Read The Perfect Temptation Online
Authors: Leslie LaFoy
"Mr. Terrell," she
said, barely lowering her delicate little
chin in acknowledgment. But her
eyes as she met his gaze ...
God, they were the most
breathtaking color. Not quite blue,
not quite green. With a hint of
gray. She blinked. twice. And
he saw something flicker in their
depths just before she
forced herself to swallow.
His long-dormant sense of
curiosity stirred. He obviously
unsettled her. Why?
"Miss Radford," he
said, bowing ever so slightly at the
waist as he continued to assess
her.
"Please have a seat and tell
us how we may be of service
to you," Barrett
interjected, indicating one of the chairs facing
the desk and drawing her attention away from Aiden.
"Would you care for a cup of
coffee? Aiden will be more
than happy to get one for
you."
Aiden, the obedient minion,
he silently groused.
She met his gaze again for the barest fraction of a second
as she seated herself. ''If it
wouldn't be too much trouble,"
she answered, looking away to
watch Barrett settle into his
chair.
"Cream?" Aiden asked
wryly. "Sugar?"
She didn't look at him again as
she said, "Neither, thank
you."
Well, that was interesting. He
would have guessed her to
be a three-lumps,
half-a-cup-of-cream woman. Not entirely
because she preferred it that
way, just mostly because it
meant that someone would have to
do her exact bidding.
"I was referred to you by
Mrs. Emmaline Fuller," Aiden
heard her say to Barrett.
"Her brother, Sawyer, is in service
to Mr. Carden Reeves, who
Emmaline says is a great friend
of yours."
“
Ah
yes. We know Sawyer. In fact, Mr. Terrell is residing
in the Reeveses' home while the
family is out of the country."
"Egypt. A bridge
project," Aiden supplied. crossing to the
desk. Handing her the cup and
saucer, he smiled tightly and
added, "Carden is an
architect."
''Thank you," she murmured,
taking the coffee while quite
pointedly-not looking at him.
Whether she was intimidated or
dismissive, he couldn't
tell. But, in either case, he
wasn't about to be ignored. If Barrett,
private investigator
extraordinaire, intended for him to
deal with whatever petty tragedy
she'd brought in the door,
then he was going to take charge
of it all from the beginning.
With any luck, he'd so fluster
her that she'd change her mind
and go away. That or Barrett
would decide that he wasn't fit
to be let loose in the civilized
world and decide to take the
case himself.
Propping his hip on the comer of
Barrett's desk, Aiden
casually crossed his booted
ankles and folded his arms
across his chest. "And why
has it become necessary for you
to ask Mrs. Fuller to recommend a
private investigator? Has
there been a loss or theft of
some valuable piece of personal
property?"
Her gaze darted to the vicinity
of his thighs and then
away. To Barrett she said,
"I don't quite know how or where
to begin, actually."
"Perhaps simply and at the
beginning?" Aiden suggested,
not caring one whit that sarcasm
rippled through the words.
"Please ignore his
tartness," Barrett offered in way of
censure. "He has no patience
in the morning. What is it that
you would like us to do for you,
Miss Radford?"
She sat up straighter, squaring
her shoulders and lifting
her chin. The coffee cup sat
silently in the saucer, but the
surface of the liquid rippled
ever so slightly. Slowly taking a
deep breath, she finally said,
"I need a child protected."
"Your child?" Barrett
asked before Aiden could.
"In a manner of speaking.
I'm responsible for his care,
education, and safety."
"In other words,"
Barrett continued, "you're his legal
guardian."
"Not legally. Not in the
strictest British sense of it. anyway."
With a cocked brow, Barrett
slowly asked, "In just whose
sense of it then?"
"His father's."
At the rate they were
not
progressing
... "Miss Radford,"
Aiden said, trying to find a
smile of sorts, "I'm afraid that I
don't have much patience at any
point in the day. Would you
please begin at the beginning and
spare us the necessity of
playing a quizzing game?"
The look she shot him was lethal.
Aiden grinned, amused
by her obvious assumption that he
could be quelled by such
feminine censUre. She arched a
brow and pointedly turned to
Barrett before she began, saying,
"My father was in the employ
of the British East India
Company. After his death,
Mother entered into the service
of an Indian family in the
northern provinces as a tutor.
When she passed away, I assumed
her responsibilities."
Barrett nodded. "And how
long ago was this?"
"I came into the position
just after the Sepoy Rebellion."
"It was some six or seven
years ago," Barrett commented.
"You couldn't have been much
more than a child
yourself when you assumed such a
heavy responsibility."
"I was nineteen at the time.
And I assure you that I was and
still am-quite capable."
Which made her now twenty-four or
-five, Aiden figured
as Barrett droned on, no doubt
offering some sort of apology
for what she'd obviously
perceived as an insult. At that age
any
miss
was not only well
past her prime, but so was any
hope of an advantageous marriage.
Alexandra Radford had
come out of India too late.
"As you are no doubt
aware," he heard her say, "the Sepoy
Rebellion dramatically changed
the political and economic
structures of India. With the
collapse of the East India
Company, some of its power was
redistributed among the
native leaders."
"From what we hear,"
Barrett contributed. "not always in
a peaceful and roundly accepted
manner."
She nodded and took a sip of her
coffee before answering.
"Native Indians have always
engaged in political intrigue.
With power the prize, the ancient
game has become
one of much higher stakes and
thus of much more deadly
means. Three years ago, fearing
for his son's life, my employer
arranged for me to bring the
child to London. We’re
to remain here until such time as
he deems India-and his
position--safe and sends for
us."
''How old is this child?"
Aiden asked, hoping to move
matters along now that they'd dispensed
with her general
family and employment history.
She didn't look at him-not that
he'd expected her to and
said to Barrett, "He's now
ten."
Again Barrett nodded. "And
why do you believe him to
be in danger?"
''I've noticed that we're being
followed when we move
about town, Mr. Stanbridge. I'd
like to think that it's nothing
more than a cutpurse surveying a
possible victim, but, given
our circumstances, I can't afford
to assume that it's anything
so benign."
She considered a cutpurse a
benign threat? Jesus. "If
this ... " Aiden knit his
brows. "What did you say his name
is?"
"I didn't," she replied
coolly. "It's Mohan."
With a nod, he went on. "If
Mohan's father is so concerned
about his son's safety, why
didn't he send an army
with you for protection? Why are
you in a position to have to
seek it from us?"
She set the cup and saucer on the
desk and turned slightly
in her chair to face him
squarely. She was at a disadvantage
in having to look up at him, but
she compensated for it well.
As though speaking to a dullard,
she said with careful measure,
"An army would draw
attention, Mr. Terrell. Drawing
attention to yourself also draws
the danger you're seeking to
avoid. Mohan's father chose a
safer course and sent two of
his most trusted men with us, posing
as household servants.
"One died of illness while
we were at sea. Rather than
risk betraying our whereabouts by
sending for a replacement,
I decided to make a go of it with
the one remaining
guard. And, as I expected, his
protection proved to be quite
sufficient. Unfortunately, four
months ago he was an innocent
bystander caught up in a street
altercation. While he
survived the assault, he
sustained
an injury to his head that
left him partially paralyzed and
with the mind of a child.
The doctors said there was
nothing to be done to improve his
condition and so, three weeks
ago, I regretfully sent him
back to India and his family. At
the time I did so, I also sent
word of our situation to Mohan's
father and asked that he
send replacements. Until they
arrive, I'd like to employ
Mr. Stanbridge's services to
ensure that Mohan is kept safe."
Barrett, not him, Aiden noted.
There was a God and He
was indeed benevolent. But as
long as he had her attention,
there was no point in wasting it
since-for some odd, unknown
reason-he enjoyed the fact that
his mere presence
seemed to irritate her. It
certainly wasn't very gentlemanly
to goad her, but then, he'd given
up being a gentleman quite