The Perfect Temptation (39 page)

every time a new shipment comes
in. It's almost magical. I

don't have to do a thing to bring
them here. They simply appear.

If
the auction weren't today and
if
there
weren't some

specific items I've been asked to
find for one of my customers

and if we weren't off to find
stolen silver ... " She

threw out her hands in a gesture
of good-natured frustration.

"As you can see, I
desperately need to spend some time imposing

order on the remains."

His chest was tight but he couldn't
take his eyes off her.

She was so happy, so beautiful.
He forced himself to swallow,

to again put away the impossible.
"You need another

shipment already, don't
you?"

She nodded ruefully and glanced
around her with a delicate

sigh. ''Mohan's uncle has regular
trading routes and

England is a significant
departure from them. When he does

come this way, there isn't much
room in the hold for my

things. I could easily sell
three
times what
I usually get but I

can't impose on his kindness any
more than I already do."

The idea came, bold and bright,
from out of nowhere.

"Maybe," he drawled,
liking it more with every second, ''you

need another supplier, another
shipper."

"Are you offering your
services,
Mr.
Terrell?"

He liked how her eyes sparkled,
too. And the way she

arched a brow when she joined his
games. "I think we can

come to an arrangement we'd both
enjoy."
For a few days at

a time, every few
months,
he silently added.
The perfect relationship

with the perfect
mistress. But only
if
she
stays in

England.

"Aiden?
Mr.
Stanbridge
has arrived."

He blinked and grinned
sheepishly, knowing he'd been

caught dreaming. Hoping to keep
her from asking about

what, he extended his hand,
saying brightly, 'Then we shall

depart."

Barrett was just climbing out of
his carriage when they

stepped outside onto the walk.
Handing Alex up the carriage

steps, he passed the key to the
front door of her shop to his

friend, saying crisply,
"Remember to always lock the door
be
hind

you, old man. Sawyer should be
here shortly. Kindly stay

until he arrives to keep watch
over Preeya. And
if
you don't

mind, we're going to appropriate
your carriage and driver for

the day. It'll make our logistics
ever so much easier. Feel free

to use whatever transport you
fancy in our carriage house."

Before Barrett had a chance to
either accede or protest,

Aiden looked up at the driver and
called out, "Christie's, my

good man. We need to be there
before nine." Then he vaulted

inside, pulled the door closed,
and dropped into the rearfacing

seat. Through the open window, he
could see Barrett

standing on the walk, the key in
his hand, chuckling as he

nodded to his driver.

“That was rather presumptive of
you," Alex chided softly.

''That's the thing with
Barrett," he explained as they

pulled out into traffic.
"You have to presume before he does

or you'll end up on a leash of
his design. It's the army officer

in him."

"And resisting is the ship's
captain in you."

"It's a friendly contest.
And, truth be told, I haven't won

that many of them lately. I'm due
one or two. His nose isn't

out of joint over it. Barrett's a
good sport.
If
he weren't, we

wouldn't be friends." He
settled back into the squabs and the

prospect of a wonderful day.
"What are we going to buy at

Christie's this morning?"

"It's an estate sale, so
there's really no telling what, precisely,

will be there. Which makes it far
more fun, I think.

It's something of an adventure.
In addition to purchasing

whatever might be appropriate for
the Blue Elephant, I'll be

acquiring artwork for one of my regular
customers who has

asked me to find some things
suitable for display in her private

quarters."

"Why doesn't she go buy it
herself?"

"She has horrible taste,
knows it, and defers to mine."

"Given what I've seen in
some homes," he mused, "she's

not the only one who could
benefit from assistance. You

could probably make a profitable
business of that, too."

"I've given it some
thought," she admitted, smiling.
"If
I

were staying in England
permanently I'd likely do it. It's really

quite entertaining to spend other
people's money. And

to be paid for doing it is
absolutely astounding."

He saw the potential in the
comment and seized it. Trying

to sound as though the idea had
never occurred to him before

that instant, he asked, "Why
don't you stay? With all your

enterprises, you'd surely make
more money here than you

will as the royal tutor in
India."

Her smiled faded and there was a
faint sound of resignation

in her voice when she replied,
"Money isn't everything,

Aiden."

''True,''
he admitted, his mind racing in search of another

tack. "What draws you back
to India? Your mother's gone.

Do you have other family
there?"

She shook her head and looked out
the window of the carriage

for a long moment before sighing
and saying, "It's very

complicated, Aiden, and would
take forever to explain."

"I'm a patient man."

Laughing, she looked back at him.
"You are not."

"I beg to differ," he
instantly countered, enjoying, as always,

the challenge of her and knowing
the perfect gambit

to play. "Haven't I nodded
every single morning and accepted

your excuse
du jour
not to
go riding with Mohan and

me? Have I once pressed the
issue?"

''All right, in some things you
can be remarkably, admirably

patient."

"And this is one of
them," he assured her. ''The longest

story begins with a single word,
Alex. Why do you want to

go back
to
India?"

It took her several long moments,
but finally she said

softly, slowly,
''They
took me in
when I had nowhere else to

go. They gave me a home. I have a
place there. I belong to

people. It's not a family like
yours by any means, but they

care for me and worry about me.
That doesn't exist for me in

London. There's only Preeya and
Emmaline and Mohan."

"And me."

''And you," she agreed with
a sufficient amount of hesitation

that Aiden suspected she was
doing so simply for the

sake of being polite. "If I
didn't go back ...
If
I stayed, I'd

never again see Preeya and Mohan.
With Mohan no longer

needing your protection, you'd go
on with your life. There

would only be Emmaline left. And
I'm afraid that she would

very quickly become very tired of
mothering me."

Her concerns were legitimate and
completely understandable.

But he wasn't about to cry quits
in the face of

them. "You could make other
friends, Alex. Easily."

The smile she gave him was patient.
"I don't belong here,

Aiden. I'm English and yet I'm
not"

It wasn't what he'd expected her
to say, but he had to admit

that if ever there was one
absolute truth about her ...

"Well, you're certainly not
Indian," he pointed out, grasping

at the only counterpoint he could
see.

Again she surprised him. Laughing
quietly, she shook her

head. "Being Indian is more
than a matter of race, Aiden. It's

a way of looking at the world, at
life. And you'll have to concede

that I tend to approach matters
in ways that aren't thoroughly,

typically English. Other people
realize it, too. They

know that I'm different, that I'm
not really one of them.

You're the rare exception in
being intrigued by it. The usual

reaction is to establish a polite
but decidedly cool distance."

"Then their ignorance and
bigotry is their loss."

While she smiled in shy
appreciation, Aiden silently

groaned. Could he have offered a
comment any more sophomoric?

And as counters went, it was
worse than pathetic.

He'd not only all but openly
accepted her point, he'd also

left himself no room to maneuver
in the process. Of all the

short-sighted, brainless

"And yet," she went on,
interrupting his internal diatribe,

"being perfectly honest
about it, there's a part of me that

very much wants to stay
here."

His relief was as profound as his
surprise. With reignited

hope, he cocked a brow.
"Why? The Blue Elephant?"

"In small part. But mostly
because life here is so predictable."

"Predictable?" he
prodded as her gaze slipped to the

world beyond the carriage.
"How so?"

"The boundaries are very
clear, Aiden," she replied, looking

into the distance. "The
proper thing to do, to be, to feel,

to think ... One doesn't have to
think, actually. All one has

to do is follow along with
everyone else and meet the very

clearly defined expectations of
society. And those expectations

are as narrow as they are
universal. Which is what