Seduced. Metsy Hingle
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Amanda swallowed. Perhaps it was best this way. If she would no longer be working with Summer, she would no longer be forced to see Michael. And if she didn’t see him, talk to him, maybe these...these feelings he had awakened in her would wane.
Striving for some emotional distance, she tried to make her voice cool. “Very well, then. But if you change your mind and decide you want Summer to see another psychologist, there are several I can recommend.” She reached for her Rolodex file.
Michael caught her wrist. “Dammit, Amanda. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? I’m not interested in another psychologist.”
Amanda stared into his stormy eyes and tried to ignore the effect of his nearness.
“What happened with Summer today is only part of the reason I’m calling the therapy quits. The other reason is us. I want there to be an ‘us.’
“I’m through playing games. Either we see each other as two consenting adults, or we don’t see each other at all.” Releasing her wrist, he cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “What’s it going to be? Yes or no?”
The word no stuck in her throat, lingered on the tip of her tongue.
She couldn’t say it.
She did want to see Michael, to be with him. She’d been drawn to him from the start, had been surprised by the strength of that initial attraction. Even now, she couldn’t explain it. Since her disastrous marriage to Adam, few men had been able to make her pulse race.
Michael Grayson had.
And somewhere along the way those innocent coffees they had shared after her sessions with Summer had turned into something more...something that both frightened and excited her at the same time. Somewhere along the way, she had grown to care for him.
She looked at his handsome face and silently chastised herself. How had she ever believed she could work with him, be with him, and keep her emotional distance? Hadn’t she already proved she was a sucker for his type—a man who came as part of a package deal?
“Well, Amanda?” Michael’s eyes searched hers.
She couldn’t risk another mistake. The last one had cost her far too much. “I’m sorry, Michael. I can’t.”
An odd expression—something that resembled panic—crossed his face; but it disappeared so quickly, Amanda wondered if she’d imagined it.
His jaw hardened. Slowly he pulled back. Walking over to the chair, he picked up his sport coat, hooked it on his finger and slung it across one shoulder.
“Funny, I never pegged you for a coward. Despite all that blue blood and those oh-so-perfect manners, I thought you were a pretty gutsy lady. Guess you’re not quite the woman I thought you were. My mistake.” He started toward the door.
Suddenly she felt confused, unsure of herself. A sinking sensation washed over her at the prospect of him walking out of her life. “Michael, wait!”
He paused at the door and looked back at her.
“I—” She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
His expression wary, Michael retraced his steps across the room. He tossed his jacket on the chair and folded his arms across his chest. And waited.
Nervous, Amanda smoothed the skirt of her suit. Squaring her shoulders, she used all the poise she’d acquired as a diplomat’s daughter to meet his gaze. “You’re right,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “I’ve been using professional ethics as an excuse when my reasons are personal.”
His expression softened. “Whatever it is, we can work it out. Just talk to me. Tell me what it is you’re afraid of.”
He made it sound so simple, but it wasn’t. There were too many risks. Amanda shook her head. “There’s really no point.” Releasing a sigh, she continued. “Try to understand. I never meant for anything to happen between us. I don’t want to become any more involved with you than I already am. I know from past experience that it...that we won’t work.”
Myriad emotions crossed Michael’s face. “You know, you’re not the only one with personal demons, Amanda. Maybe I’m letting some of my own demons cause me to overreact just as you have.”
He sat down on the edge of her desk and toyed with the sleek silver pen that lay beside her appointment book. “Maybe you’re right, maybe pulling Summer out of therapy now isn’t the right thing to do.” His gaze tangled with hers.
“Then you’ll let her stay in the program?”
“I’m willing to discuss the possibility.” He set down the pen. “But later. Right now, I have to get home. I left Summer with a sitter. I didn’t want her sitting in the hall while you and I discussed her.”
Amanda wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. While her head told her to get him out of her life, her heart told her another story. Hooking a length of her hair behind one ear, she opened her appointment book. “When did you want to meet?”
“Friday.”
She flipped the page and frowned. “It’ll take some rescheduling, but I could see you at—”
“Seven o’clock. Over dinner.”
Amanda looked up. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I thought you wanted a chance to convince me to let Summer stay in the program?”
“I do.”
“Then convince me on Friday.” He shot her a slow, sexy smile that Amanda knew was meant to ease the tension, but didn’t. “Come on. It’s only dinner.”
He was right. It was only dinner, she told herself. How much harm could there be in having dinner? “All right. Where should I meet you?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“Michael, I don’t think—”
“Try not to think so much,” he said, leaning forward. “Sometimes it’s better to just let yourself feel.”
Gently he brushed his lips against hers. The contact was light, tender, a nonthreatening kiss. Yet the feel of his mouth, warm and firm against her own, sparked a fire inside her that seeped to her core.
Stifling the urge to pull her into his arms, Michael lifted his head. He looked into her brown eyes, all soft and dreamy, and checked the need to taste her lips again.
Slowly her dazed expression began to fade. “About Friday,” she whispered.
He caught the note of doubt in her voice and refused to give her a chance to change her mind. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something casual.” Easing off the desk, he retrieved his jacket and slipped out the door.
Standing outside the office, Michael drew a steadying breath. For a moment he’d been sure he’d blown it. He hadn’t meant to issue her an ultimatum; and he certainly hadn’t meant to kiss her. But the sight of that pretty pink mouth telling him no again, shooting holes in all his plans, had been too much.
As he headed for the exit, his thoughts were filled with Amanda. A slow burning began in the lower part of his body as he recalled the warmth of her lips, the sweet hesitation of her response.
He stepped out into the waning sunlight and started for the parking lot. He’d enjoyed that kiss—a lot more than he had bargained for. And for a few crazy moments he’d been tempted to shelve his plans.
He couldn’t. Too much was at stake.
Frowning, Michael slipped inside the black sedan and removed the letter from his coat pocket. As he scanned the legal jargon once more, he thought back to that day six weeks ago when he’d decided to take his attorney’s advice.
Find yourself a wife, Dave had said. Summer needs