pleasure?
Keeping his nose to the grindstone was ingrained in him.
He’d always wanted to be a financial success and his strong work ethic had
propelled him to the top in record time.
He’d soon learned success didn’t mean squat with nobody to
share it with. He was tired of eating alone, staying alone in hotel rooms,
having no one to come home to.
He settled in the backseat of his car, miserable. Dinner
with Cadence had been wonderful. He’d broken through her shell. She revealed to
him who she really was, a desirable woman. Not the phony Norman Rockwell
daughter who could do no wrong.
They could’ve had the night—a mind-blowing, sensual
adventure—together if only he hadn’t been so damned focused on this London
deal.
“Office?” Frank asked.
He didn’t miss Frank’s scowl of disapproval. Preston shook
his head. He lived in a world of hopeless romantics. “Yeah.”
“She’s a dish,” Frank said. “If you don’t mind me calling
‘em like I see ‘em.”
“You’re such a connoisseur of women,” Preston replied
bitterly.
Frank grunted and laid on the horn. The yellow cab in front
of them swerved into the next lane just in time to avoid being rear-ended.
“Too bad your work is your mistress,” Frank said with his
usual candor.
Preston looked out the window. He had totally blown his
first date with the woman he’d loved for years, no pretending otherwise.
He opened his BlackBerry and found the phone number for the
Michelangelo. He punched in the number and listened to the ring. The hotel
operator answered.
Preston identified himself and asked her to call Cadence’s
room. The phone rang ten times. No answer.
“I’m sorry but Miss Burke isn’t available,” the operator
said. “Would you care to leave a message?”
“No thanks.” Preston terminated the call and turned off his
cell. Either she was already asleep or she was mad at him. He hoped it was the
former but he wouldn’t blame her if she was pissed.
“I can turn around and take you back to Miss Burke’s hotel,”
Frank said.
“She’s gone to bed. I don’t want to wake her.”
“Suit yourself.”
Preston sat back. He couldn’t shake the blues. He’d left her
for a business call. He wouldn’t again if she gave him a second chance.
* * * * *
Cadence woke with a start, sat straight up in bed and pushed
her hair from her face. She looked down at her wrinkled clothes and blinked.
The digital clock on the nightstand glowed 6:09 a.m.
She had slept straight through the night. What sweet dreams.
She fell back against the down pillows. The memories of yesterday came flooding
back. Preston Night. What had he done to her?
His steamy kisses had put her in a better frame of mind,
that was for sure. How amazing they’d found each other after all these years.
She couldn’t wait to see him this morning.
She stretched her arms and sighed. He’d been so gentle when
explaining the circumstances of her mother’s trust. The secrets. The lies.
Mother must’ve been so unhappy. And her father. He’d kept his affair with
Victoria a secret to protect himself from a scandal. She hated what they’d done
to each other as much as she hated what they’d done to her.
She wished Preston didn’t work so hard. When did he sleep?
He had to keep all of his offices across the world afloat. Of course, she was
somewhat of a workaholic herself. She laughed, realizing how old habits died
hard. They would have to teach each other how to relax and enjoy the moment.
She looked at the clock again.
6:17.
She jumped up from the bed and went to the bar to grab a
Diet Coke, not having time to wait around for coffee to brew. Taking a big
gulp, she ran to her suitcase to pick out something to wear for the meeting
with Preston’s mother. She wanted to look presentable. She should’ve brought
more clothes but who could’ve predicted the chain of events that sent her life
topsy-turvy in the last couple days?
The only clean outfit she had was a
Keeping his nose to the grindstone was ingrained in him.
He’d always wanted to be a financial success and his strong work ethic had
propelled him to the top in record time.
He’d soon learned success didn’t mean squat with nobody to
share it with. He was tired of eating alone, staying alone in hotel rooms,
having no one to come home to.
He settled in the backseat of his car, miserable. Dinner
with Cadence had been wonderful. He’d broken through her shell. She revealed to
him who she really was, a desirable woman. Not the phony Norman Rockwell
daughter who could do no wrong.
They could’ve had the night—a mind-blowing, sensual
adventure—together if only he hadn’t been so damned focused on this London
deal.
“Office?” Frank asked.
He didn’t miss Frank’s scowl of disapproval. Preston shook
his head. He lived in a world of hopeless romantics. “Yeah.”
“She’s a dish,” Frank said. “If you don’t mind me calling
‘em like I see ‘em.”
“You’re such a connoisseur of women,” Preston replied
bitterly.
Frank grunted and laid on the horn. The yellow cab in front
of them swerved into the next lane just in time to avoid being rear-ended.
“Too bad your work is your mistress,” Frank said with his
usual candor.
Preston looked out the window. He had totally blown his
first date with the woman he’d loved for years, no pretending otherwise.
He opened his BlackBerry and found the phone number for the
Michelangelo. He punched in the number and listened to the ring. The hotel
operator answered.
Preston identified himself and asked her to call Cadence’s
room. The phone rang ten times. No answer.
“I’m sorry but Miss Burke isn’t available,” the operator
said. “Would you care to leave a message?”
“No thanks.” Preston terminated the call and turned off his
cell. Either she was already asleep or she was mad at him. He hoped it was the
former but he wouldn’t blame her if she was pissed.
“I can turn around and take you back to Miss Burke’s hotel,”
Frank said.
“She’s gone to bed. I don’t want to wake her.”
“Suit yourself.”
Preston sat back. He couldn’t shake the blues. He’d left her
for a business call. He wouldn’t again if she gave him a second chance.
* * * * *
Cadence woke with a start, sat straight up in bed and pushed
her hair from her face. She looked down at her wrinkled clothes and blinked.
The digital clock on the nightstand glowed 6:09 a.m.
She had slept straight through the night. What sweet dreams.
She fell back against the down pillows. The memories of yesterday came flooding
back. Preston Night. What had he done to her?
His steamy kisses had put her in a better frame of mind,
that was for sure. How amazing they’d found each other after all these years.
She couldn’t wait to see him this morning.
She stretched her arms and sighed. He’d been so gentle when
explaining the circumstances of her mother’s trust. The secrets. The lies.
Mother must’ve been so unhappy. And her father. He’d kept his affair with
Victoria a secret to protect himself from a scandal. She hated what they’d done
to each other as much as she hated what they’d done to her.
She wished Preston didn’t work so hard. When did he sleep?
He had to keep all of his offices across the world afloat. Of course, she was
somewhat of a workaholic herself. She laughed, realizing how old habits died
hard. They would have to teach each other how to relax and enjoy the moment.
She looked at the clock again.
6:17.
She jumped up from the bed and went to the bar to grab a
Diet Coke, not having time to wait around for coffee to brew. Taking a big
gulp, she ran to her suitcase to pick out something to wear for the meeting
with Preston’s mother. She wanted to look presentable. She should’ve brought
more clothes but who could’ve predicted the chain of events that sent her life
topsy-turvy in the last couple days?
The only clean outfit she had was a
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