Seduced
“Did you? Ever say or do something you shouldn’t have?” Michael asked.
“Not unless you count the time I asked one of the Arab emirs why he needed three wives. Of course, I was only seven at the time,” Amanda said, grinning.
Michael laughed, the sound rich and full of life. Then slowly the smile slipped from his lips. His deep blue eyes moved over her face like a caress. “I bet you were a beauty even then.”
“Hardly. I had skinny legs and two missing front teeth,” she quipped, unnerved by the sudden tension. “Anyway, I became good at studying people. When it was time for me to go to college, I decided to major in psychology. Gracie—Sister Mary Grace,” she amended, “was one of my teachers. Since I liked working with kids, she encouraged me to specialize in child psychology.”
Michael reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I, for one, am glad you followed her advice.”
Warmed by his approval, Amanda studied him under the soft light. His hair, a dark, rich ebony, fell at an angle across his forehead and brushed the back collar of his shirt. Struck by the urge to smooth it with her fingertips, she shifted her gaze to his face.
At the look in his eyes, her pulse quickened. It had been a long time since any man had looked at her with such desire. And even longer, she admitted, since she had felt any response.
Shaken, Amanda pulled her hand free as the waiter served their salads.
“Since you like kids so much, I’m surprised you don’t have any of your own.”
Amanda’s chest tightened. She had wanted children, had been thrilled to gain a stepdaughter when she’d married Adam. She had even hoped to fill their home with more children. But that had been before she’d discovered Adam’s secret, before she’d suffered the humiliation of his deception. “Things don’t always work out the way we plan,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“No, they don’t.” An odd expression crossed his face, then quickly disappeared. “Do you see much of your ex-husband’s daughter since the divorce?”
“Kimberly and I—” Amanda paused, her fork in midair. “How did you know I had a stepdaughter?”
“Sister Mary Grace mentioned it.”
Surprised, Amanda set down her fork. She narrowed her eyes. “Why on earth would she do that?”
Michael shrugged. “I was asking her about you and I guess it sort of came up in the conversation.”
“I see,” Amanda said, growing irritated. Dear friend or not, she wished she could get her hands around Gracie’s neck.
“Don’t be upset with Sister. I was the one asking the questions.”
“Did it ever occur to you to ask me?”
“I did,” he said, a slight edge in his voice. “But if you’ll recall, you weren’t exactly forthcoming.”
“So you decided to ask Sister Mary Grace?”
“Yes,” he replied evenly. “I told you, I believe in going after what I want.”
And he wanted her, Amanda finished silently. “What else did the dear Sister tell you?” she asked, too annoyed by the thought of him learning the details of her personal life to keep the sarcasm from her voice.
“That you’ve been divorced about eighteen months, are disgusted with men in general, and that if my interest in you is genuine, I should be prepared for a tough battle.” Michael flashed her a disarming grin. “She also said it was going to take a lot more than a handsome face and sexy smile to break through that Boston reserve of yours.”
Amanda wanted to crawl under the table. “I can’t believe she said that. She’s a nun for heaven’s sake.”
“Yeah. Surprised me, too. I think she was trying to scare me off.” Michael chuckled and shot her a considering look. “But as you can see, I don’t frighten easily.”
“Obviously,” Amanda said, feeling exposed and vulnerable, and hating it.
“All I wanted was to get to know you better,” he said gently. “I never meant to upset you.”
“I’m not upset, just embarrassed.” His sincerity touched her.
“There’s no need to be.” He gave her a disarming smile. “What do you say we call a truce and enjoy dinner? I promise Antonio’s manicotti is the best in the city.”
Amanda nodded her acquiesence.
Three hours later she was glad she had agreed to the truce. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much in one evening—or had so much fun. And playing putt-putt, no less.
Smiling, Amanda leaned her head back against the seat of the car and listened to the soft melody playing on the radio as they headed for her home.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Michael offered.
She shifted her gaze to him. “Only a penny?” she teased, feeling lighthearted. “The way you were trying to get me to bet on the outcome of that last game, I would have thought you were a much bigger gambler.”
Michael chuckled. The sound was warm, intimate, inside the confines of the car. “How about a quarter, then?”
Amanda laughed. “Now that’s what I call a big spender.”
Exiting the interstate, Michael pulled the car to a stop at the red light. He turned to Amanda. The smile disappeared from his lips as he reached over and traced his thumb along the line of her jaw. “What’s really going on inside that pretty head of yours?”
“I was thinking about what a nice time I had.” Amanda swallowed, acutely aware of how close he was. In the darkness of the car, with only the dim light of the street lamp, his eyes reminded her of polished gems.
“Glad you came?”
“Yes,” Amanda whispered. “I am.”
“Me, too.” He moved his thumb across her lower lip.
Amanda’s heart pounded as he leaned closer. Frightened, excited, she closed her eyes and lifted her mouth.
A horn sounded behind them and Amanda pulled back.
Muttering, Michael yanked the gear shift, sending the car jerking forward. “Sorry,” he mumbled as they sped down the dark street.
While he maneuvered the car through the city, Amanda studied the strong line of his jaw, the fullness of his mouth. Feelings, long buried, stirred to life inside her. She recalled how those lips had felt—warm and hungry against her own. Realizing where her thoughts had drifted, she turned to stare out the window.
A few minutes later Michael pulled the car to a stop in front of her cottage and shut off the engine.
“Amanda?”
Pulling her gaze from the pink-and-white azaleas that lined the walkway to her home, she looked up. Michael stood in front of her, holding the door open.
Michael held her hand as she stepped out onto the driveway.
After closing the door, he pressed his hand to the small of her back and steered her toward the house.
It was a simple gesture of courtesy. Yet his touch made her nervous, edgy, acutely aware that she was a woman and he was a man. When they stepped into the alcove of her doorway, she wanted to race inside and bolt the door against him and the things he was making her feel.
“I had a great time tonight.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her mouth. His fingertips caressed her cheek. “When can I see you again?”
He was so close, she could see the faint shadow along his jaw that would demand a razor’s edge in the morning. The night seemed to close in around her. The sweet scent of gardenias faded and was replaced with the scent of woods, of earth. Of Michael.
Michael sucked in his breath. “Amanda, don’t look at me like that.”
She looked up and saw her own hunger mirrored in his eyes. “Like what?”
“Like you want me,” he said in a voice husky with desire. Extending his arms on either side of her head, he placed his palms flat against the door, trapping her within his embrace. “Like you want to touch me. Taste me.” His gaze fell to her mouth. “The way I want to touch and taste you.”
Knees weak, Amanda leaned back, grateful for the solid door. As Michael lowered his head, she braced her hands against his chest, intent on pushing him away.
She leaned toward him instead.
And then his mouth touched hers.
His kiss was just as she remembered it. Gentle, coaxing, a slow brushing of lips against lips. He took her bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled, slowly explored its shape with his tongue.
Unable to stop herself, Amanda touched the tip of her tongue to his.
Michael shuddered. His heart beat like a drum against her fingertips and she strained closer. When his tongue began another slow foray of her mouth, Amanda’s control broke. She curled her fingers into his shirt, crumpling the soft cotton in her fists.
When Amanda’s tongue darted into his mouth, Michael thought he would explode. This time there was no hesitancy. This time there was fire; this time there was passion.
He crushed her to him, tangled his fingers in her silky hair.
A whimper escaped her lips, making his body burn anew. Not since he’d been a teenager had he responded so wildly to a kiss. Not since he’d been a young man had he wanted something so much. Never in his life had that something been a woman.
Until now.
This doesn’t mean anything, Amanda told herself as she leaned against him. It was simply a matter of chemistry...of proximity.
It was more than that. And she knew it. Suddenly frightened by the realization, Amanda pushed at his chest.
Easing his hold, Michael drew away slightly. He looked into her eyes, smoky and warm with desire.
“Michael.”
“Shh.” He dropped another kiss on her lips. The sight of Amanda’s beautiful face flushed, her mouth swollen from his kisses, caused his body to ache even more. He pulled her back into his arms.
“No,” she whispered, panic seizing her. Kissing Michael had been insanity on her part. “This was a mistake.”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he insisted, hearing the alarm in her voice and not understanding it. He stroked her hair, wanting to reassure her.
Amanda heard the denial in his voice, saw the yearning in his eyes. She stepped back, out of his arms. Taking a deep breath, she filled her lungs with fresh air, trying to clear her senses. How could she have done this? Let things get so out of hand?
“Don’t push me away, Amanda.”
“Please, Michael. It was just a kiss,” she said, deliberately sounding flip. “Let’s not make it into more than it was.”
Michael stiffened. Just a kiss? He dropped his hands to his sides. It was a hell of a lot more than a simple kiss and they both knew it.
“Thank you for dinner,” she continued primly as though nothing had happened. But Michael heard the slight catch in her voice, saw the tremor of her lips.
“We’ll have to do it again—soon.” He edged a little closer and experienced a small measure of satisfaction at the flash of panic that clouded her brown eyes.
Just as quickly, she schooled her expression and retrieved her keys from her purse.
Michael took them from her fingers. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open.
“Well, thanks again,” she murmured politely.
“Aren’t you going to ask me in for a nightcap?” he baited, irritated with her for denying there was something between them and with himself for caring.
Amanda shot him a look that would, no doubt, quell a lesser man. “No, I’m not,” she said in those crisp, clear tones that had made him peg her as a New Englander the first time he’d met her.
Michael bit down on his anger at her rejection. “Then next time,” he managed.
“There won’t be any next time,” she said, tipping up her chin.
The haughtiness of her tone caused something to snap inside him. Before he could stop himself, Michael reached for her. Cupping the back of her head, he pulled her to him. “I promise you there will be a next time, Amanda. Tonight was only the beginning.”
Three
Amanda glanced at the small, crystal clock sitting on her desk. Four-twenty. The knot in her stomach tightened. Only ten more minutes before Michael arrived.
Unable to concentrate, she closed the file folder she had been studying and, walking across the room, she gazed out the window to the school playground at the dozen or so children who had remained for after-school care.
Hearing a squeal of laughter, Amanda smiled as she spotted Summer—her long, dark braids flying behind her while she raced across the yard engaged in a game of tag.
She wasn’t at all the same child she had been when they had started working together ten weeks ago, Amanda thought. Sad and withdrawn, it had been so heartening to gain the little girl’s trust, to help her sort through her confusion and pain at her mother’s death. Of course, Michael’s love and attention had made her job easier by far.
Michael.
Amanda cursed herself for thinking of him again. It was pointless to think about him.
Instead she focused on Summer’s smiling face, and her heartstrings tugged once more. She was going to miss the child. But there was nothing she could do. And considering the outcome of her last encounter with Michael, perhaps it was for the best. She certainly couldn’t risk another evening like the previous Friday’s.
Amanda touched her lips, recalling all too vividly how that evening had ended. Longing, hot and demanding, flickered through her as she remembered the feel of Michael’s lips, the warmth of his breath, the hardness of his body against her own. Squeezing her eyes shut, she fought back a groan as she recalled her own wanton response.
“Amanda?”
She tensed at the sound of Michael’s voice. She wasn’t ready to face him—not yet, not when the memory of his kiss was so fresh.
“The secretary did say four-thirty, didn’t she?”
Attempting to school her expression, Amanda turned around slowly. “Yes. Please, come in.”
When he closed the door and stepped inside, the room seemed somehow smaller. “You can sit down, if you’d like.” She gestured toward the chair across from her desk.
He cut across the room in swift, easy strides, stopping in front of her. “I tried to reach you all weekend,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers.
“I know. I got your messages.” All five messages. And because the temptation to pick up the telephone and talk to him had been so strong, she had deliberately spent her weekend working in the garden and stalking the city’s shopping centers. She’d tried on clothes she neither needed nor wanted only to return home empty-handed and exhausted. When the calls had persisted, she had taken herself off to a movie.
“Why didn’t you return my calls?”
Amanda met his questioning gaze. “I thought it best not to.”
“Better for whom?” he asked, frowning.
“For me. And possibly for you, too.”
“You’re wrong,” he said, a slight edge in his voice. “On both counts. There’s something good between us, Amanda, and you know it. What are you so afraid of?”
You, she wanted to shout. The things you make me feel, the things you make me want. The risks you make me want to take.
Instead she simply said, “I told you before, my reasons for not going out with you are personal. I have no desire to explain those reasons to you and I doubt that you’d understand them even if I did. The problem is me, Michael—not you. But, believe me, I’m serious when I tell you you’re wasting your time. There can’t ever be anything between us.”
“What about last Friday?” he demanded. “Are you going to tell me it didn’t mean anything to you? That it was nothing?”
“Last Friday was very special.” For a few short hours she had been able to put the past and its painful scars behind her. But despite the explosive chemistry and her growing feelings for him, Michael was still a man with a child—a child very much in need of a mother. She wouldn’t take a chance on being used again.
“I had a lovely time, but it was still a mistake. A relationship with you would mean too many complications and I don’t want or need any more complications in my life. Please accept that.”
“I can’t.” His jaw clenched; a muscle ticked angrily in his cheek. “And I’m not going to let you accept it, either. I won’t let you throw us away, Amanda.”
Amanda tipped up her chin. “You don’t have a choice. I have no intention of going out with you again and now that Summer’s no longer in therapy, there’s no reason for us to see each other at all.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong.” His lips smoothed into a slow, knowing smile. “We will be seeing each other. You see, I’m giving you the two months with Summer that you asked for. I’m not taking her out of your program. In fact, I’ve already told her she can stay. So, you and I will be seeing each other—a lot—at least for the next couple of months.”
“But I thought...” Surprised and unsettled by his change in attitude, Amanda turned away. “When Summer didn’t show up for her appointment yesterday, I assumed you’d withdrawn her from the program.”
“Then you assumed wrong.”
She had been so sure she wouldn’t have to see him again after today. Now she would be faced with not only seeing him but with dealing with the memories and desires he sparked in her.
“Don’t you remember me telling you last week that Summer had a dental appointment and wouldn’t be able to come on Monday?”
Vaguely, Amanda recalled the words, but at the time she’d been so disturbed by the way he’d been looking at her that she had failed to write it down.
“Did you really think I’d just pull her out of the program without telling you first? Especially after you tried so hard to convince me to let her stay?” His voice held a wealth of disappointment.
That was exactly what she had thought. And it had made her decision not to see him again easier somehow.
“You don’t have to bother answering that. It’s obvious what you thought.” He took a deep breath and released it. “For the record, you were right. Summer does need help. Help that I can’t give her. I was a fool to even consider pulling her out of the program. She needs you, Amanda. I need you. Will you help me?”
She wanted to refuse him.
She couldn’t, not when he was looking at her with such warmth in his eyes.
“All right,” Amanda answered, her voice thick. “I’ll keep working with Summer until the end of the school term—but on one condition. We keep our relationship strictly professional. Agreed?”
When he didn’t respond, Amanda gave him a stern look that she usually reserved for the children. “I want your promise, Michael.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t give it to you. If I did, I’d only end up breaking it. And I make it a point never to go back on my word.”
Feeling trapped, Amanda walked back to the window and stared out at the playground. She was committed to Summer and didn’t want to abandon her now. She felt a responsibility to the little girl. But what about herself? Was she strong enough to resist the emotional threat Michael represented?
She sensed him come up behind her, her body suddenly alert at his nearness.
“Amanda?” He touched her shoulder and turned her to face him.
He was so close, she could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne, see the sprinkling of gray at his temples.
“Why are you doing this to us?” His eyes held hers. “Is it because of the things you’ve heard about me? About my family?”
Amanda flushed. “Of course not.”
“Then why won’t you even give us a chance?”
“Amanda?” A quick, one-two tap followed at the door. “Do you still have the fi—” Sister Mary Grace stopped and stared from the doorway. She looked from Amanda to Michael and back again. “Excuse me,” she said, and started to retreat from the room.
“Gra—Sister, wait.” Quickly, Amanda pulled away and moved past Michael. Embarrassed, she could have cringed at the sight they must have made. What must Gracie be thinking after practically catching her in Michael’s arms? “Did you want to see me about something?” she asked, trying to muster as much dignity as she could under the circumstances.
“Nothing that can’t wait until later. I didn’t realize you had someone with you.” Turning toward Michael, she said, “Forgive me for interrupting. You two go ahead and finish your, um, discussion. I can speak to Amanda later.”
“No!” Amanda cried out as Sister Mary Grace started to leave. She swallowed and then continued more calmly, “Mr. Grayson and I are finished. He was just leaving.”
Sister Mary Grace arched one brow; the look she gave Amanda left her with little doubt that the nun didn’t believe her.
“It’s okay, Sister.” Michael moved toward the door. “Amanda’s right. We are finished—for now.”
Amanda caught the warning in his voice, but refused to meet his gaze.
“Sister.” He inclined his head toward the nun, then turned to Amanda. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Amanda repeated, and could have kicked herself at the anxious sound of her voice.
“After Summer’s appointment,” he informed her. “She is still scheduled for Wednesday, isn’t she?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
“See you then.”
Once Michael had closed the door, Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. Returning to her desk, she sat down and directed her attention back to her friend. “Now, what was it you needed?” she asked, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel.
“What was that all about?” Sister Mary Grace asked as she claimed the chair in front of Amanda’s desk.
Ignorning the bright gleam in her friend’s eyes, Amanda returned evenly, “Michael came by to tell me he’s decided to allow Summer to remain in the therapy program.”
“Why, that’s excellent news. I mean, I know he was having some doubts about the program’s effectiveness. I’m glad to see you were able to bring him around.”
Sister Mary Grace adjusted the wire-rimmed spectacles on her nose, then met Amanda’s eyes. “But something tells me his niece isn’t the only reason Michael Grayson came to see you.”
Amanda shot her friend a stony look.
The tiny nun grinned. “Come on, Mandy. The man hasn’t exactly made his interest in you a secret. And I kind of got the impression that you liked him, too.”
“Gracie.” Amanda made no attempt to hide her displeasure.
“I know, I know. I shouldn’t interfere, but you’re my friend. I’m only trying to help.”
“How? By encouraging him? Telling him personal things about me? How could you do that?”
Sister Mary Grace’s smile faded. Her rosy cheeks paled slightly. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
At the nun’s stricken expression, Amanda immediately regretted her flare of temper. “I know you didn’t, and I’m sorry for biting your head off. But don’t you see? Encouraging him was the worst thing you could do.”
“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.”