More Than a Mistress. Leanne Banks

you might have some, or you just don’t know who they are?”

      Sara debated sharing any of her background with Daniel. It wasn’t something she was proud of. She rarely discussed her past. Then again, it would show the contrast in their upbringing. Maybe Daniel would draw the logical conclusion that they weren’t suited, and his interest would wane. The thought brought relief and a certain, unwelcome uneasiness.

      Pushing away the uneasiness, Sara went ahead. “I didn’t have the same kind of family life you did—and still have.”

      Daniel shrugged. “Most people don’t have six brothers and one sister.”

      “No. I mean, my mother was what we now call a single parent.”

      Continuing to study her, he took a sip of beer. “Like Erin,” he said.

      “Not quite.” What an understatement. Erin Lindsey loved her son. She would lay down her life before she gave up her child. Sara hesitated, feeling her appetite wane. “My mother didn’t have time to care for a child. She was busy with other things.”

      “Like?”

      “Men.”

      Daniel was raising his glass to his mouth but stopped midmovement. There was a wealth of emotion in that one word—men. He noticed that she’d tensed up again, and he wondered who Sara blamed, her mother or the men. He saw the turbulence in her eyes and felt a corresponding ripple within him. “Bet that was tough.”

      Sara searched his features, expecting to see disdain or disapproval. She found neither. “It was when I lived with her.” Unpleasant memories swam from the back of her mind. “And sometimes when I didn’t.”

      “You lived with other relatives sometimes?”

      She shook her head. The other relatives hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. Bad breeding, they’d said. And, in some ways, she thought, feeling a twist in her stomach, they’d been right. She blinked away the thoughts. “Foster homes.”

      “What about your dad?”

      Sara stared at the table. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Saying it out loud only made it worse. “I’ve never met him.”

      A hint of vulnerability showed in her voice. It grabbed at his gut and pulled. She wasn’t whining or cursing, yet, despite her composure, a little hurt and shame came through. He wasn’t immune to it. Daniel cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

      Surprised, Sara looked up, but instead of the censure she’d expected, she found empathy. His simple words touched a vulnerable place inside her, one she kept hidden. She didn’t know what to say.

      “It’s disappointing when your parents don’t turn out the way you think they should.” He rubbed the condensation on his glass. “It’s the kind of disappointment that can stick with you a long time even if you don’t want it to.”

      He spoke as if he had some experience with the same kind of disappointment, she thought. It made him seem more human to her, more likable, and made her feel a tenuous connection with him. It also made her wonder what his disappointments were. She toyed with asking him until she saw the expression on his face change from intent to teasing.

      As if he realized the serious tone of their discussion had gone on long enough, he whispered to her in a conspiratorial tone, “Speaking of things that stick with you, we’d better eat these ribs before they get cold. Carly will give me hell if I don’t make sure you get fed. She’s scared you’re gonna realize your true potential and leave her flat.”

      Sara stared at him, and a smile unfurled on her lips. “Why in the world would she think I’m going to leave her?”

      “She said you can run Matilda’s Dream without her.”

      A flush of pleasure stole over her, overshadowing their previous discussion. “I have no intention of leaving—”

      Daniel gave her plate a meaningful glance. “Then do me a favor and eat.”

      Sara saw through his obvious maneuver to bring a happier mood to the meal. She should have been immune to his exaggeration, but, Lord help her, it felt great to have a good man teasing her. She saw the tempered desire in his eyes and felt adrenaline rush through her. Sara shook her head in skepticism at her roller-coaster feelings and took a bite of rib. “If you were so concerned about feeding me, then why did you eat my onion loaf?”

      With a completely straight face he said, “I won that onion loaf by guessing your weight. It was my duty to eat it.”

      Sara laughed. “Duty!”

      “When you’re the oldest of eight, you learn very quickly that some duties are more desirable than others.”

      “You must have been a trial for your parents.”

      “According to my mother, I was perfect.”

      Sara rolled her eyes and delicately licked one of her fingers. “Spoken like a first child.”

      Daniel watched, fascinated by the sensuality of the small movement. Throughout the meal he’d gotten the impression that occasionally Sara indulged herself, and the way she indulged herself with food was sexy. She didn’t mind the messiness. As a matter of fact she seemed to revel in it.

      She took another bite of ribs and slowly ran the slick, pink tip of her tongue over her upper lip.

      Daniel’s gut tightened.

      Sara stopped. “Is something wrong?”

      Yes, Daniel thought. Something was wrong. He wished they were alone so that he could taste that erotic mouth of hers and find out if she was as sweet and spicy as he suspected. He found himself wishing for a lot of things when he was around her. Sara made him feel…deprived. He cleared his throat. “You missed a little sauce on the left.”

      Sara lifted her napkin and wiped her mouth. “Here?”

      He shook his head. “No.” Giving in to his need, he leaned forward and touched her mouth with his thumb.

      Sara went completely still. His gaze, she noted, was fixed with mesmerizing intent on her mouth, as if he couldn’t have torn his attention from her if he’d wanted to. He rubbed gently and should have moved away then. Instead his thumb moved from one side of her mouth and back.

      Sara held her breath.

      Daniel lifted his gaze to meet hers and pressed his thumb into the center of her lips.

      A kiss.

      She felt it and instinctively pursed her mouth against him.

      His eyes flared, and he pressed a little farther, his thumb invading the soft moistness of her inner lips.

      Surprised by his unexpected boldness, Sara felt a sensual twisting deep inside her coiling tighter and tighter. Masculine hunger was there on his face, something she hadn’t expected from Daniel. What she’d expected even less was her own overwhelming fascination with him. Shocking, intimate images floated through her mind.

      Sara closed her eyes against them. She moved to dampen her suddenly dry lips and instead tasted his flesh.

      Daniel swore.

      Mortified, Sara instantly pulled back, but the tension between them held her like a chain. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring and shaking her head. “I don’t know—”

      “Hey, Daniel,” a male voice called, “we’ve been looking all over for you. I thought you were gonna eat lunch with Carly.”

      Troy stopped at the table.

      Sara jerked her gaze from Daniel and cleared her throat. She took a deep breath and looked up to see not only Troy but also Jarod. She forced a smile. “Hi.”

      Troy and Jarod greeted her, then Troy slid beside Daniel, and Jarod sat beside her.

      “I thought you two were doing maintenance on the