Make-Believe Mistress

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.”