “I think we’re going to need fifty thousand to make it until the end of the school year.”
“That’s a lot of car washes,” she said. The school had never held many fundraisers. They had a golf tournament every year in the fall to raise funds. But parents and alumni had already contributed to that.
“The kids are willing to participate to some extent, but the one thing we haven’t slipped on is our academic excellence.”
She understood what Jose was saying. If they asked the students to start participating in a variety of fundraising activities, it would distract them from their studies.
“I have a meeting tomorrow morning with Sue-Ellen. I think the parents will be a great resource for this. Jose, will you please call our alumni president and see if he’s available tomorrow at ten?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks,” she said. As Jose got up and left her office, she sank back into the chair. The next few months were going to be difficult. And she had to find that story she’d printed out.
She didn’t need the additional worry that a student would find it. Or worse, Sue-Ellen or Malcolm.
Oh, no. What if Adam had found it?
Was that why he’d taken her to lunch and said he’d help her with the school? Was he setting her up for a private meeting where he’d tell Malcolm about the story and fire her?
She had no time to dwell on that possibility as she spent the afternoon meeting with individual board members. Meetings that Adam had set up for her. The support she garnered was worth the time she spent with them.
The afternoon went by quickly. She had a small break and searched every inch of her office but couldn’t find her story. Jose e-mailed her his ideas for their fund shortage, and they were all really good.
“Grace, Dawn O’Shea called while you were in a meeting. She wants to talk to you about possibly getting her job back.” Bruce hovered in her doorway uncertainly.
“I can’t talk to her today,” Grace said. She felt sorry for Dawn, losing her job and her husband. But Dawn’s actions had greatly hurt the school, and saving Tremmel-Bowen was Grace’s priority.
“I told her you’d call next week.”
“Thanks.”
Bruce left at six. Grace researched fundraising ideas on the Internet and sent a few links to Jose and Sue-Ellen. She glanced up from her computer at seven-thirty when she heard voices in the outer office. Her head ached at the thought of how much work she still had to do.
The missing story scared her. It had the potential to put all the work she’d done today to save the school to waste. At least she hadn’t put her real name on it as the author. But the characters’ names—Adam and Grace—were pretty damning. She’d have to change those before she submitted it anywhere. If she submitted it.
She knew her assistant would rush back to help her if she called him. But she didn’t exactly want Bruce searching her office for that file folder.
“Grace? Got a minute?”
Adam stood in her doorway with Malcolm just behind him. The smile of welcome froze on her face as she noted the file folder held loosely in his hands.
The sinking feeling in her stomach grew as she waited for Malcolm or Adam to speak. She was a nervous wreck and she hated that. This was her domain. The one place in the world that she’d found where she really fit.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
“Ms. Stephens, do you have time to discuss your financial plan with me now?” Malcolm asked.
She wanted to say no. But she wasn’t going to turn away from the olive branch that Malcolm offered. All day long she’d heard from other board members that the decision to keep the school open had to be unanimous, so if Malcolm wasn’t on board by the end of the school year, Tremmel-Bowen would be closed.
“Sure. I was just about to order some dinner, can I get something for you both?”
“We won’t be that long. We can go down to the conference room so we’ll have more room.”
Grace followed Malcolm down the hall. She empathized with him. She would want to shut down the school as well if she were in Malcolm’s shoes. Betrayal. It was one thing she understood better than most.
Adam dropped behind to speak to the night-maintenance supervisor and Grace found herself alone with Malcolm. She explained the shortage error they’d just found and then spent forty-five minutes arguing over the tiniest details in the budget. Grace was careful to keep her temper, but she was beginning to believe it was going to be impossible to convince Malcolm to give the school a reprieve.
In the back of her mind was the fear that all the work that she and Adam had done today would be undone by her story surfacing somewhere. She thought of all the people who’d been in and out of her office throughout the day. She’d had the student council representatives in there and, to be honest, she would be even more horrified if one of them had found the folder than if Adam had.
“Ms. Stephens, if you aren’t going to pay attention you’re just wasting our time.”
“I am paying attention. I don’t see this as a waste of time.”
“I do,” he said. She felt the noose tighten and realized that Malcolm might have given in until the end of semester but beyond that he wasn’t vested in seeing the school survive.
She reached across the table and touched the back of his hand. He glanced up at her. “Yes?”
“What can I say to you?”
He didn’t pretend not to understand her. “Nothing. I’m sorry, Grace. I have a lot of respect for you personally but I can’t get around the fact that this school needs to be closed.”
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Katherine Garbera
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: School headmistress Grace Stephens never thought her private fantasies could become public.But millionaire businessman Adam Bowen was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted. And he wanted Grace to act out every word of the previously secret, suddenly missing steamy love story she′d written all about them.Adam held her future–and every part of her body–in his hands. Leaving Grace no choice but to go from his make-believe mistress to his very real one.