The Perfect Temptation (45 page)

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Authors: Leslie LaFoy

BOOK: The Perfect Temptation
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She's a half-caste. You're
slipping, Terrell. You used to be

one of the best at seeing through
pretenses and
facades."

 

"You, on the other
hand," Aiden countered, "have always

been and remain to this day a
complete ass."

 

''I
do, however, have standards." He leaned closer,
lowered

his voice, and looked back toward
Alex. "But I might

consider making some temporary
allowances for her. She

looks positively delicious. Is
she?"

 

Anger, white and searing, shot
through him. His hands

balled into fists, he required
every shred of his quivering

self-restraint to keep them at
his sides. Slowly, so there was

no mistaking the line being
drawn, he said, "You've stepped

past decency and this
conversation is over."

 

Ever the undaunted brick, he
posed, "When you decide

you're bored with her ... I've
got a Frenchie at the moment.

 

We could trade."

 

Trade?
As though Alex were a horse or a hunting dog?

 

Turning and walking away before
he lost what little control

he possessed, Aiden tossed over
his shoulder, "Go to hell,

Geoff."

 

"Damn you, Terrell. Always
the businessman."

 

Businessman?
Christ Almighty. What did that have to do

with anything? Aiden walked on,
shaking his head, and
will
ing

his anger down. Geoffrey wasn't
just an ass, he was a

first-rate ass. But as sorely
tempting as it was, putting him in

his place wasn't worth the pain
of split knuckles.

 

"All right. A business
proposition," Walker-Hines said,

trotting up and falling in beside
him again. "After the game.

 

Ten minutes, ten pounds. That's a
pound a minute for her.

 

While you ride Rose for free.
What do you say?"

 

Say?
He was well beyond words, well beyond enraged.

 

He stopped dead, and as
Walker-Hines skittered and turned

back, Aiden swung his fist.
It
connected
with a satisfying

crunch of flesh against flesh,
bone against bone. The ass

landed on his, howling and
spitting blood and teeth into his

lap.

 

Aiden absently flexed his fingers
and leaned down. "Stay

well away from my lady.
If
I ever see
you within ten meters

of her, I'll geld you right then
and there. You'll wish I'd

killed you. That's a promise,
Geoff. Remember it."

 

Walker-Hines was struggling back
to his feet when Aiden

turned on his heel and walked
away, resuming his course

across the field toward his
teammates.
My lady.
He glanced

back over his shoulder. Alex was
standing beside their

coach, obviously listening to the
three women who stood in

semicircle before her.
In
seeing his
attention, she smiled

and waved. He waved in return,
then faced back to his teammates

and. grinning. broke into a trot.

 

She was an incredible woman. And
out of
all
the men in

the world, she'd chosen him. His
lady. Her lover. Soon.

 

Damn.
life was good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

"Oh, Aiden," she whispered as he
dropped onto the opposite

seat and they started toward the sanity of
home.

 

He grinned, pulled a strand of dried, muddy
grass from

his hair and said.
''A
hot bath and I'll be as irresistible as

ever," as he leaned over and tossed it
out the carriage window.

 

"It's not the mud that concerns
me," she countered, leaning

forward
to
take his chin gently in hand. Ignoring his

cocked brow and his rakish smile, she turned
his face so that

the right side was angled into the fading
afternoon light.

 

"Your cheek is skinned. So is the
cornel; of your jaw."

 

''They don't hurt."

 

Alex ignored his assertion and went on with
her appraisal.

 

Releasing his chin, she took his open collar
and pulled it

slightly aside. "Your shoulder's
scraped, as well."

 

"Really? Never felt a thing. Still
don't."

 

Heaven only knew what damage had been done
through

the cloth, damage that she couldn't readily
see. At least there

weren't any obviously broken bones, she
consoled herself as

she swept her gaze down the length of his arms.
"Aiden!"

she cried, cradling and lifting his right
hand, horrified by the

wide, bloody, dirt-encrusted splits across
the first three

knuckles.

 

"I'll admit that those smart
some."

 

"And you wanted to know if I allowed
Mohan to play this

beastly game. And calling it a game is being
generous. I've

never seen such a long and constant stream
of utter chaos

and deliberate violence."

 

He grinned. "We won."

 

"Is that worth getting yourself
battered and torn?" she

asked, gingerly placing his injured hand on
his knee and resuming

her assessment.

 

"Well, yes.
On
two counts," he countered buoyantly.
''The

first being that today was the only defeat
Blackthorn's been

given in over four years. That's no small
accomplishment.

 

And the second is that I need a bit of minor
doctoring.

 

There's some potential in that."

 

"Potential for what?" she asked,
meeting his gaze, her

brow arched. "More pain?"

 

Amid the dirt stains and the smears of dried
blood, his eyes

twinkled with mischief. "Pleasure,
actually. Especially when

we get to the part where you kiss everything
to make it better."

 

"You are such an optimist," she
teased, amazed by the resiliency

of his spirit.

 

"Not really. I know that you have the
biggest, softest

heart
in
England." His smile mellowed and he added,

 

"Thank you for being a good sport about
the game and the

time it took, Alex. I used to play
practically every day. Having

another go at it ... It felt like yesterday,
like the last two

years hadn't happened. That was nice."

 

''Then I'll allow that it was worth the
scrapes and cuts,"

she admitted, her heart wishing that he
could have that kind

of peace all the time, wishing she had the
power to give
him

that gift.

 

Leaning his head back onto the cushion, he
gazed up at

the ceiling of the carriage as his smile faded.
"If
you could

go back in your life and erase one thing
you've done, Alex,

what would it be?"

 

He was thinking of his Mary Alice, of his
ship and crew

and
all
the losses he hadn't been able to prevent. She

searched her brain, sorting through memories,
desperately

hoping to find something of equal magnitude
to share with

him, something that would let him know that
he wasn't the

only one in the world who bore the burden of
remorse.

 

"I can't
think
of anything," she finally, sadly, had to admit.

 

His gaze snapped down to hers. "You
have, absolutely no

regrets in your life? None?”

 

'Well, regretting something I've done rather
depends on

when I look back." she explained.
"A month ago I would

have said that I regretted having come to
England with Mohan.

 

If
I hadn’t, there
wouldn't
be
a difficult
decision to

make about returning to India or staying
here. Looking back

today, though ...
If
I hadn't come to England, I never would

have met you. That outweighs everything
else. So rather than

regretting coming here, I'm now very glad
that I did."

 

"You still have the decision to
make."

 

"Yes," she admitted. "but
that doesn't change the fact that

 

I'm now glad I came to England. Knowing you
is a greater

pleasure than the decision is a
difficulty."

 

He considered her for a long moment and then
shook his

head, saying, "You have the most unique
way of looking at

life, Alex.
If
it's even possible, it's going to take me a while

and a good deal of thought to see matters
your way."

 

Another puzzle for him to solve.
"Heaven help me. Has

anyone ever mentioned that you tend to
be
something of a

rat terrier?"

 

"If
you think I'm
bad," he countered, chuckling softly,

"you should see my father."

 

He spoke of him so seldom, but always with
strong feeling.

 

Alex debated silently for a few seconds and
then decided

that the greater kindness was to intrude. As
gently but

as firmly as possible. "You know,
Aiden, it's obvious that

you really do like your father. At some
point, you should

probably make an effort to breach the gap
that's come between

you.
If
you don't, it could well be another of your regrets."

 

With a dismissive nod and shrug, he grinned
and countered,

 

"But it isn't one today.
If
I hadn't stumbled to London

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