The Perfect Temptation Read online

  "How lovely it is to see you again, Aiden."

  "It's lovely to see you, too, Rose," he replied with what

  Alex thought was a forced smile and too-careful politeness.

  "You look radiant as always. How is Geoffrey? And little

  Geoffrey?"

  The mention of her husband and her s'on didn't keep the

  woman from all but abandoning propriety. Using Terrell's

  bands for balance, she stretched up on her toes and pressed a

  kiss to his cheek. And her breasts hard into bis chest

  ''Both are-exceedingly well," she answered when she finally

  drew back. Still bolding a blushing Terrell's hands, she

  added, 'We have a daughter now. Elizabeth was born almost

  two years ago. You must come by the house for dinner one

  evening and meet her."

  Alex watched him swallow, saw his mental wheels spinning

  at a furious pace. His smile became even more strained.

  "I promise to do so at my first opportunity."

  "I’ll tell Geoffrey so that be can be sure to have your favorite

  brandy on band for the occasion. Please feel free to

  bring your companion."

  And with that pronouncement Alex found herself skewered

  on the woman's gaze. It was direct, certainly, but it was

  also decidedly hostile. All the conversations she'd had with

  the woman's maid and housekeeper, the transactions they'd

  made, flashed through her mind. No, there was no reason for

  animosity of any son. Discretion had been their watchword.

  "My apologies, ladies," Terrell said, quickly freeing himself

  of her grasp. He took Alex's elbow in one hand and, gesturing

  with the other, said, "Mrs. Geoffrey Walker-Hines

  Miss Alexandra Radford."

  Rose Walker-Hines gave her a smile that only another

  woman would recognize as venomous. "If you're with Aiden,

  you must have the resilience of a saint."

  "Hardly," Alex answered honestly before summoning an

  utter lie. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  ''And I yours," she lied in return before turning her full attention

  back to Terrell. "The invitation is open and standing,

  Aiden. As always, at your convenience. It's so nice to have

  you back. We've missed you."

  The smile that had been strained was most definitely edging

  toward brittle as he bowed slightly. "Do give my regards

  to Geoff."

  "I will," she promised, turning and moving toward her

  waiting carriage. Climbing in, she paused to wave and call

  out, ''Until then, Aiden dear."

  Terrell waved With his free hand. His stony smile didn't

  falter and his lips didn't move as he said quietly, "Just as a

  point of information, Geoffrey Walker-Hines is a waste of a

  good suit."

  "We agree on a second issue," Alex admitted as the driver

  closed the door on both the carriage and the encounter. "I

  never would have imagined the possibility."

  He looked down at her, his hand still cradling her elbow.

  "How is it that you know him?”

  "I don't personally. Their servants have been selling off

  heirloom silver pieces for the last six months to pay the

  household bills."

  "How do you know that?"

  "I happen to be a silver broker," she supplied, thinking

  that he asked more questions than most three-year-olds.

  'That was half an answer," he observed with a slight

  shrug. ''But I can deduce the rest. It doesn't take any mental

  prowess to know why the Walker-Hinesesare in such unfortunate

  circumstances. Geoffrey is a miserable gambler. And

  he's always had a fondness for mistresses whose tastes he

  can't afford."

  Did John Aiden Terrell keep mistresses or did he prefer

  brief liaisons With married women? Judging by the kiss Rose

  Walker-Hines had planted on-Alex mentally shook herself,

  appalled at the nature of her musing. Terrell's personal life

  and proclivities were absolutely none of her concern.

  ''One can't help but wonder why she married him," she

  ventured. hoping to mask the true direction of her thoughts.

  "She decided that it was better being Geoffrey's wife than

  being a-"

  He bit off the rest, but she knew the words nonetheless.

  She'd heard them countless times before. "Spinster," Alex

  finished for him, pointedly drawing her arm from the

  warmth and security of his grasp. "On that point, we will

  never agree, Mr. Terrell. Better no marriage than spending

  eternity in a state of misery."

  His eyes instantly went dark and the lines at the comers

  of his mouth deepened as he struggled to take a breath. His

  voice strained, he retorted ever so quietly. ever so somberly,

  "There are worse fates to endure than that of an unhappy

  marriage, Miss Radford." With a motion of his hand, he indicated

  the shop door and asked. "Shall we go in?"

  Alex nodded and gathered her skirts. She didn't know

  him, didn't much care for him, but cruelty, whether unintentional

  or not, was unacceptable. Troubled by his obvious

  pain. she ventured to ease it, saying, “Im sorry if I prodded

  a heartache, Mr. Terrell. I didn't mean to."

  His smile was weak but genuinely appreciative as he took

  her elbow back in hand and pulled open the door. "Does Emmaline

  know that Mohan's an heir to a throne?" he whispered

  as he guided her into the shop ahead of him.

  "She's the only one who does," she supplied, pausing to

  stamp the snow off her feet. "I had no choice but to tell her.

  Otherwise she wouldn't have known how desperately I

  needed the services of a socially acceptable private investigator."

  "So you have gone through all the others."

  "I didn't say that."

  From behind her he laughed softly. The sound rolled over

  her, bathing her in a gentle, comforting warmth. Her body

  relaxed as her mind-dully warned that Aiden Terrell's ability

  to understand her was a danger unlike any she'd ever encountered.

  A warm shudder slowly cascaded. down the

  length of her, and she savored the depth of it, wanting to identify

  the feeling it stirred. It most definitely wasn’t apprehension.

  Neither was it anything even slightly akin to

  repugnance. It was almost a hunger of sorts, a rather pleasant

  kind of ...

  Anticipation, she realized, her heart jolting and her

  breath catching. Dear God in Heaven, what was wrong with

  her? Distance. She needed to keep as far away from the man

  as she possibly could. If only she'd spoken up when Barrett

  Stanbridge had given her the chance. If only there was

  someone else she could hire.

  Alex drew her elbow from his grasp yet again and resolutely

  set off toward the back of the store, saying crisply,

  "Follow me, if you please," hoping that by some great miracle

  he'd turn around and walk out of her life.

  Chapter 4

  Alex stood in the center of the front shop, her hands pressed

  to her midriff and willing her heartbeat to slow. It was absolutely

  ludicrous to run away from a man in your own home.

  Especially a man who was there to protect you and th
ose for

  whom you were responsible. She simply had to gain some

  measure of control over her reactions to Aiden Terrell. She

  was the employer and he was the employee. She'd been the

  royal tutor, for heaven's sake; she'd had hundreds-perhaps

  thousands-of relationships with subordinates before. This

  one was no different from any of the others. She closed her

  eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. "Cool distance," she

  whispered. "Cool, cool distance."

  The sound of his footfalls on the stairs sent her heart back

  into her throat and shattered her mantra. Letting her hands fall

  to her sides, Alex opened her eyes and faced him squarely, resolved

  to take command of the situation before he could.

  He was just coming off the last step when she gestured to

  the goods surrounding her and crisply said, ''As you've no

  doubt surmised, the main floor is devoted to the sale of

  goods. I've tried to arrange things so that my customers can

  easily visualize the various objects in their own homes."

  He nodded and let his gaze wander over the displays. ''Did

  you bring all of this with you when you came out of India?"

  "Very little of that initial shipment remains," she supplied,

  vastly relieved by the distant and impersonal tone she heard

  in his voice. "I receive replacement goods from a trader in

  Dwarka on a regular schedule. One is, in fact, due any day."

  Casually rubbing a paisley cashmere shawl between his

  fingers, he said, "If he knows where you are-"

  "He's Mohan's favorite uncle and can be trusted."

  Again he nodded. This time, though, the gesture was accompanied

  by first a humming sound and then a pronounced

  silence. After several moments, he turned to face her,

  crossed his arms over his chest, and asked, "May I pose a

  more personal question?"

  "I suspect that refusing wouldn't make any difference in

  whether you ask or not."

  ''True,'' he admitted with a grin that sparkled all the way to

  his eyes. "Let me more accurately restate the question. If I

  asked you a personal question, would you give me a straight

  and honest answer?"

  "I can't know the answer to that," she countered warily,

  ''until I know what the question is."

  "Fair enough." He picked up an ornately carved picture

  frame and studied it as he asked, "Why the shop? Why London?

  Mohan's father could have bought a country estate and

  tucked you both neatly away in safe seclusion. Why didn't

  he? Why did he choose to establish his royal tutor as a merchant

  in the heart of a huge city?"

  He considered this a personal subject? God was indeed

  merciful and caring. Alex leaned her hip against the writing

  desk and relaxed, suddenly much more confident in her ability

  to manage both the conversation and Aiden Terrell.

  "While, in recent years, the East India Company may have

  crumbled as a governing body of India," she said, "it's apparent

  that British control isn't going to be surrendered anytime

  soon. The rajas know this, of course, and believe that in order

  to effectively exercise their power within those parameters,

  they must understand the ways of Britain herself." .

  He set aside the one frame and picked up another Without

  comment or-most surprisingly-another question.

  "Part of the reason for bringing Mohan to England," she

  went on, watching him caress the carving with the pads of

  his thumbs , "was to immerse him in British ways so that he

  would be a better leader when his time comes. Ensconced in

  at a country estate wouldn't have accomplished the larger

  goal. London is the center of the empire and so it's London

  that Mohan must experience in order to learn what he must

  to rule effectively." "

  "A partial answer. A quite acceptable one, actually. He

  put down the frame and selected yet another. "Now if you'll

  just as ably answer the other part. Why did he establish you

  as a merchant? Why not simply put you in a house and support

  you and Mohan in royal fashion?" .

  ''That was his intention at the beginning. I suggested that

  Mohan would learn more of what he needs to know if he were

  to experience a more common reality. In the end, the raja saw

  matters my way."

  "Do you always get your way?" .

  "No, not always." He set down the small frame, but this

  time didn't select another. Still, he didn't look at her. She

  found it most odd; it didn't seem at all like him to approach

  matters in this way. "Just usually." .

  His gaze snapped up to meet hers as another of his heart jolting

  grins lit up his face. "I'm not the least surprised by

  that."

  Something had surprised her, though. Aiden could see It.m

  the nervous edge to the smile she gave him in return. Despite

  an apparently determined effort to appear unaffected, her gesture

  was a bit vague and shaky when she indicated the back of

  the main floor and said, "If you'll come this way, I'll show you

  the other rooms."

  There was nothing vague about the way she turned and

  walked off. He'd seen squads of royal sailors make less obvious

  retreats. He followed, puzzling over what he'd done

  that had set her into flight. She'd been answering his questions

  easily and forthrightly up until ... He'd given her a

  compliment. Well, of sorts, anyway. That's when she'd gotten

  flustered. And he'd smiled at her, too.

  “'This is one of the three fabric rooms," she said, interrupting

  his musing.

  Aiden stopped with the space of the doorway separating

  them and looked inside. There were shelves against 3ll the

  walls from floor to ceiling. all of them packed with neatly

  folded fabric. The floor was covered with a dark blue, richly

  patterned rug. A huge library-type table sat in the center .of

  the room and a discreetly draped dress form had been placed

  in the comer. Everything was blue, green, purple, or a variation

  thereof.

  She didn't say anything but he followed when she moved

  to the next room. As the first had been stocked with fabrics

  at the cooler end of the rainbow, this one decidedly displayed

  the warmer. Reds. yellows, oranges. From bright to

  the merest hint of color. Another coordinating rug, another

  table, another dress form.

  The third room she showed him was, to his surprise,

  something of a disappointment after the first two. It was visually

  divided in half. Blacks and grays were on one side.

  Whites to light camels on the other. The rug was white, the

  dress form draped in black. He frowned, realizing that, as

  strange as it was, the general absence of color made him feel

  somehow cheated.

  He was still pondering his reaction to the room when she

  moved to the next. This one she actually entered and he dutifully

  stepped in behind her. There were shelves in this one,

  too. But it wasn't fabric she displayed. It was silver. Tea and

  coffee services, trays, bowls, platters, pitchers, and silverware.


  God Almighty, there was enough silverware in that room to

  set the table at Windsor Castle. There were wooden storage

  boxes of it everyWhere; some stacked one upon the other,

  some of them opened to display the gleaming contents. If

  there was any stolen silver in the mountain before him, he'd

  have one helluva time trying to find it.

  "I don't think I've ever seen a collection of silver this ...

  extensive," he ventured.

  She tweaked the angle of a tea service on one of the

  shelves, saying, "It is a bit overwhelming, isn't it? I didn't

  set out to be a silver broker, but the opportunity presented itself

  and the profits are so attractive, I couldn't resist. It's

  been very instructional for Mohan, too."

  "I can't imagine a raja being all that concerned over what

  spoons are used on the royal table," he offered, hoping that it

  was a neutral enough comment. The very last thing he

  wanted was for her to make a retreat into silence.

  "Actually," she replied. moving objects around the shelves

  as she spoke, ''the lesson comes in weighing public appearances

  and private realities. Mrs. Walker-Hines is a perfect

  example. Publicly she presents her situation as being the epitome

  of financial solvency. Just this morning she had her maid

  carrying purchases out of Emmaline's shop for all to see. Privately,

  however, she's selling silver to pay those bills and

  many others."

  "With the servants doing the actual selling," Aiden supplied,