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Authors: Leslie LaFoy

BOOK: The Perfect Temptation
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whirled about and grabbed
Aiden Terrell by his arms.

 

"Preeya wants a peacock
in the worst sort of way. I have no

idea whether she intends to
keep it for a sentry or
to
have it

for a main course one night.
But she's asked me for ages to

find one for her and ... I
 
have to have that
pair
of
peacocks,

Aiden. I don't care what it
takes. I don't care what it costs. I

have to have them. Today.
Now."

 

God, she was beautiful. Such
excitement, such open happiness

and hope
.
Her eyes
were bright blue with
it
"Peacocks;'

he said, moistening his lips.
Catching the birds; trussing them,

and getting them into the
rented hack and back to the house

was going to take some time.
Time he'd planned to use for

finding and buying horses. But
if Alex wanted peacocks and

getting them for her made her
happy, then he'd make what

adjustments were necessary.
He'd get to the horses tomorrow
.

 

It was a small thing compared
to having
accomplished

his most important goal of the
day. Alex had not only come

to trust him, but she had just
thrown herself and a heartfelt

desire on his good nature.

 

It was good to know that life
could still offer the pleasures

of a game well played.
It
was even
better to
realize
that, despite

having been to hell and back
,
he
hadn't lost his touch.

 

"All right, Alex,"
he said.
"If
Preeya wants peacocks, we'll

get her peacocks."

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

Ah, Alex groggily thought,
rolling over and burying her face

in her pillow. The unmistakable
notes of outraged peacocks

at dawn. It was like being back
in India. Except in India, of

course, one of the servants
would be bringing her breakfast

in bed. Here, she was going to
have to get up, dress herself,

and walk to the dining room
if
she
wanted something to eat.

 

Preeya might well be thrilled
beyond words to have peacocks,

but she wasn't going to let the
raucous reminder of

home sweep away her common
sense.

 

Flopping onto her back. Alex
sighed and stretched, then

sat up, struggling to keep her
eyes open. She stretched again,

long and slowly, trying to draw
herself from the edges of one

of the deepest sleeps she could
ever remember. She smiled

and let her arms drop into her
lap. A day with Aiden Terrell

would make anyone sleep like
the dead.

 

The man simply didn't sit idle
for a single second. He and

Mohan had been playing a
spirited game of Parcheesi last

night when she'd had to put
down her needlepoint and admit

that she couldn't keep her eyes
open another minute. What a

day it had been. Hopefully,
today would
be
a bit less frenetic.

 

No, she amended, pushing the
coverlet down and sliding
to

the edge of the mattress, a
lot
less frenetic.

 

The knock at the door gave her
pause. She arched a brow,

wondering
if
perhaps
Preeya was even more grateful
~an

she'd known. "Yes?"
she called out.

 

The door opened and, without
the slightest preamble or

apology, Mohan marched in,
jauntily saying, "Good morning,

Miss Alex."

 

Right behind him came Aiden
Terrell. "Good morning,

Miss Radford."

 

Mohan, dressed in a clean,
crisply pressed suit. was carrying

a secretary's portable desk,
the quill pen tucked behind

his ear. Aiden was without his
suit coat. his shirt sleeves

rolled up to his elbows, and
carrying a folded wooden tape.

 

He smiled at her and winked.

 

"Excuse me!" she
gasped, snatching up the coverlet and

using it as a shield. ''What
are you-"

 

''Oh, it's no problem at
all,"
Aiden
assured her, grinning

as he followed Mohan to the windows.
''As long as you keep

that coverlet in place."

 

Scrambling back into the bed
and well under the covers,

she asked, "What are you
two doing?"

 

"Is
it not apparent?" Mohan asked, making a
notation on

his paper as Aiden unfolded the
tape. ''We
are
measuring the

windows."

 

''Why?''

 

"Mr.
Terrell and I will take our numbers to a blacksmith

this morning and commission
iron covers for each and every

window:' he supplied, leaning
forward to note the numbers

as Aiden held the measure flush
against the window frame.

 

As they continued to work
in
tandem,
her ward went on,

saying,
"Mr.
Terrell
has designed a most attractive pattern.

 

You will like it immensely. And
when that task has been

completed, we will begin our
search for horses. Two for the

carriage I selected and three
for riding. And when that task is

completed we will bring them
home and then construct a

more substantial pen for
Preeya's peacocks. They have destroyed

the one Mr. Terrell attempted
to make last night."

 

"I'll remind you that it
was dark and cold and I was under

attack," Aiden retorted
good-naturedly, refolding his tape as

Mohan made further notes.

 

"How is your leg this
morning?" Alex asked, struggling

to contain her laughter,
amusement overriding her embarrassment.

 

"Sore. He took out a couple
of good-sized chunks."

 

Good-sized? Ha! He'd barely
been nipped. "Perhaps

you'll have scars to share with
the other boys."

He was biting back a rejoinder;
she could see it in the

devilish twinkle in his eyes.
He had to look away and gain

control of his smile before he
could say, "With what we have

to do, I'm guessing we'll be
gone all day. I'll tell Preeya before

we leave so she doesn't cook
for an army at lunch."

 

"Am
I not invited to go along?"
Please, dear
God, have

mercy on me.

 

He looked a little startled and
he sounded apologetic

when he answered, "Mohan
said that you wouldn't want to

because your crates have
arrived."

 

"Well, then he's
right," she hastened to assure
him,
relieved.

 

''There's work to be done
here." She started and studied

the light filtering through the
fretwork. "What time is it?"

 

"Just after nine,"
Mohan supplied, marching toward the

door. "We have been up for
hours. We have much to do today."

 

"I've never slept this
late in my entire life," Alex whispered.

 

"It's hardly a sin, you
know," Aiden said on his way out

the door. He grinned at her
over his shoulder, winked, added,

 

"But that nightgown
certainly is," and then disappeared from

sight.

 

With a mortified squeak, Alex
buried her face in her hands.

 

Maybe, just maybe, Hope quickly
suggested, he hadn't really

seen anything before she'd
pulled the coverlet over her.

 

Checking the open doorway with
a nervous glance, she took

a deep breath and slid to the
edge of the mattress again. The

opposite one this time. The
side nearest her dressing-table

mirror.

 

"God," she moaned,
knowing there was no point in

scooping up the coverlet to see
how fast she could hide herself.

 

A single moment-a mere fraction
of a moment - would

have been more than enough.
Gossamer silk didn't

hide a thing. And the cinnabar
shading only made the curves

and the peaks of her breasts
all that much darker, all that

much more noticeable. Her only
remaining hope, tattered

and slim as it was, was that
her nipples hadn't been hardened

then as they were now.

 

Flannel. She needed to make
herself a nightgown of thick,

heavy flannel.
In
black.
With buttons all the way up to her

chin. And then pray that he'd
have a chance-just once-to

see it and realize that she
wasn't a complete wanton.

 

Aiden blew a stream of cheroot
smoke into the fading daylight

and considered his
accomplishments. By any standard

of measurement the day had been
an absolute success on almost

every single front. The one
less-than-sterling achievement

 

He glanced toward the enclosure
he'd fashioned

out of poles and a huge
fisherman's net. Inside were the peacocks,

hale, apparently happy, and, to
his irritation, very

much alive. Whoever had
originally thought to clip their

wings should have been shot.
And the sound the damn things

made at first light ... Jesus.
He'd come straight up off his

bed, scrambling for his
revolver and thinking that Mohan

was being murdered by inches in
the back yard.

 

How Alex had managed to sleep
through it was a mystery.

 

So was the fact that the
neighbors hadn't stormed the yard

and, in the name of public
peace and order, dispatched the obnoxious

beasts. He'd sure as hell been
tempted. But he hadn't.

 

No, he'd gotten Preeya feed
grain from the stable before he'd

left and then built the pen
when he'd returned.

 

Aiden sighed, shook his head,
and deliberately set it all

aside, reminding himself that
the positive notes in the day's

ledger had considerably
'
more
weight than a pair of
pea
cocks.

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