Seduced

“Why? What’s wrong with a nice, young man showing an interest in you?”

“Everything—if that man’s Michael Grayson. You of all people should know I could never become involved with a man like him.”

Sister Mary Grace frowned. “What do you mean, ‘a man like him’? From everything I’ve seen, and from what you’ve told me yourself, he’s a fine, honorable man.”

“He is. But for someone else. Not me.”

“Any why not you?” Sister Grace asked in that impervious tone that Amanda had always found so frustrating.

“Because he has a child.”

Sister Mary Grace narrowed her eyes. She folded her arms across her chest. “As far as I know, Michael Grayson doesn’t have any children,” she said in that no-nonsense voice of hers. “In fact, according to the information he gave the school when he registered Summer, he’s never even been married.”

“Quit fencing, Gracie. You know perfectly well what I mean. He has Summer.”

“So? She’s his niece.”

“Yes, but for all intents and purposes, she’s his child. He’s the one raising her.”

“And doing a fine job of it, too. So, what’s the problem?”

Frustrated, Amanda glared at her friend. “You know what the problem is. He has a seven-year-old child who needs a mother. You saw what happened in Mrs. Green’s class last week when they started talking about the Mother’s Day project. The poor thing was completely distraught.”

“Yes, I saw. And I also saw how much you care about that little girl. That was a wonderful thing you did, agreeing to go to the Mother Daughter Luncheon with her next month.”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have.” It had been a foolish thing to do, given her own history. But then, it had broken her heart to see Summer so despondent.

Sister Mary Grace patted her hand. “Of course, you should have.”

“I’ve been down this road before, Gracie. I know where it leads and all the traps it can hold. I don’t want to be used again. And I’m not going to put myself in a position where I can be used again—by Michael Grayson or anyone else.”

Sister Mary Grace rose. She came around the desk and put her arms around Amanda’s shoulders. “Mandy, Mandy,” she soothed. “When are you going to stop punishing yourself for someone else’s mistakes?”

“I’m not. I’m protecting myself.”

“That’s a lot of malarkey and you know it. You don’t give yourself or anyone else a chance. You set up obstacles the minute any man shows an interest in you.”

“That’s not true.”

Sister Mary Grace pulled back and looked at Amanda. “Isn’t it?”

Was Gracie right? Was she setting up obstacles? True, Summer did chatter endlessly about getting a new mother someday; but the little girl spoke almost just as often about finding some imaginary grandmother, as well.

On the other hand, Michael had been decidedly quiet on both subjects—even when she had expressed her concern about Summer’s preoccupation with them. In fact, Michael had given no indication that he even thought he needed a wife—let alone was looking for one.

But then, neither had Adam—at least not until after he had courted her, had played to her foolish dreams, had made her believe he loved her, made her fall in love with him. And when it had been too late, when she had married him and moved into his home, she had found out the truth.

Sister Mary Grace’s expression softened. “Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that Michael’s interest in you could be motivated by nothing more than the simple fact that he likes you? You’re a lovely woman, Amanda. Isn’t it just possible, he finds you attractive?”

Remembering the heat in his eyes, the hunger of his kiss, Amanda didn’t doubt that Michael found her attractive. She thought of the way his body had hardened at her response. Not even Adam, master actor that he was, had made her feel so desired, so much like a woman. But then, she had been naive and trusting.

She wasn’t anymore.

“Why not give him the benefit of the doubt? What have you got to lose?”

Everything. Her heart, what was left of her pride. “I can’t, Gracie. There are too many risks involved. And I’m through taking risks.”

“Not even for love?”

“Especially not for love. The price is too high.” And one she was unwilling to pay.

* * *

Propping the telephone between his shoulder and ear, Michael kicked the door to his bedroom shut and listened to the worried voice of his attorney, Dave Jennings.

“Come on, Mike, be reasonable. Let me set up a meeting with old lady Winthrop and her attorney and try to work something out.”

“There’s nothing to work out. I told you, Martha Winthrop gave up any rights she might have had when that son of hers turned his back on my sister. If it hadn’t been for her, Sara never would have run away in the first place. She wouldn’t have been on that damn mountain, wouldn’t have...” His voice broke; he choked back the pain thoughts of his sister’s death caused and hardened his resolve. “I’ll never