The Perfect Temptation (29 page)

"Exactly." Aiden
relaxed, pleased and thinking that their

discussion was going to go
extremely well. The boy was

quick. "And then there
are the ones you do notice that way,

but know better than to touch.
For example, Seraphina, the

wife of my friend Carden.
Seraphina is a beautiful, exceptional

woman and if she weren't
Carden's wife I'd be willing

to stand in the queue to court
her. But she's devoted to Carden

and I know that
if
I
ever so much as touched her ..
.

Well, if she didn't kill me on
the spot, Carden would, and it

would mean the end of two
friendships that I value very

much. It's not worth the
risk."

Mohan nodded but didn't say
anything. Aiden took it as a

sign of his understanding and
went on. "And then there's the

kind of women that someone
like you and I would marry.

Women like Seraphina was
before she married. Their interest

and attentions will someday
belong solely to their husbands

and they don't go around
passing out their favors

before they meet him
.
You
respect women like that for their

strength of character and good
virtue. You don't pursue them

unless you fully intend to
pledge your life and fidelity to

them."

Again Mohan nodded but kept
his silence. Aiden took a

deep breath and let it out
slowly. "And that leaves the last

group of women," he
began, "married or not, who make

themselves available to you
without strings or any conditions

beyond a bit of discretion and
an ability to please them

in bed. I call them the giving
women. It's either them or

nothing at all."

The boy tilted his head to the
side and asked, "And nothing

is not an acceptable
condition?"

"It's all right if you're
a monk or too drunk to notice,"

Aiden admitted. He laid his
hand on Mohan's shoulder and

continued, saying,
"You're not quite old enough yet to appreciate

the kind of drives men have,
Mohan. Trust me, you

will
in
another
four or five years. When you find yourself

there, just remember that the
giving women are a relatively

safe outlet. As long as you
keep your wits about you and employ

precautions."

He nodded again and then
stopped abruptly. "What kind

of precautions?"

It
was a good question, a perfectly logical and
understandable

one. But the answer was more
than the boy needed

or could use at the moment.
"Let's save that discussion for

another day, shall we? I've
probably gone way too far already.

And for God's sake don't
mention any of this conversation

to Alex. She'd have my hide
for it."

"In
which category of women does Miss Alex
belong?"

"Well ... " The
answer was as instant and clear as it was

infuriatingly painful to see.
He had no business whatsoever

kissing her, much less hoping
to draw her into his bed.

"She's like Seraphina:'
he admitted aloud, the words thickening

in his throat. "She's the
kind of woman that a man

marries for love."

"I thought so,"
Mohan countered, nodding enthusiastically.

"You sometimes look at
Miss Alex like my father

looks at my mother.
Are
you
hoping to marry her?"

"Your mother's already
married," Aiden pointed out,

dodging the issue, furious
with himself for having been so

blinded by desire.

"I meant Miss Alex, and
you very much know that. You

are attempting to evade giving
me an answer."

Angry with being pinned into a
comer, angry at Alex for

not being what he wanted her
to be, he replied, ''The answer's

no. I'm not planning to marry
Alexandra Radford. Is

that definite enough for
you?"

''That is good. My father
would be most displeased if she

were to marry someone
else."

It took a second for the words
to fully penetrate his resentment.

"Whoa right there!"
he demanded, catching the boy by

the collar of his coat and
hauling him
to
an abrupt stop. "What

are you saying? That your
father intends to marry her?"

Mohan shrugged. "Perhaps
my father
.
Perhaps some other

raja."

"But you told me just
yesterday that your father considered

her too stubborn to be a good
wife."

"She is greatly improving
by the day, is she not?" Mohan

asked, smiling broadly.
"My mother has always said Miss

Alex would. In time. And with
the right man."

He didn't want to think about
the possibilities. Not in any

sense directly connected to
Alex, anyway. "How many wives

does your father have?"

"When I left India, he
had four. And a dozen mistresses.

He is a very wealthy man.
With, as I understand what you

have told me today, much of
the man's drives."

Sixteen women at his beck and
call? Sixteen
to
keep

pleased? "God, I guess.
Either that or he's just plain crazy."

"You will say nothing of
your knowledge of this future to

Miss Alex, will you?"

He blinked, pulled from his
imaginings. "Why? Is it a secret?"

Mohan knitted his brows and
pursed his lips. After a moment

he said, "I think so
.
It is a
matter never spoken of in the

presence of Miss Alex."
He brightened a bit to add, "I spoke

of it now only because I like
you and do not wish you to

build hopes for something that
you cannot have. I do not

want to see you disappointed
at their collapse."

In certain respects, it
.
was too
late for that. ''Thanks,'' he

groused.

"You are upset"

"Not about anything in
particular," Aiden lied, starting

down the walkway again.
"It's just been a helluva day so far,

Mohan. One helluva day."

"And it is very early
yet."

Yes, it was. And if the rest
of it went as the hours just past,

he'd have to seriously think
about shooting himself. God,

what a damn inconvenient time
not only to remember that

he'd been raised to be a
gentleman, but also to remember

what had to be the one and
only scrap of useful information

his father had ever given him.
He'd opened a door with Alex

he shouldn't have. How the
hell he was going to get it shut

again without hurting her
feelings or insulting her
...

Christ, doing the right thing
would be ever so much easier if

he even remotely wanted to do
it.

Chapter 10

It was the third stop of what
Alex was coming to think of as

their tour of London's highs,
lows, and in-betweens. The

first place had been a rather
seedy boardinghouse where

Aiden had gone to look for a man
named O'Brien. No explanation

had been given as to why they
were looking for

him; not as they'd alighted from
the carriage and not as

they'd climbed back in without
having seen him.

The second stop had been the
offices of Barrett Stanbridge.

Only Quincy had been there and
he'd been none too

happy to see them all traipsing
in to deposit three-day-old

snow on the anteroom carpet.
Aiden had spoken with him in

hushed tones and Quincy had
gestured wildly to a stack of

papers on his desk before
throwing his hands up in a gesture

of obvious frustration. Aiden had
growled in response, then

marched them all back to the
carriage. Again without an explanation:

He'd sat silent, the reins
in
hand and
frowning, for

a few moments before sighing and
then resolutely setting

them in motion.

Now Alex stood on the front walk
of a huge brick mansion,

waiting patiently for Mohan to
finish assisting Preeya

from their carriage.

"It's a beautiful
house," she ventured, hoping he'd finally

say something, anything, that
might give her some idea of

what they were about.

"Carden's an earl and an
architect:' he supplied, offering

his arm. "Seraphina's a
well-known artist. It's amazing what

one can do with unlimited amounts
of money and talent,

isn't it?"

Carden, the man for whom Sawyer
worked and who was

currently in Egypt, she recalled.
This was the place where

Aiden had been living prior to
being sent to guard Mohan?

"The Blue Elephant must seem
like a hovel to you," she

posed, feeling decidedly out of
her element.

"Not
in the least," he assured her as he led their
procession

toward the front door. ''The Blue
Elephant's charming and

comfortable in a way I
 
didn't know a house could be."

"You certainly didn't think
that at first sight."

His cheeks colored slightly.
''Well,'' he drawled, "I'll admit

that all the colors, all the
touches of India, were a bit off -

putting at first, but I've come
to like and appreciate it. Quite

a lot, actually."

"Why?" she pressed,
determined to know whether he was

being honest or merely polite.

"I don't know," he
answered, leading her up the steps.

From the other side of the
massive door came the unmistakable