The Perfect Temptation (49 page)

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Authors: Leslie LaFoy

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Yes, it was selfish. Yes, it was
self-centered.
And it was

most definitely shallow. But it was the
unvarnished truth.

 

Alex was so very different from any other
woman he'd ever

known. Being with her was so very different.
And if he had

to, he'd sell his soul to make love to her.
Somewhere along

the way, he'd become a desperate, starving
man. One of

those pathetic males for whom other
men-rational, self-possessed

men-felt acutely sorry. One of those men
that

other men considered an embarrassment.

 

And the truly pathetic thing was that he
didn't really want

to stop hungering for her the way he did.
As
odd and inexplicable

as it might be, there was a kind of
rightness to it.

 

And if the pleasure in the foreplay was so
magnificently intense,

then Lord knew the culmination probably
would be,

too.

 

Probably? Hell, there wasn't any doubt. Alex
was going

to reduce him to a heap of sated, grinning
cinders. He wasn't

about to walk away from the chance for such
soul-searing

ecstasy. Not just to avoid the risk of male
social censure. He

was
selfish-and
maybe a little vain, too-but he wasn't stupid.

 

All he had to do was carefully, deliberately
manage the

impressions of everyone and he could have
all his fantasies

come true
and
avoid the pity of his
peers.

 

Barrett's would be the most important and
most difficult

impression to control, he knew. The trick
was to keep their

conversations focused strictly on business
and well away

from the personal. Barrett had an uncanny
ability
to
see

through denials and attempts to camouflage
the truth. That

and absolutely
no
restraint when it came to asking pointed,

probing questions.

 

Which is what made him a good investigator,
Aiden had

to admit And a worthy friend You didn't lie
to Barrett. Not

about the big things, anyway.
If
you did and got away with it,

it
was
only because, for one reason or another, he'd let you

for the time being. Eventually there'd
be
a reckoning.

 

Aiden stood up a bit straighter and rolled
his shoulders.

 

Thankfully, there was a great
deal
they needed to talk about

and all of it revolved around his
professional concerns for

Alex's safety. He'd delayed long enough to
be able to focus

on it, too.

 

Stepping out of the shadows, he strode
toward the open

carriage house door. Barrett and Mohan were
just on the

other side of it, heading his way.

 

"I thought it might be you the peacocks
heralded," Aiden

began, stopping them at the threshold. At
his friend's half smile

and cocked brow, he continued, "Good
news, Barrett.

 

On
the seat of your
coach, you'll find the Westerham silver

service for twelve. Less one butter knife.
And you'd better

still have it because if you think I'm going
back out in search

of a replacement, you're out of your
mind."

 

"You actually found it? How much did it
cost you?"

 

''Alex found it," he corrected.
''All
two hundred. And that

took work. The old woman was vicious."

 

Barrett's gaze fell to his hand and his
smile quirked

higher. "You didn't have to hit her,
did you?"

 

"I was suckered into a rugby game this
afternoon," he

replied, lifting his hand, flexing his
fingers, and wondering

what was in the salve Alex had used. The
pain was gone. Absolutely

gone. "Against Blackthorn. Walker-Hines
plays for

them."

 

"Oh, let me guess," Barrett
replied drolly. "With his usual

sorry lack of good judgment, he cuddled up
next to Alex and

made an indecent proposal."

 

"If
he'd actually
touched her, your solicitor would be

posting bond for me because I would have
killed him."

 

Mohan grinned. Barrett shook his head slightly,
saying,

 

"Damn shame he
exercised
a smidgen of good sense
today."

 

He brightened and his brow went back up.
"So was Blackthorn

finally defeated?"

 

"Five to two."

 

"Resoundingly. Good show, John
Aiden," he congratulated,

clapping him on his shoulder. "But I
must say that

you don't seem appropriately pleased by the
day's successes.

 

If
I had to guess, I'd
say that something's niggling at

you."

 

Aiden looked down at Mohan and smiled.
"Preeya's off to

market with 'Sawyer and I
think
Alex is in the kitchen seeing

to the start of dinner. Would you please go
see
if
she needs

any help?"

 

The boy sighed, pouted for a moment, and
then nodded.

 

He'd barely walked off toward the kitchen
when Barrett

said, "You
think
Alex is in the
kitchen? You don't
know?"

 

Aiden ignored the bait and kept to his
purpose. He

rammed his hands into his pockets and
squarely met his

friend's gaze. "What do you know of
India?"

 

"Not much. Why?"

 

"Let's walk toward your carriage while
we talk," he suggested,

turning even as he did, forestalling any
objections

Barrett might have. When he fell in beside
him,
Aiden began.

 

"I keep collecting puzzle pieces and I don't
know enough

about India to know
if
the picture they're forming makes any

real
sense or
not."

 

"Apparently what you think you're
seeing troubles you.

 

Toss the pieces out on the table and we'll
look at them together."

 

"I don't even know where to begin:' he
admitted.

 

Barrett chuckled. "I seem to recall
Alex Radford saying

something in the same vein the morning she
walked into my

office. And as I further recall, you weren't
the least interested

in accommodating her confusion."

 

Well, he'd been working at being an ass that
morning.
It

was a testament to Alex's inherent sense of
fairness that

she'd allowed him to redeem himself. "I
didn't understand

then how complex her world is.
Or
how complicated she is.

 

Even if I had forever and a day, I'd never
fully know her,

 

Barrett. Never. She'd always surprise
me."

 

"But you don't have forever and a
day."

 

A reminder, unusually subtle for Barrett,
that Alex was a

temporary relationship both professionally
and privately.

 

"Correct," he agreed, admonishing
himself to keep to the

public side of his intentions. "And if
I'm right about the puzzle,

 

Alex doesn't, either."

 

"You're still gnawing at the notion
that she's the one in

danger, not the boy?"

 

"She's the one who was almost
kidnapped. She's the one

being followed. I caught a glimpse of
him
this morning at

the auction and again this afternoon. He's
the same man who

was at the window that morning. Alex didn't
recognize
him

but she says that he's probably of the same
caste as Mohan

and his father."

 

"And is that important?"

 

"Hell, I don't know," Aiden
confessed with a frustrated

sigh. '''The subject of caste comes up
frequently enough,

though. Mostly in connection with what one
can and can't

do.
I
swear, they have more rules than we do."

 

"For instance?"

 

"You'd better fall in love with someone
in your own caste

because you're not going to be allowed to
cross the line for

them."

 

Barrett nodded and stuffed his hands in his
pockets, too.

 

"I'd suggest that British expectations
aren't all that much

different except that my mother is now
willing to consider a

daughter-in-law from the untitled class if
I'd just get on with

seriously looking for one. Apparently
they're more patient

about the production of grandchildren in
India."

 

Aiden looked at
him
askance. "How is that
relevant?"

 

"It's really not," Barrett
admitted with a weak smile. "Just

my personal cross of the moment. Who fell in
love with whom

and couldn't be together?"

 

Barrett and his questions. He was a lot like
Mohan. Except

considerably more dangerous.
"It
was merely an illustration,"

he lied, honoring his promise to Alex.
"I wasn't speaking

about anyone in particular."

 

Before Barrett could call him on it and
press, he tossed

out the next piece he'd collected since
they'd last
talked ..

 

"Alex tells me that Kedar-that's
Mohan's father-has two

main rivals for the throne. His cousin and
his younger

brother. Both of them are presumably still
in India and under

his watchful eye. Now, according to Alex,
neither one of them

would have the slightest interest in seeing
her come
to
any

harm. They're more interested in removing
Kedar from the

throne and Mohan from the line of
inheritance."

 

"So why is someone following her?"

 

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