Seduced

His gaze skimmed the length of her and suddenly Amanda felt as though her tailored lemon suit was much too daring.

Dismissing her reaction as foolish, Amanda tipped up her chin. “If you’ll come with me, Mr. Grayson, I’ll show you in to Sister Mary Grace.” Without waiting for his response, she turned and started toward the principal’s office.

To Amanda, the few yards to Gracie’s office seemed like a mile with him walking behind her. She could almost feel his eyes trained on her back, watching her movements. She tapped on the door.

“I didn’t catch your name, Miss...”

Amanda turned to look at him and swallowed when she found him so close. She fought the urge to step back. “Bennett. Amanda Bennett,” she said, her voice more breathless than she would have liked.

“Come in,” Gracie called out.

Relieved at the prospect of putting distance between them, Amanda opened the door and entered the room. Michael followed.

“Mr. Grayson.” The tiny nun came bustling from behind her desk, a flurry of energy in a religious habit.

“Sister.” Michael shook her hand.

“I see you’ve already met Amanda,” Sister Mary Grace said.

“Yes, I have.” Cutting a glance to her, Michael smiled.

The simple movement of his lips—slight though it was— softened the harsh lines of his face, warmed the coolness of those blue eyes. Amanda’s pulse skittered in response.

“And of course, you know Mrs. Green.” Sister Mary Grace gestured toward the woman seated in front of the desk.

Michael’s smile dissolved immediately. “Mrs. Green.”

Yes, Amanda decided, confirming her initial impression. Michael Grayson was definitely going to be difficult. She could only hope that if he loved his niece as much as Gracie seemed to think he did, he would listen to reason.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Sister Mary Grace motioned to the chair beside Mrs. Green’s. When the nun had resumed her own seat, Amanda slipped into the chair adjacent to the desk so that she could observe him.

“I know how busy you are, and I appreciate your coming so quickly,” Sister Mary Grace began. “I wish all of our parents were as responsive as you.”

“Anything concerning my niece is important to me, Sister. What seems to be the problem?”

“The problem, Mr. Grayson, is that your niece insists on disrupting my class,” Frances Green informed him.

“Frances, please,” Sister Mary Grace admonished.

Michael narrowed his eyes. “And just how did she manage to disrupt your class this time, Mrs. Green?”

His voice was soft. Too soft, Amanda thought, noting the rigid line of his jaw.

“Well, for starters, she pretended to go into a trance in the middle of my lesson, and then she—”

“A trance?” Michael repeated.

“Not a trance,” Amanda corrected, noting the way his fingers had tightened around the arms of the chair. “She was meditating.”

“Call it whatever you like,” Frances Green countered, her too thin shoulders stiff with indignation. “All I know is the child kept staring off into space, pretending she couldn’t hear me.”

Michael gritted his teeth. He hadn’t thought it possible to dislike the sour-faced teacher more, but he did. “Maybe she didn’t hear you,” Michael offered. He certainly wouldn’t blame Summer if she had pretended not to hear the woman.

“Oh, she could hear me, all right. Why, if it hadn’t been for Amanda...”

Amanda?

Michael moved his gaze from Mrs. Green to the blonde, trying once more to place her name and face among those staff members he’d met at the last PTA meeting. He took in the waterfall of blond hair, the trim waist and long legs. She had great legs, he thought, unable to resist looking at them again. No, Amanda Bennett hadn’t been at the PTA meeting. If she had, he would certainly have remembered her.

“...And that awful humming sound she kept making,” Mrs. Green continued.

“Mantras,” Amanda explained.

He caught the New England accent again and his curiosity escalated another notch.

“Whatever,” Mrs. Green said. “All I know is that it gave me goose bumps.”

Pulling his attention back to Mrs. Green, Michael half listened as the woman droned on. He’d heard a similar tale last week when Summer had brought the talisman to school.

Frustrated, Michael wanted to demand once again that Summer be transferred to another class. But any such demand was pointless. Frances Green was the only religion teacher for the third grade. And if he wanted Summer to remain at Saint Margaret’s—and he did—she had to take the class.

“As I’ve explained to Sister Mary Grace, I have nothing against your niece, Mr. Grayson. But these disruptions she’s causing are affecting the other students.”

“I’ll speak to Summer, Mrs. Green. You have my word, it won’t happen again,” he assured her, biting back his frustration for Summer’s sake.

“Thank you, Frances,” Sister Mary Grace said. “You can return to your students now.”

The birdlike woman stood primly. “Thank you, Sister. Amanda.” She inclined her head toward him. “Mr. Grayson.”

Michael nodded, still too irritated by the woman’s lack of empathy to even speak. Didn’t she realize what Summer had been through? The death of her mother? The adjustments she had had to make? He swallowed. Hell, he still hadn’t gotten over the loss of his sister. And he wasn’t a vulnerable seven-year-old. He glared at the teacher’s retreating back.

“Don’t be too hard on Frances,” Sister Mary Grace said after the woman had left the room. “She really is an excellent teacher, and she cares about her students.”

“I’m sure you’d be a better judge of that than I would, Sister. At any rate, I’m sorry about what happened today. It’s my fault for allowing Summer to continue the meditation at home. Obviously that was a mistake. One that I intend to rectify.”

Amanda looked at Sister Mary Grace, then back at Michael. “Forgive me, Mr. Grayson. I realize this isn’t any of my concern, but given Summer’s background, do you think it’s wise to discourage her from meditating?”

“You’re right, Miss Bennett. It isn’t any of your concern.”

He heard the nun draw in a sharp breath and Michael realized he’d gone too far. But before he could apologize, Amanda was shooting back.

“That may be, but considering all that she’s been through and the adjustments she’s having to make, your taking a hard line on her meditation now could prove damaging.”

“You seem to know a great deal about my niece, Miss Bennett,” he said, suspicious.

“She and I spent some time together after this morning’s incident. We talked for a while.”

“I see,” he said in a voice that was deliberately calm. He didn’t like the idea of Summer being questioned by anyone, particularly about her background. Questions had a way of leading to more questions. And some questions were best left unanswered. “And based on a few minutes of conversation, you think you’re in a better position to judge what’s right for my niece than I am?”