The Setup Read Online Free PDF Page B

one of Blake’s classes, which was how Jefferson came to meet her. His friend had suggested Donna seek him out because she had needed help in every subject but art, which was her passion.
    And so, he’d become her tutor. At first for a fee, because that was how he’d earned money on the side back then. But it wasn’t long before he was giving her help freely. As freely as he’d given, in secret, his heart.
    Later, after they married and when he asked her how someone like him had gotten so lucky to win someone like her, Donna told him that luck had nothing to do with it. He had won her over with his gentle ways. It had taken a little over three years for him to go from tutor to boyfriend to husband. Buteven Donna had to admit that she hadn’t thought of him “in that way” when she first met him. Or even within the first few months of their association.
    So why was this woman looking at him as if she was trying to decide something about him, something very personal? Looking at him as if she could almost see everything about him clear down to the bone.
    Careful, Jefferson, you’re letting old memories get to you. Maybe it was the result of being back in New Orleans and its association with voodoo. In an uncharacteristic flight of imagination, he could easily picture this woman as a high priestess. Who was she, anyway?
    That question was answered as the desk clerk cleared his throat and looked at the woman a bit subserviently.
    “The Jackson Suite, Miss Sylvie? You sure? Miss Charlotte likes to keep that suite in reserve for unexpected guests.” The reminder was tactful and the clerk seemed to be holding his breath, obviously hoping that he hadn’t given offense.
    ‘Miss’ Sylvie’s expression indicated that none was taken. If anything, she looked amused. “Well, I’d say that this guest appears to be quite ‘unexpected.’”
    She turned her vivid green eyes back to him. Jefferson found them unsettling—and completely fascinating. Very much, he realized, like the woman.
    “Except that he himself expected to stay here and have a room waiting for him when he arrived.” Her smile widened.
    Jefferson felt something tighten in his stomach, like he was bracing himself before going down a steep incline in the first car of a roller coaster.
    “Isn’t that right, Mr. Lambert?”
    Jefferson blinked, momentarily taken aback. He was about to ask her how she knew his name, then realized that she had overheard his exchange with the desk clerk.
    “Yes,” he murmured just as he became aware of something else. Pieces began to drift into place. Sort of. “He just called you Miss Sylvie.”
    “Yes. It’s one of David’s more charming habits,” she said as she turned and smiled at the man behind the desk. David began to turn a shade of pink that, until this very moment, Jefferson hadn’t thought was humanly possible. “‘Miss’ sounds ever so much nicer than being addressed as ‘ma’am.’ It gives the illusion of perpetual youth.”
    As if she needed an illusion, Jefferson thought.
    “You wouldn’t be Sylvie Marchand, would you?” he asked hesitantly.
    Sylvie cocked her head, sending soft red hair cascading down her shoulder. “And why wouldn’t I be?”
    It had been a long time since Jefferson had felt youthful. Walking into the hotel had done it for a moment, but in reality, he and youth had parted company a long time ago. Looking at Sylvie Marchand, he suddenly felt older than ever. Granted, the woman wasn’t exactly Emily’s age, but she had to be around twenty years younger than he was.
    Which meant, he suddenly realized, that he could have been Sylvie’s father if he’d gotten started a great deal earlier in the procreation department than he actually had. Still, he held on to a little hope. After all, there could be more than one woman with that name. Maybe the young woman he was speaking to was his date’s niece.
    “You can’t be Sylvie Marchand, because I am supposed to meet a Sylvie