MrTemptation (3 page)

“If you’d like to take a seat,” the woman said with a
perfunctory smile.

Cadence nodded. She felt dull in her jeans skirt and white
linen blouse but the outfit was all she’d packed extra for her weekend in the
city. She sat in a comfortable upholstered chair in a leather and chrome
waiting room, thrumming her fingers on the cold metal.

The name on the card her father’s former partner had given
her was Night and Night, International. Cadence remembered the name. Maryanne
Night had been her grandfather’s attorney and one of her mother’s dearest
friends. She’d been capable, confident and Mother’s treasure.

When Mother died, Mrs. Night was no longer retained by the
family. For some reason, she never knew why, Father hired a new attorney to
handle his business. Her father’s former partner had enough confidence in Mrs.
Night’s skills to recommend Cadence contact her. Cadence was confident Maryanne
Night would help her.

“Care for a cup of cappuccino?” the receptionist asked,
peering around the door.

Cadence declined. Her stomach cramped every time she thought
about her conversation yesterday with Victoria and the twins. Coffee wouldn’t
help.

After a short wait, the receptionist reappeared. “Mr. Night
will see you now.”

“Mr. Night? I thought my appointment was with Mrs. Night?”

“I’m afraid Mrs. Night is in court this morning.”

“But I specifically asked for Mrs. Night.”

“Would you like to reschedule?”

“No, my business can’t wait,” she said as she fidgeted with
the top button on her blouse.

“I assure you, Mr. Night is a full partner.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s good at his profession, only Mrs. Night
was a friend of my mother.”

“I see. You’d be more comfortable with her.”

“I guess.” She exhaled.

“Come on, I’ll show you to his office.”

Constance stood. “I hadn’t realized Anne Night was married.”

The woman laughed. “Preston Night is her son.”

She couldn’t remember Anne having a son either. “I’m sure
he’ll be okay,” she said, sounding doubtful without meaning to.

The receptionist ushered Cadence into a tasteful but
sparsely furnished office. More black and chrome, a picture by David Hopper on
the wall above a file cabinet disguised as a credenza. A Persian carpet on the
floor.

Mr. Preston Night wasn’t there.

“Take a seat. He’ll be right along.” The receptionist turned
and left.

Cadence looked around. The obviously masculine room didn’t
suit her. She much preferred the excesses of the Renaissance, the opulent style
and colors of the Mediterranean palette. She liked the vitality of Italian
shapes, their largesse, their flaunting of the conventional. Such joy for life
appealed to her like an embrace.

She sat on a leather chair and flipped through the arts
section of
The Times
but couldn’t concentrate on any of the articles.
She picked up the business section. The page fell open to a picture of her
father. He’d been a handsome man. Her parents had made a stunningly beautiful
couple. Everyone had said so.

The article talked about the mayor’s legacy. Victoria and
her children were prominently featured. With outrage, Cadence slapped the
magazine shut and slung it onto the table. The publicity machine was grinding
out the perfect family crap that the public loved.

Cadence crossed her arms and brooded. How dare Victoria
claim the limelight.

The thud of shoes on hardwood pulled her from her mental
slamming of the trio of evil and what she could do to spoil Cyrus’ chances of
entering public life.

Cadence happened to look up at just the right moment.
Wow.
Striding into the room was a young version of James Bond and he looked as if he
had just stepped out of a photo shoot for
GQ
magazine.

Seriously.

She sucked in her breath as she stared into a pair of
heavily lidded, mossy-green eyes. Eyes that were rimmed with dark lashes any
woman would be jealous of. Eyes that seemed to strip her bare. Cadence shivered
with the sudden thought of standing there naked for him to peruse. Her nipples
peaked and between her thighs she grew slick. What the hell was wrong with her?
She’d never reacted to a man like this before…

And yet, part of her liked it. Part of her wished she were
nude for his perusal. She chewed her lower lip, imagining he was the one
nibbling on the sensitive flesh.

As if he too imagined such a thing, he ran his tongue over
his lower lip and swept his gaze from her eyes down to the tip of her toes and
back. As if she weren’t already overly aware of him, a sudden pull clenched in
her womb.

She wanted him to want her. She wanted to go home with him
and do
things
with him. Dirty things.

His light hair, expertly cut, was in deep contrast to the
tan on his chiseled-from-stone face.

The rugged persona seemed at odds with his expensive Italian
suit. Armani, she guessed, although she wasn’t an expert. He carried a black
leather Burberry briefcase, which he set on the floor.

She ogled not so much the luxurious Armani, which was
impeccably designed and perfectly fitted, but the body beneath the suit. His
body looked hard, muscled, cut.

He must work out
, she mused.
A lot
.

She’d like to see him in jeans and a T-shirt. She loved the
way a nice cut of jeans could hug a man’s ass—and even better, his manhood. And
God, what would he look like in a swimsuit? She let a picture of him on the
beach in nothing but a pair of swim trunks linger in her mind. Maybe she would
grow bold enough to shimmy up to his swimsuited self and strip him down to the
flesh.

“Excuse me? Miss Burke?” he asked.

Cadence was physically taken aback by his voice. So strong.
So commanding. Her hand fluttered to her chest. She swallowed hard. The way his
eyes bored into hers, she could almost swear he knew her naughty thoughts.

She could feel the power coiled within him as he leaned over
her to shake her hand. A whisper of his aftershave caressed her senses. Spice,
sandalwood and definitely man.

“Um…yes,” she stammered. She sprang to her feet so he
wouldn’t have to look down at her. “I am Cadence Burke.”

“Preston Night.” His dazzling smile showed off perfectly
straight, white teeth.

Cadence gripped his hand, returning his smile, feeling a
flush creep its way up her neck and over her cheeks.

One, two, three…

His grip was strong and her hand, which was by no means
petite, looked tiny in comparison to his. She couldn’t believe this turn in
luck. He wasn’t a fantasy, a fashion model who’d just stepped out of magazine,
and he was a lawyer, her lawyer. God, if he knew what she’d been thinking…

Without fail, her eyes trailed to his crotch before she
quickly whipped them back to his face.

He smiled, which only made her face feel hotter. “Please sit
down, Miss Burke.”

He released her and the blood surged back into her fingers.
It was the strangest sensation to have for a man she’d just met.

He held a chair for her, a gesture she found terribly
old-fashioned and yet she loved his consideration. She sat down, her heart
beating wildly.

She smiled to hide her nerves and smoothed her riotous hair.
Wouldn’t you know it—the day she met the man of her dreams, she looked like
she’d been electrocuted.

“We’ve met before,” he said, taking a seat next to her. He
crossed his legs and a hint of a smile lifted his lips.

Cadence searched the rest of his face, trying to remember.
Where had she seen that face before?

“The receptionist told me you’re Mrs. Night’s son.”

“I am.”

“Now I remember. You’re all grown up.” She’d like to cringe,
she sounded so lame. Obviously, he was grown up.

“We both are.”

Cadence couldn’t have felt more awkward.

He picked up his briefcase and set it on the table in front
of them. Without exchanging any polite chatter, such as how have you been or
what have you been up to all these years, he opened his case and took out a
thick manila file.

“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” she said,
“although I was expecting to talk with your mother.”

He cocked a brow. “Didn’t Muriel explain?”

“Yes, she told me your mother was in court this morning.”

“Unfortunately, she is. She asked me to help you.”

Cadence realized she’d given the wrong impression. “I’m sure
your mother left my case in good hands.” Yikes! Could she be more obvious?

“Night and Night is at your service.”

What a perfectly nice thing to say. She took a moment to
compose her thoughts so she didn’t sound like a complete ditz.

“I remember your mother. She was always very nice to me. How
is she?”

“Doing well.”

Cadence met his gaze. “Good.”

Those green eyes lingered on her face and then he shifted
his gaze to his briefcase. “I had a chance to speak with her before she left.
She had a file on your family.”

She gulped. “You have a file?”

“My mother took care of your mother’s trust. I assumed you
knew.”

“I did. I became co-trustee when I turned twenty-one. We
always used one of my father’s attorneys.”

“This firm’s involvement is outside of the trust.”

Hot damn! Her mother had provided for her. She was close to
jumping in his lap and giving him a hug.

“Miss Burke…”

“Please call me Cadence. Your mom was practically family
once.” She offered him a smile.

He didn’t return it. He was strictly business and to the
point. “Okay, Cadence, then I insist that you call me Preston.”

“Deal,” she said, feeling more at ease and stifling, with
difficulty, the growing heat within her. He was quite possibly the most
attractive man she had ever met. She hadn’t realized men like him actually
existed.

“So why don’t you explain why you called me,” he said,
bluntly.

She started to speak, she’d a speech rehearsed, but her
mouth had gone terribly dry.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

“Water with lemon would be fine,” she said, rasping her
words.

He jumped to his feet and went to the open door. “Muriel,
two waters with lemon, please.”

He unbuttoned his jacket and sat down again. He opened the
manila file and began reading while they waited.

The receptionist appeared carrying two glasses. She set them
on the table.

Cadence couldn’t help but notice, with a totally ridiculous
feeling of possessiveness, how the receptionist stared at Preston more than
necessary.

And why am I jealous? I just met this man
.

Muriel left without a word.

Cadence picked up the cold glass and gulped down some water.

Preston stood and went to his desk. He opened a drawer and
took out a pad of yellow paper and a pen. He motioned for her to start.

Her composure restored along with some self-control, she got
back to business.

“You know my mother was at the World Trade Center on 9/11?”
she said. Her story always seemed to start with that day in September.

“Yes.” There was a flash of emotion in his eyes, of caring,
of sadness, maybe even pity. She’d seen them all before.

“The mayor, my father, remarried a widow with two children.”

“I’ve seen their pictures in the newspapers,” he said,
taking the chair beside her.

“I’ve been living in New Haven for the last couple of years,
working on my PhD in art history. I don’t come into the city very often,
especially since my father remarried.”

Preston scribbled on the pad. He gave nothing away in his
expression.
Bet he plays a good game of poker
, she mused.

“I turn twenty-six in June. I was expecting my share of
Father’s estate as was stipulated in his will.” She opened her handbag and took
out the manila envelope Victoria had given her. She handed it to him.

He turned the pages of the documents. “You are to inherit
when you turn twenty-six?”

“So I believed. I just graduated yesterday and my stepmother
had a party for friends and family to celebrate.” She reflected on that as she
watched the condensation run down the glass. Victoria had used the occasion to
showcase what a devoted mother she was while sticking a knife in Cadence’s
throat the second the last guest left.

Cadence left this bit out of her narrative. It felt
unnatural to confess family squabbles to a stranger. And unwise. Being the
daughter of a politician had taught her to be wary about what she said and to
whom, and to always wear a smile.

Hadn’t her father always warned her to show a happy face to
the public no matter what?

“That’s when I found out the mayor wrote a second will and
I’d been cut out.” She looked up and smiled but it took a great deal of effort.
Preston Night didn’t even flicker an eyelid. What was up with him?

She gave him a minute to read.

When he looked up, his mouth was set in a thin line. His
gaze was gentle, reassuring.

He gave her confidence that Victoria wouldn’t get away with
this.

“My stepmother claims I’m to be left with nothing, which is
news to me,” she continued, wanting him to know how badly she’d been
blindsided. “Father didn’t have much money of his own. At least I don’t think
so.” Cadence shook her head. “I’m finding out, Mr. Night, that there are a
great many things I don’t know about my father’s finances.”

“I understand.”

Cadence was happy he was on her side and she had him to
confide in.

“Mother’s family was a success in the rag trade and he
inherited a fortune when she died. Victoria, my stepmom, had been the mayor’s
press secretary and a very good one as far as anybody could tell. Naturally, it
caused a stir when they married so soon after my mother died.”

At this, Preston nodded and Cadence realized that was when
his mother had left as an employee. Or had she been dismissed?