Seduced (16 page)

Amanda gasped as he filled her emptiness.

“I'm sorry, love. I meant to go slow,” he managed to say through labored breaths. But he'd wanted her too badly, loved her too much, and he'd been unable to slow his body's urgent rhythm.

“Don't stop,” she cried when he started to withdraw. She wrapped her arms around him, urging him faster, deeper.

Michael thrust into her, driving them to the edge of the storm. Caught in the rush of sensations, she lifted her hips to meet his as the waves engulfed her.

“Amanda.” He called out her name and plunged into her a final time. Arching her body to meet his, Amanda followed him heart-first into the eye of the storm.

* * *

By the time the two of them sat down to dinner, the chicken was cold and the spaghetti tasted like rubber.

Not that Michael seemed to notice.

She studied him from across the table. He ate the meal with the same intensity and thoroughness that he made love, she thought. A tiny shiver went through her as Amanda watched the hands and mouth that had given her such pleasure.

“That was delicious,” he said, pushing back from the table.

Amanda blinked and pulled her thoughts back to the present. “It would have been if we'd eaten it earlier.”

He shot her a wicked grin. “I'm not complaining.”

“Neither am I,” Amanda said, returning his smile. Their lovemaking
had
been wonderful. She'd never considered herself a sensuous creature, but Michael made her feel like one. Even now, just looking at him—sitting there in only his slacks, his dark hair all mussed from her fingers, his eyes smoky and hooded, she could feel desire stir in the pit of her stomach once again.

Michael stood and her gaze drifted to the dark V of hair that disappeared inside his unbuttoned slacks. Amanda's mouth went dry.

“Since you cooked, why don't I clean the kitchen?” Michael picked up his plate.

Amanda shook her head to clear it, then quickly came to her feet. “I'll take care of these. You sit down and relax. I'll only be a minute.” She took the plate from him and carried it into the kitchen. She turned on the water. “How about some dessert?” she called out as she rinsed the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher.

“Sounds good.”

“It'll just take me a second to put on some coffee and I have this great strawberry shor—” Amanda drew in her breath as Michael slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him. Her hands stilled under the running water. Squeezing her eyes shut, she delighted in the feel of his hardness pressed against her.

Michael nuzzled her neck while he untied the belt of her robe. As the sash fell to her feet, the folds of silk parted, leaving her naked to his touch. He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Amanda shuddered.

“I had something else in mind for dessert,” he murmured huskily as his hand cupped her breast before moving slowly down her stomach and then between her thighs.

His fingers teased her, tormented her, until Amanda thought she would scream. When he slipped one finger inside her and stroked her sensitized flesh, Amanda held her breath.

The silverware fell from her fingers, clattering loudly in the sink as the first ripple of pleasure hit her. Knees weak, Amanda gripped the edge of the basin as wave after wave of sensation rolled over her, the warmth flowing like honey from her secret place.

Reaching across her, Michael shut off the faucet, then turned Amanda around to face him. He slid one arm beneath her knees and picked her up. “Why don't we finish the rest of our meal in bed?”

Still in a sensual fog, she curled her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs.

Once inside her bedroom, Michael used one hand to pull back the comforter covering the brass bed while he continued to hold her. Gently he placed her on the bed, then stepped back.

Unable to find her voice, Amanda held out her arms to him.

Michael's eyes smoldered, burned her with the hunger she read in them. Still he made no motion to accept what she was so clearly offering.

“Tell me what you want, Amanda,” he said, his voice thick, husky with desire.

“You,” she whispered. “I want you.”

Groaning, he stripped away his slacks and briefs in one swift movement and joined her on the bed. He sculpted her body with his hands, drawing her arms above her head, capturing both of her hands in one of his. “Say it again. Tell me you want me,” he repeated.

Beads of perspiration broke out across his brow and Amanda realized what his restraint was costing him, what it was costing her.

“I want you, Michael,” she whispered. “I want to feel you inside me. All of you—now.”

She didn't have to ask him again.

He moved between her thighs, buried himself inside her, filling her with his hardness, his warmth, his burning need.

Amanda arched her body beneath his, striving to match his rhythm as she moved closer and closer toward the source of his heat. Just when she thought she could take no more, a new tide of pleasure flooded her, hurling her headfirst into a whirlwind of sensation. Clutching his shoulders, she cried out his name.

Seconds later Michael followed her into the vortex, calling out her name before his own body collapsed atop her.

By the time her heart rate had returned to normal, Amanda could feel the smile stealing over his lips as he cradled her body against him and drifted off to sleep.

He was still smiling when Amanda opened her eyes several hours later and found Michael lying in bed beside her, propped up on one elbow, watching her. “Morning,” he said, brushing his lips against hers.

“Morning.” She stretched and suddenly became aware of sore muscles. “What time is it?”

“Early. The sun's not even up yet.” He swept a strand of hair away from her eyes.

Amanda yawned. She glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. The hands pointed to a few minutes past five. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Watching you sleep,” he said softly.

“That can't be any fun.”

“Quite the contrary. I like watching you.” He caressed her cheek. “And I especially like waking up to you.”

At the serious note in his voice, Amanda looked into his eyes. But instead of the desire she expected to find, she saw what looked like determination.

Determination?
The thought made her nervous and she pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts.

“In fact, I was thinking that I wouldn't mind waking up to you every morning. In fact, I think I'd like it—very much.”

Telling herself she was being foolish, Amanda tried to shake her uneasiness. “Sure. That's what you say now, but before you know it, you'll be complaining I hog the covers.”

“If we were together, you wouldn't need any covers. I'd keep you warm.” To prove his point, he pulled away the sheet and covered her breast with his hand.

The heat from his fingers seemed to burn right through her and she could feel her body quiver. When she looked at his eyes, Amanda's heart fluttered. Trying once more to break the tension, she joked, “That's a tempting offer, Mr. Grayson, but just wait until the first hard freeze hits and—”

“Marry me, Amanda.”

Stunned, Amanda blinked, unable to believe she'd heard him correctly.

“I'm in love with you. I have been for months.”

Was it true? Could he really be in love with her? For herself? She sat up, pulling the sheet over her breasts once again. “Michael, I don't know what to say.”

He smiled at her, his expression hopeful. “How about ‘I love you, too' and ‘yes, I'll marry you, Michael.'”

Amanda didn't know what to say. She couldn't say anything.

At her silence, his smile faded. “Was I wrong in thinking that last night meant something special to you, too?”

“No.” She rushed to assure him, unable to bear the hurt look in his eyes. “You weren't wrong. It's just...I hadn't thought about getting married.”

“Why not? That's what two people usually do when they love each other. Isn't it?”

How could she explain? Make him understand? She loved him, wanted to be with him, but she didn't want marriage. Marriage held too many risks, risks she still wasn't sure she wanted to take—at least, not yet.

“Well, isn't it?” Michael demanded.

“Not always. Marriage isn't for everyone, Michael.” Least of all her. “Some people are better off just having an affair.”

Michael frowned. “Is that what you want, Amanda? An affair?”

He made the word sound dirty, cheap. Deliberately, Amanda tipped her chin up. “Yes.”

“I see.” He paused a moment. “Well, I'm afraid an affair's not good enough—at least, not for me. If that's all I'd wanted, I would have taken you to bed weeks ago.”

She started to protest, but Michael silenced her with a look. “Don't bother denying it. We both know I could have had you anytime I wanted during the past month.”

She didn't deny it because it was true. “Then why didn't you?”

“Because I didn't want just your body and a few meaningless romps between the sheets. I wanted you.”

Amanda's heart pounded. She wanted to believe him. But hadn't Adam told her the same things? Hadn't he sworn that he'd loved and wanted her, too, when all he'd wanted was a mother for his daughter?

“I love you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut against the painful memories. Were Michael's motives any different? After all, there had been the problem with Summer. And what about Martha Winthrop? And her threat of a custody suit?

Does it really matter?
a voice deep inside her asked.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she admitted. She did love him and this time what she felt was a thousand times deeper and more dangerous than what she'd ever felt for Adam. She stared at him, realizing that the risk this time was greater; but then, so were the rewards.

Taking her by the shoulders, Michael gave her a slight shake. “Say it, Amanda.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

He dragged her into his arms and kissed her roughly, deeply, desperately. “And you're going to marry me,” he ordered when he finally released her mouth.

“Yes,” she whispered, knowing she would and praying she wasn't making a mistake.

“You're mine now,” he told her as he stripped away the sheet and cupped her breasts possessively. He pinned her with his eyes. “And as soon as Summer gets back from camp, we're going to make it legal.”

She wanted to protest, to tell him there was no need to rush things. But when his teeth closed over her nipple, she arched forward automatically, winding her fingers through his hair, holding his head to her breast.

Moments later when he moved between her legs, all thoughts of denial faded as she became lost once more in the sensual storm of Michael's lovemaking.

“I
still don't see what the big rush is,” Amanda complained. “Why can't we just be engaged for a while?”

“Because it doesn't make any sense to wait.” After locking the car, Michael took Amanda's hand. Together they started across the school parking lot to join the other parents waiting to pick up their children from summer camp. “Besides,” he said, slanting her a seductive glance that sent shivers up her spine, “I want you in my bed
every
night.”

“You've been in
my
bed every night,” she reminded him.

And her shower, and her couch, and her pool. Even on her kitchen counter. Amanda smiled. Their lovemaking had been hot, spontaneous and wildly passionate since that first night a week ago.

Michael grinned. “I know. And I've enjoyed every minute of it, too.” Stopping a few feet from where the other parents were gathered, Michael kissed the tip of her nose. “But Summer coming home changes things.”

“I know,” Amanda said, sighing. It meant that Michael would no longer be staying overnight. And she was going to miss him. In addition to the wonderful lovemaking, she'd quickly grown accustomed to waking up with him beside her.

“I warned you I wasn't big on patience. And where you're concerned I have even less. I have no intention of spending one more night away from you than I have to.”

Amanda's heart tripped a little faster, as it always did when Michael looked at her with such hunger in his eyes. She felt as though she were in a wonderful dream and she didn't ever want to wake up. Never in her life had she been the object of such love, such desire. Knowing that she was made her feel light-headed.

“So it's settled. We get married next week like we planned. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed as they joined the others at the edge of the school walkway.

She had to stop being foolish and quit waiting for the ax to fall, Amanda told herself. She loved Michael and he loved her. And they were going to be married. At least this time she was being married for herself.

“Amanda. Michael.” Sister Mary Grace waved. Excusing herself from another couple, she made her way over to them.

“Hello, Sister.” Michael shook her hand. “It's good to see you again.”

“It's nice to see you, too. Here to pick up Summer?”

“Yes, we are.”

Amanda gave her friend a hug. “I called you at the convent last week, but they told me you were on retreat.”

“I was. I just got back this morning.”

“How are you?” Amanda asked the tiny nun.

“I'm fine. And I don't need to ask how you are. You look wonderful.”

“Thanks. I feel pretty wonderful,” Amanda admitted, acknowledging that a large measure of her newfound happiness was due to Michael.

“Well, it certainly shows.” Sister Mary Grace smiled, then shifted her attention to Michael. “You're looking pretty chipper yourself, Mr. Grayson.”

“That's because I'm feeling pretty chipper, Sister.” Michael slipped his arm around Amanda's shoulders and gave her a look filled with warmth and love. “Amanda and I are getting married.”

Sister Mary Grace beamed. She clasped her hands together. “Why, that's wonderful news. Congratulations.” She hugged them both.

“Amanda and I would like it very much if you would come to the wedding, Sister. It's not going to be very big. Just Summer, a few close friends and you, if you can make it.”

“I'd be honored, Michael. Thank you for asking me. When's the big day?”

“Next Saturday at two,” he informed her.

Sister Mary Grace lifted her brow, her surprise evident. “You certainly don't waste any time, do you?”

“Can't afford to. Not with this lady.” Michael hugged Amanda a little closer. “Getting her to fall in love with me took quite a bit of work and I don't mind telling you, it was one tough battle. But, fortunately, my strategy paid off.”

He smiled, obviously pleased with himself. “Anyway, once she agreed to marry me, I decided the smartest thing I could do was get a ring on her finger before she had a chance to change her mind.”

“I knew you were a smart man,” Sister Mary Grace said, laughing.

Amanda sniffed, not exactly thrilled to have her friend and the man she loved discussing the winning of her heart as though it were a battle. “He's not all that smart or he wouldn't be bragging about his strategy. After all, we're not married yet.”

Michael's smile faltered. “Amanda, love, I didn't mean anything... That is, I was only joking with the Sister.”

Amanda immediately regretted her flip comeback. She couldn't bear to see the look of doubt on his face. “I know.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda spied the big yellow school bus turning into the lot. “Come on, Mr. Strategy. There's Summer's bus now.”

“We'll be in touch about the wedding,” Michael told her. He reached for Amanda's hand. “Right now, there's a little girl we're going to make very happy when we tell her she's got a wedding to help us plan.”

Happy didn't even begin to describe Summer's reaction. She was ecstatic. “Do I get to call you Aunt Amanda now?” she asked over dinner that evening.

“If you'd like. Or you can just call me Amanda. It's up to you.”

Summer paused for a moment and tilted her head. “I heard Sister Mary Grace call you Mandy once. I like that name. Can I call you Aunt Mandy?”

Amanda laughed, her heart swelling at the child's obvious happiness about their news. “Of course.”

“Are we going to have a big wedding?” Summer asked before biting into her hamburger.

“Nope. Just you, Mr. Dave, Sister Mary Grace and a few other friends,” Michael replied.

“What about Aunt Mandy's family?”

“Amanda's parents are out of the country right now.”

“They can't be here for the wedding,” Amanda explained, a little sad that her parents wouldn't be able to share her happiness. “But they're going to come visit us at the end of the summer when they get back to the States.”

Michael reached for Amanda's hand and squeezed it. “Do you mind that they can't be here? I know I insisted on getting married next week, but if it's important to you that your parents be here—”

“It's not,” she said, touched by his sensitivity. “Knowing you love me is what's important.”

“I do,” he assured her, kissing her knuckles. The love shone in his eyes.

“When you and Uncle Mike get married, does that mean your mom and dad will be my family, too?” Summer asked.

“Yes,” Amanda said, smiling as she turned her attention back to Summer. “They'll be your great-aunt and uncle.”

“Oh.” Summer picked up a french fry and dipped it in catsup. “I wish they could be my grandparents. Michelle has grandparents. She gets to stay over at their house sometimes, and they bring her back presents when they go on trips.”

Amanda's heart twisted at the longing in Summer's voice. “You know, Summer, my parents have always wanted grandchildren. I bet they would love for you to call them Grandma and Grandpa.”

“That's a great idea,” Michael added.

Amanda glanced over at Michael, disturbed by how anxious he sounded.

“But they wouldn't really be my grandparents, would they?”

“No,” Amanda admitted. “But I bet they'd be very happy if you thought of them as though they were. I just know they're going to love you.”

“If I could find my real grandmother, I bet she would love me, too.”

Michael set down his fork. His face pulled into a frown. “Summer, let's not start that again.”

“But, Uncle Mike, if I could find my grandmother—”

Michael pushed back his chair and stood. “That's enough! I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense.”

Summer folded her arms across her chest. Her head dropped.

Sighing, Michael came around the table and knelt beside his niece. “Honey, your mom made me your guardian because I was her only relative and she entrusted you to me. Maybe someday Amanda and I'll be lucky and have children. Then you'll have some cousins. But right now, you're going to have to settle for us. We're the only family you've got.”

Amanda's heart ached for them both. If only Michael would relent about Martha. She swallowed and went to crouch next to the child. “We love you, Summer.”

Summer looked up at Amanda, her eyes brimming with tears. “And I love you. Both of you.”

“We want you to be happy, honey,” Michael told her. “Do you think you can be happy with us?”

Summer flung one arm around her uncle's neck and the other around Amanda's. “Yes,” she whispered. “I'll be happy. I promise.”

Even though the rest of the evening was pleasant enough, the day had lost its sparkle. Amanda tucked Summer into bed and kissed her good-night.

It just wasn't fair, Amanda thought. No matter what had happened in the past, Summer deserved to at least know she had a grandmother. Somehow she had to convince Michael of that.

“Michael,” she said while cuddled with him a short time later in front of the television.

“Hmm?” He clicked the button on the remote control device, switching the channel to the ten o'clock news.

“I think you're making a mistake by not telling Summer about Martha.”

“There's nothing to tell,” he said dismissively.

“You know that's not true. What if Summer finds out that her grandmother wanted to see her and you forbade it?”

Michael stiffened. “She won't find out. No one even knows about her connection to Martha except you and Dave. Dave won't say anything. And you gave me your word you wouldn't tell her either.”

“And I won't. But I think you should.”

Michael removed his arm from around her. “Look, Amanda, I don't want to argue with you about this.”

Amanda sighed. “Michael, if I didn't think it was so important, I'd drop it. But you know how much it means to Summer to have a family. You're not being fair to her.”

“I'm doing what's best for her. She'd be better off without any relatives than to claim Martha Winthrop as her grandmother.”

“Your hate and bitterness for the Winthrops is making you blind. And foolish. Suppose Martha decides to sue for custody, after all? What if by some chance she should win?” Amanda couldn't finish, too afraid to put into words the possibility that Martha might keep Summer from them just as Michael was now keeping the child from her.

The muscle in Michael's jaw ticked wildly. Something flashed in his eyes and then that steely look of determination was back. “Trust me. Martha doesn't stand a chance of getting custody of Summer.”

His expression was as hard as granite. It was the same look she'd seen the night he'd insisted she marry him. “This war between me and the Winthrops has been going on for a long time, but it's going to be over soon. And when it is, I promise you, I'm going to be the winner.”

It was there again—that cold confidence. It made her uneasy. “How can you be so sure?”

“I told you, I'm a good strategist. And I have the element of surprise on my side.” Looking into her eyes, Michael eased Amanda down onto the couch and stretched his body over hers. “Now, enough talk about Martha Winthrop. I haven't had a real kiss in hours.”

Amanda slipped her arms around his neck and as her body responded to his touch, her uneasiness started to fade.

He slipped his hands beneath her blouse and cupped her breasts. “Heaven help me. I don't know how I'm going to get through the night, let alone the next week without you,” he whispered before lowering his head.

Amanda arched her body toward him as his mouth and hands worked their magic. Soon, Martha Winthrop and custody battles were the last thing on her mind as Amanda lost herself in the pleasure of his love.

* * *

“Hi,” Amanda greeted Summer as she let herself into the house with the key Michael had given her.

“Hi, Aunt Mandy.”

Amanda dropped the boxes of books and photographs she'd brought from her house onto the floor and flopped down onto the couch. “It's an oven out there,” Amanda complained, wiping beads of perspiration from her brow. As much as she loved New Orleans, the heat and humidity were stifling.

“What's all that stuff?” Summer asked, already peeking inside the cartons.

“Just a few things I didn't want to send to storage.” Because of her house's small size, she and Michael had decided the only sensible thing to do would be for her to move into his house until they could find a place to buy together. “Where's your uncle?”

“In the study on the phone,” Summer said, flipping through a photo album she'd unearthed from one of the boxes.

“Would you be a sweetheart and put these boxes upstairs for me while I tell him I'm here?”

“Sure.” Picking up one of the lightweight cartons, Summer headed for the stairs.

Amanda moved down the hall, stopping outside Michael's study. With the door ajar and Michael standing with his back to her, she took a moment to look at the man she loved. She still couldn't believe in two days' time they would be husband and wife.

“I know that,” Michael snapped. He shoved a hand through his hair.

Amanda smiled at the familiar gesture, thinking how much she enjoyed running her fingers through that head of dark hair.

“Well, reschedule it, then.” Michael paced the length of his desk. “Dammit, Dave. I'm getting married day after tomorrow and I don't want this hanging over my head.”

Barely registering his words, Amanda concentrated on how tanned his skin was against the white of his shirt where he'd opened the collar and rolled up his sleeves. She smiled, knowing firsthand that Michael's tan extended over every inch of him.

“Tomorrow at ten? Hold on. Let me check my schedule.” He turned then and saw her; and the harsh lines of his face softened. “Hi—” he covered the receiver with one hand “—I'll be through here in a second.”