MrTemptation by Annabelle Weston Page A

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