MrTemptation (23 page)

She sat on the edge of the bed. Googling the name had come
up with a dozen McClains in Edinburgh. She’d punched in numbers on her cell
phone of every one of them. No one claimed to know him. She left her cell
number just in case their memories suddenly improved.

Why did everyone lie to her?

She took out the copies of the trust Maryanne Night had made
for her. In the envelope was her parents’ marriage certificate. The church was
in a town she’d never heard of. She’d go there and find out what the people of
that town knew.

She was packing when the phone rang. She didn’t want it to
be Preston. She didn’t want to argue with him anymore.

She answered.

“Hi, sis.”

“Cyrus. I asked you not to call me that.”

He laughed but his wasn’t a pleasant laugh. “You’ve been
avoiding me.”

“Do you think?”

She would get so much enjoyment telling the slimeball off
but she’d something more important to do.

“While you’re in the city…”

“I won’t be much longer. You can tell Victoria I’ll be out
of the condo by the end of the week and I’ll mail her my keys.”

“No kidding? What’s the catch?”

Cadence exhaled. He didn’t trust her. “No catch. I don’t need
the condo anymore.”

“Come into some money, have you?”

For a split second, she feared he’d guessed the truth. If he
found out about the money, he’d find out about all the rest. She’d promised
Auntie Anne that she would protect her mother’s reputation.

She had to think fast. “Yeah, a grant from the university to
continue my research on Italian art. Not enough for you to go after.”

“There’s no reason to be nasty,” Cyrus said. “All I’m
looking for is some family unity. You were the media darling when the mayor was
alive. I could use your help. I’m going to run for mayor.”

“Not going to happen,” she said, “so leave me alone.”

“I could make it worth your while.”

She tried not to gag. “If you come near me again, I’ll file
for a restraining order.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds you are an asshole. Wouldn’t that look great
as a headline?”

She hung up before Cyrus could reply.

The balls of that guy
, she thought as she slammed her
suitcase shut and zipped it closed.

The phone rang again. Cyrus was getting on her nerves.

“Seriously. What part of
leave me alone
don’t you
understand?” she shouted.

“Hello?” A man answered in a deep brogue.

With a rush of blood to the brain, Cadence collapsed on the
bed. The voice captured her complete attention and she clutched the phone with
both hands.

“Who is this?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“My name is James Fyffe. I’m a solicitor here in Edinburgh.
Am I speaking to Miss Cadence Burke?”

“Yes.” Cadence’s hands were sweating.

“I represent Mr. Bryce McClain. I understand you are looking
for him?”

Did the solicitor know why? She had to assume he did and yet
she couldn’t be sure.

“I am. It’s vitally important that I contact him.” She
fought to keep her voice from breaking.

“Indeed,” Mr. Fyffe said. “If you’ll give me one moment please.”

She heard voices in the background. Instructions. Was Bryce
McClain there? She took calming breaths.

“Hello?” The voice was deep and masculine. She could hear
the person breathing. “Is anyone there?”

“Yes, I’m Cadence Burke. I’d like to speak to Bryce
McClain.”

“This is Bryce McClain.” The sound of his voice made her
tremble.

“Mr. McClain? This is Cadence Burke. I’m your daughter.”

“I’ve been waiting a long time for your call.”

“You have?” She choked on the words. The familiar sting as
tears threatened her eyes. She blinked them back. He knew who she was. Mother
had told him about her.

“Indeed, I’m pleased to hear from you.”

“I’ve just found out about you,” she said.

“Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Bryce McClain exclaimed. “How
are you, lass?”

“I’m good.” She could hardly believe she was talking to her
father. “I would like to meet you.”

“When?” he replied without hesitation.

She didn’t know why, but this voice, her father, held some
kind of magical power over her. A strange sensation filled her insides. Anticipation?
Excitement? Relief? Definitely relief.

All of a sudden, she wasn’t sure if she could wait until
Friday. She wanted to run to the man now, grab him in a bear hug and have him
tell her that everything would be okay.

“I would like to come to Scotland in three days if that’s
convenient.”

“In three days’ time, you say?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Cadence could hear a woman talking.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said. He spoke to someone.
Their conversation was muffled.

Cadence’s heart sank. Mr. McClain had remarried. He had a
family. Had he told them about her? The last thing she wanted to do was cause
problems for this man.

“Cadence?”

“Maybe a meeting in three days is inconvenient,” she said.
She wasn’t prepared for the worst. “Maybe I should wait.”

“No, lass. You should come.”

“I’ll be there in the morning on Virgin Atlantic from New
York.”

“I’ll send a driver to the airport.”

“Thank you.” This time her voice did break. It made her
sound weak and unsure of herself.

“Cadence, are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for making the call.”

“You’re most welcome. I’m so happy there’s going to be a
reunion.”

“Me too.”

She put down the cell phone. She was getting her wish but
she was reminded of Preston’s warning. The meeting could be hurtful and
disappointing.

She didn’t care. She wondered how many other things about
her mother she didn’t know. She was sure there were things she would rather not
know but to talk to someone who had been close to her, cared for her, would be
an opportunity she couldn’t miss.

She stared at the phone.

What strange ways life seemed to twist and turn. She
couldn’t help but think back on how her life had been only a few days before.
Lectures, research papers, long hours at the university art gallery. The sad
part was that she hadn’t even noticed how predictable she’d become. She had
just gone on with her daily rituals, doing the motions, living a sheltered
existence. And then in the span of two days, she’d discovered the man who had
loved her mother.

Her father.

* * * * *

Cadence had dressed carefully. Not too dressy but not too
casual either.

She wore a pair of black pants—slimming, she’d been told—and
a simple pinstriped black-and-white blouse with an embroidered lily above her
right breast. She slipped into a sensible pair of black dress shoes with a heel
that was only two inches. If she became so nervous that she became clumsy,
which could happen, she wouldn’t fall flat on her face and break her ankle.

She had taken extra care with her makeup and hair to make
sure she looked perfect for the first meeting with the man who’d loved her
mother in secret and who’d fathered her.

As she left passport control and immigration at the BAA
Edinburgh International Airport, her nerves were close to shattering. She was
really here. She’d really done it.

She searched the sea of faces waiting at the Arrivals Hall.
A uniformed limo driver held up a sign with her name scribbled in black ink. A
tiny thrill of relief followed by trepidation coursed through her.

She introduced herself.

“Welcome to Scotland, Miss Burke,” the man said.

She delighted at his thick accent. “I’m happy to be here,
believe me.”

She followed him to the short-stay car park, where he opened
the back door of a shiny black Bentley. She climbed inside. He would take her
to her father’s house in the village of Alness, the driver explained.

Bryce McClain hadn’t elected to greet her at the airport,
which she found odd, but she hadn’t come all the way to Scotland to complain or
find fault. He had his reasons and she intended to respect his privacy.

She was so nervous, she really didn’t know what she would
say when she arrived at his house. Should she hug him? Shake his hand? Call him
Mr. McClain or Bryce? She slumped in the backseat, finally admitting that she
was going to wear herself out with worry.

If Preston were there, he’d hold her hand, squeeze her
shoulder and reassure her that everything would be all right. Her heart ached
thinking about him.

She’d ended their quickie affair, not realizing how much
she’d come to depend on him. Her emotions had come close to carrying her away
to Never Never Land. He hadn’t wanted her to come to Edinburgh, had he? He
would’ve prevented her from meeting her own father.

All he’d cared about was her money.

She was on her own, now that she’d put her fortune on the
line.

Even if Preston cared for more than her money, which was a
big if, he was a busy man, absorbed in his life in the city and dedicated to
his profession.

Breaking off with him was in both of their best interests.

They drove out of the car park, under gray skies and the
threat of rain. She watched out the window as people of all ages tramped the
gray sidewalks going about their business. She saw a man in a kilt and couldn’t
stop staring. How fascinating. How historic. She sat back and wished she had someone
to share all this with.

They reached a gigantic roundabout and she clung to the
armrest as the fearless driver sped around at increasing speed and popped out
heading west.

The last few days, she’d been a whirling dervish getting
ready. She’d slashed ownership of her possessions with the precision of a
surgeon’s knife. Her furniture and appliances had gone to My Sister’s Attic.
They’d sent a truck and two beefy guys and emptied out the condo in one
afternoon. Her precious books and a few keepsakes, she’d put in storage.

Her friends had given her a going-away party. She couldn’t
tell them why she was headed for Edinburgh, only that she was doing some
personal research. They all seemed to accept what she’d told them. She realized
how much she’d miss the people she’d gone to school with and the neighbors
she’d shared many a Friday night meal with.

Before she left for JFK, she mailed the condo keys to
Victoria. Curiously, she didn’t have any sentimental attachment to the place
she’d called home for more than three years. The people, she’d miss like crazy.

And Preston? He hadn’t called. He’d realized their
relationship, or whatever it was, was over. It’d hurt like hell for a few days
but now there was only a dull ache where her heart had been.

She noticed how the driver kept glancing in the rearview
mirror.

Of course they’d all be curious about who she was and why
she’d come to Scotland. Would they guess that their employer had a daughter?

Would Mr. McClain even tell his staff who she was? He’d
seemed friendly enough on the phone and she would even say eager to see her.
Except he hadn’t been eager enough to come to the airport. He hadn’t made any
effort to find out who she was. Look for her. Contact her on his own.

Had her mother made him promise not to find Cadence just as
she’d made Auntie Anne? Why would she do such a thing?

The driver was watching her again.

“I hope that I’ll get a chance to explore Edinburgh when I’m
done visiting Mr. McClain,” she said, trying to break the ice with small talk.

“Aye.”

“It’s a very ancient city,” she said.

“Aye. That she is.”

“Does Mr. McClain live very far?”

“No, not far.”

“I’m very glad to be here in Scotland.”

“Aye, so you’ve said.”

Cadence decided that she wouldn’t get any information out of
the driver, so she stopped the one-sided conversation and looked out at the
countryside.

They left the freeway and traveled a two-lane highway and
countryside sparsely populated by neatly kept farms with freshly plowed fields.
There were cows with calves and sheep with lambs in the pastures, exactly like
the landscape paintings she’d seen in museums.

Several miles later, they turned into a long driveway lined
by towering elms. It was very tranquil under the canopy of leaves.

They emerged to a circular driveway and a gorgeous stone
manor house. From the appearance of the ivy-covered stone, the building was
very old. The flowerbeds of tall daffodils were immaculately attended. She
spotted, on the far left of the house, a barn. The barn was new compared to the
home. She wondered if her father was a farmer.

Father. Calling a stranger by that name would take some
getting used to.

The car came to a stop in front of the wide entryway. The
door—fitted with cast-iron and a lion’s head for a doorknob—looked medieval.
She’d arrived into another time.

Cadence pushed a button and her window went down. She took a
deep breath and the fresh air seeped into her lungs and then flowed through her
body.

The chauffeur jumped out of his seat and opened her door.
She was terribly nervous but also excited. She exited the car and stood in
front of her father’s house. Where was her greeting?

The chauffeur removed her luggage from the boot and set it
on the ground. “Would you like me to take your things to the house?”

“No, I can manage.”

He bowed and returned to his seat. He drove away, leaving
Cadence standing alone. There was nothing left to do but knock.

She lifted the heavy iron but the door opened before she let
it go.

Staring back at her from the door was a familiar face.
Cadence blinked rapidly but the vision wouldn’t go away. Her world began to
spin, she became weightless and then the ground disappeared from underneath
her.

Chapter Thirteen

When Cadence came to, she was lying inside an antique room
on a plush, maroon-colored velvet couch. She was reminded of castles and
damsels in distress. Of ancient kings and their knights, swords gleaming.