MrTemptation

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MrTemptation Page 5

by Annabelle Weston


  If he took her right there in the doorway, she would let him. She nearly groaned at the thought… Her arms splayed wide, her legs even wider as he bent her over, his hands on her hips…

  God! Stop it already!

  He motioned for the receptionist to join them. Muriel came down the hallway, smiling. Preston told the girl he was taking Cadence to her hotel and to call around his car.

  Muriel was only too happy to make that call. She sashayed back to her desk, her crisp linen skirt clinging to every curve.

  Cadence watched with envy and then looked away. She was acting like a jealous teenager and Preston was sure to notice.

  But it had been so…long, she rationalized. She just hadn’t been in the company of an attractive man in a while, at least one who wasn’t already spoken for, and boy was Preston Night an attractive man.

  Here I go again. Deep breaths, deep breaths. One, two, three…

  They took the elevator to the ground floor. Preston stood a step ahead of her, which gave her the opportunity to check him out more closely. He was athletic, like a thoroughbred. His jacket covered a lean butt, encased in perfectly cut trousers. His shoulders were wide. She wanted to run her hand across his back and feel his muscles ripple beneath her fingers.

  She was getting randy without any effort. She welcomed the change. It almost made up for what she’d learned about her sham of a family. She was going to have a lot of fun spending the money and wouldn’t give a thought to what all those lies had cost.

  Thinking about them burst her bubble.

  Preston Night might be hot but he was also a consummate professional. A girl her age didn’t fall apart at the seams over a little flirty attention.

  The bell pinged and the elevator door opened. Whatever she had dreamed might happen on the ride down didn’t happen.

  A girl can fantasize, she mused. Perhaps her first purchase ought to be a vibrator. At least that way she could hopefully get all this raging lust out of her body.

  They waited in the foyer. A sleek, black Escalade pulled up to the curb. A uniformed man opened the door for them.

  Preston introduced her to his driver. “This is Frank.”

  Frank was tall and broad-shouldered. Probably doubled as a bodyguard, she decided. The thought thrilled her. Did Preston lead a life of danger and intrigue? Probably not. He specialized in estates and trusts.

  Besides, James Bond didn’t need a bodyguard, did he?

  “Hello, Frank,” she said.

  Frank tipped his cap and bowed slightly.

  Cadence hadn’t expected this display of old-fashioned courtesy.

  “Frank is practicing his softer side,” Preston explained.

  Frank cracked a smile.

  Preston held out his arm. “Ladies first.”

  What a gentleman. Cadence flashed him a smile of appreciation and as she brushed past him, their bodies touched ever so slightly. She shuddered at that subtle contact. Yes, a vibrator was the first thing she needed to purchase indeed.

  Preston climbed in after her and they settled on two spacious leather seats in the back. His leg pressed against her thigh. He was hard, warm. She chewed her lip and tried to shift away.

  “Where would you like to go?” Preston ran his hands over his thighs, smoothing his pants, but that act only seemed to draw her attention to his legs all the more.

  She squeezed her thighs closed, hoping to stop the tension coiling in her core. She folded her arms over her chest, causing her bra to rub against her nipples in delicious friction.

  “The Michelangelo Hotel.” She gave Frank the address. Would Preston ask to come inside? Should she invite him? If he stepped foot in her hotel room, all bets were off. She couldn’t take it. She wanted him—bad.

  “Really?” Preston said. “I would have thought you’d prefer something more like the Waldorf or the Four Seasons.”

  “Up ’til now, I haven’t been able to afford a luxury hotel,” she said.

  “I can change your reservation with a phone call.”

  “Don’t bother. The Michelangelo is my kind of place. I love the historical feel. My degree is in the Italian Renaissance and so I try to stay surrounded by as much history as possible to keep my muse going.”

  Did she sound flaky? Would he understand about muses?

  “That’s a smart idea,” Preston said as they pulled away from the curb.

  He was really too good to be true, she decided. There had to be something wrong. He was a player, no doubt. They’d barely touched and she was already on the verge of stripping naked and fucking his brains out.

  “What do you plan to do now that you’ve graduated?” he asked.

  “Ah…the infamous question,” she said with a distracted laugh. She was glad he was talking about something more serious. Hopefully that would get her mind off sex. “I’ve been working on applications for grant money.”

  “Now that you’re mega-rich, money won’t be an issue anymore.” He ran his hand through his hair. Hair that looked soft. She wanted to stroke her own hands through it.

  “No, I guess not. I plan to travel as much as possible and to write. I love writing about artists.” She couldn’t help erupting into a genuine smile. Now her dreams could become a reality.

  “That’s great that you’ve found something you truly enjoy doing. It’s rare.”

  She sat back against the cool leather. They were making small talk, something she hadn’t expected from him. Perhaps there was a lot more than met the eye with Preston. She knew he had to be intelligent to be in the line of work he was. Beyond that, she’d thought of him as a ladies’ man, actually hoped he was so she could invite him to ease the lustful ache in her center.

  “Are you happy with your job?” she asked, wondering if the question was too personal.

  “Me? Sure.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  He turned away for a second and then met her gaze. “Being a lawyer was something my mother wanted for me so I went about the motions. I’d like to live abroad someday so I changed my area of expertise to international business law and I’ve been able to do quite a bit of pond hopping. I recently opened an office in Paris and last year Night and Night started an office in London. I’m working on getting into China and possibly one in another European country, maybe Italy.” He shrugged, dismissing his effort or his ambition, she wasn’t quite sure which, as inconsequential.

  “Sounds like you’re busy,” Cadence said, impressed. “You must be on the go all the time.”

  “Yes, we have been overworked at Night and Night lately. It’s been pretty stressful.”

  She realized she was taking up his valuable time but he had volunteered to escort her back to her hotel. Why was he doing this? She didn’t want to be another notch in his bedpost…and yet she couldn’t stop the images of the two of them, legs entangled, from worming its way into her mind.

  “I’m sorry to take you away from your work.”

  “We have a lot of capable employees working for us and a lot of people that I trust. Trust is important,” he said and made a point of looking at her.

  She caught his meaning and nodded. “It is.” There’d been a moment when she hadn’t trusted him, believed his kindness and consideration had been an act. She was glad to have been proven wrong. He might not be on the up-and-up with relationships but she could tell he was interested in her for more than just business.

  They arrived at the hotel in Midtown and the familiar place brought a new sense of calm, like meeting a friend who shared the same interests. Frank pulled right up to the no-parking zone. The bellman hurried to the curb and opened the back door.

  “Thank you for the ride, Preston. I appreciate all you’ve done for me today and all that you will do for me in the coming days.” She gave him one of her best smiles. She wasn’t pretending.

  He smiled back. There was mischief in his smile.

  She decided to take the plunge. “Are you free for dinner? I hate eating alone. Unless you’re too
busy.”

  She mentally cringed. She hadn’t wanted to put him on the spot.

  His hand brushed against hers. She wasn’t sure if it was intentional but the touch of his skin gave her goose bumps. She curled her fingers into a fist and bit the inside of her cheek.

  He smiled. “I know a restaurant that you might like.”

  “Nothing too fancy?”

  “Not at all but the food is great.”

  She tucked a curl behind her ear. “Pick me up at seven?”

  “You heard her, Frank?”

  “Seven it is,” Frank replied.

  Cadence climbed out of the car. The bellboy tipped his hat. She walked into the hotel without looking back but she knew Preston was staring after her.

  What am I doing? Flirting with my lawyer? Inviting him to dinner? They both knew what she’d been offering for dessert. What a crazy idea. Good one, Cadence.

  But she didn’t really care if they were breaking some kind of rule. It had been so long since she had experienced the exhilaration of being with an interesting man. So what if he was her lawyer and they were supposed to be all about business and contracts? She wasn’t looking for a relationship.

  She just wanted to feel good for a change.

  And have really awesome sex.

  Preston couldn’t take his eyes off the retreating figure of Cadence Burke. She had a tight body and her ass swayed seductively from side to side as she walked. Damn, she was gorgeous. But he wasn’t just attracted to her hot body or the sultry looks she kept slinging his way, it was her, the whole package.

  What she’d learned this morning about her family would’ve put anyone off her game. Yet Cadence walked with her head held high and a sway to her hips that only a blind man would be able to resist.

  Yeah, she’s coming on to me.

  He would take full advantage of the invitation.

  She’d surprised him when she agreed to go with him to dinner. He’d thought of asking her but had dismissed it as too soon. He’d wanted to give her time for the bad news to sink in and allow her some privacy. Apparently, Cadence hadn’t been as gutted by what she’d learned as he’d thought.

  He told Frank to take him back to the office and pulled out his BlackBerry. He had some calls to make, the first one to a reserve a table at one of his favorite restaurants.

  His mother always frowned on him seeing clients outside the office. She wouldn’t like him seeing Cadence Burke, whose case had to be handled with care. He’d never do anything to hurt Cadence. That was always his bottom line in any relationship.

  Cadence disappeared into the hotel, his last glimpse her ass in that tight skirt as the door closed behind her. She was a stunner. Her big baby blues appealed to him in all the fundamental ways. Her lips begged to be kissed.

  Perhaps he would add a post-dinner interlude at an expensive hotel. Dessert was on him.

  He could only imagine what she would look like underneath him, what type of panties he’d be peeling back.

  He arrived at the office hot and bothered. He needed to concentrate on work. Would Mom be happy about selling Sparkle Industries? What kind of price could Cadence get for the business?

  He’d make some calls, set the wheels in motion.

  And spend the rest of the day thinking about Cadence Burke’s very nice ass.

  Chapter Four

  Cadence entered the lobby, the familiar surroundings of the Michelangelo a balm to her jagged nerves. She always came here when she was in the city because it reminded her of happier days. Today the small boutique hotel was her sanctuary.

  The first time she’d stayed here, her mother had brought her after working a fashion shoot. Cadence had tagged along for fun. Because the shoot had ended so late, they had splurged and gotten a room for the night.

  Ever since then, she and her mother had made the Michelangelo their special place. It’d been a good spot to escape after shopping or a show.

  Even after her mother passed away, Cadence had kept up the tradition. None of her friends understood why. There were finer hotels. There were trendier hotels. How could she explain? The funky little hotel kept her muse alive. Especially now.

  Amazingly, Preston Night had understood.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Burke,” the hotel concierge said. It was wonderful how the people in the hotel knew who she was and called her by name.

  Oh my God, is it afternoon already? She’d taken up Preston’s entire morning without meaning to.

  “Good afternoon, Melody.”

  She looked closer at Melody’s tattoo of a butterfly on her neck. Maybe she should get one of those? Or a belly ring? Wouldn’t the mayor have shat cats if she’d shown up with one of those at one of his fund-raising events? The only body parts she’d been allowed to have pierced were her ears for the modest pearl studs he’d given her to go with her mother’s pearls.

  Melody picked up an envelope. “This letter came while you were out.”

  Cadence took the letter. It’d been no secret where she was staying. Her name had been scribbled on the outside. She opened the envelope and took out a single sheet of paper.

  “I’d like to get together with you. I’ll pick you up at eight. C.”

  The initial sent pain searing across her already throbbing temples.

  “Do you remember who delivered this message?” Cadence asked.

  “Sure. He was tall, had blue eyes and…”

  “Flaming red hair?”

  Melody nodded. “The reddest I’ve ever seen.”

  “Cyrus.” Cadence crumbled the letter into a ball. “Great. Just great.”

  “I’m sorry,” Melody said. “He told me he was your brother.”

  “He was,” Cadence said, “but he isn’t any longer.”

  Melody was trained well enough not to ask the customer personal questions but her confusion was evident in her expression.

  “Would you put this in the trash?” Cadence said, scooting the wad of paper her way.

  “Of course.” She deposited the wad in a circular file. “Would you care to leave a reply?”

  If only getting rid of Cyrus and his unwanted attention were that easy. She grimaced. “I guess I’d better.”

  Melody took a fresh sheet of hotel stationary from underneath the counter.

  Cadence grabbed a pen and wrote, “No thanks, I’m busy.” She folded the letter and handed it to Melody. “Sending an email won’t keep him from coming over.”

  “I’ll make sure he receives this.”

  How she’d loved to tell Cyrus about her fortune. Her lips were sealed forever. She wasn’t about to share thirty-seven million with him or his mother.

  Cyrus was her past and she’d no intention of seeing him again. Tonight was reserved for her and Preston. They would celebrate in some cozy restaurant and salute the future.

  “I’d like a bottle of champagne sent to my room. The good kind, from France.”

  Melody looked relieved. “Celebrating?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you like some lunch as well?”

  “No, just champagne.” She’d no appetite but champagne sounded right.

  She headed for the elevator, feeling frisky despite her headache. The elevator opened, dark and dated, and she punched the button for her floor.

  An hour ago her bank account had been too anemic for her to afford necessities. Now she was ordering champagne in the middle of the day. She was rich. Being rich was definitely better than being strapped for cash.

  She found her room card in her cavernous handbag. The elevator stopped with a ping and she headed out, thinking about how wonderful it was that she could splurge on a glass of champagne, take a nice, long bath and maybe even a nap.

  For the first time in a long time, she would spend the afternoon relaxing, followed by a scrumptious dinner with a very attractive man.

  She sighed as she looked about her room, which had already been made up. There’d be no interruptions or delays. Standing in the large sitting room, she too
k off her blouse and skirt and haphazardly threw them on the Italian loveseat covered in gold velvet. She went into the bathroom and turned on the water to fill the large, tantalizing Jacuzzi tub.

  A sharp knock on the door drew her attention away from the tub. She grabbed a robe from the hook on the bathroom door and slipped into it.

  She opened the door. A college-aged guy cradled a bottle of bubbly in a silver cooler filled with crushed ice.

  “Perfect,” she said and asked him to open the bottle.

  He eased the cork out. “Is there anything else?”

  She shook her head. “Not just now.” She found her wallet and fished out a tip. She could afford to be generous.

  The guy’s grin confirmed it.

  She poured herself a glass and took a sip. The bubbles tickled her throat.

  Cadence emptied the glass and put it down next to the bottle. Her headache started to subside. All the weird stuff she’d learned this morning felt as if it’d happened to someone else.

  The Jacuzzi tub was calling her name. She sashayed, just as Preston’s receptionist had done, into the bathroom and turned off the tap. All the muscles in her body ached for the warmth of the inviting, hot water.

  Stripping off her bathrobe, she sang an Elton John hit as she stepped into the bath and sank down under the water.

  “Tiny dancer…” She exhaled and closed her eyes.

  She hadn’t realized how much she needed a break. The past forty-eight hours had been such a drag. She needed relaxation. She needed pampering. She needed more champagne.

  The tightness in her muscles eased and her headache disappeared. A smile crept onto her face as the pain and the stress melted away. She’d become a lady of leisure. It was about time.

  She reran the conversation she’d had with Preston. She’d gone on and on about her issues and he’d listened. What a luxury to have someone she could confide in completely.

  The someone was a deliciously hot man. Of course, she’d been forward, asking him to dinner, and she hadn’t meant a business dinner. He’d only accepted because she was a client and he would do what she asked. She poked a bubble and it burst.

 

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