The Perfect Temptation

by Leslie LaFoy

  Turning it over, she looked at the back side of the handle.

  "Ah, James Ross's mark. He's one of the more noted silversmiths

  in Glasgow. That makes it an expensive piece." She

  turned it back to the front and then returned it 'to him,

  adding, "Unfortunately, the monogram reduces the trading

  value by a good bit."

  "Would you happen to have any matching pieces to this

  one?"

  Why would Barrett · Stanbridge want pieces of silver

  monogrammed with a W? she wondered. And how ... ?

  Alex knitted her brows, considering him, suspicion niggling

  at her mind. "How is it," she finally ventured, "that you

  know I deal in silver, Mr. Stanbridge? How did you know to

  bring a butter knife with you tonight?"

  Aiden shifted on his feet, threw a quick look her way, and

  then went back to his contemplation of the far wall.

  Barrett smiled. "I was telling my mother over dinner the

  other evening that John Aiden was working with you and she

  mentioned that a friend of hers had purchased some replacement

  pieces for her formal set from you. Luncheon forks, I

  believe she said."

  She couldn't recall any such transaction. Warily, she prodded,

  "And you're looking for replacement pieces for this

  set?"

  "Actually, this is the only piece that I have at the moment.

  I'm looking for the rest of the set that goes with it."

  And he thought she had it? The implication was clear and

  it made her angry. Aiden didn't look at her, but he shifted his

  stance again and took a long, slow breath. It might have been

  wordless, but it was an admission if she'd ever seen one.

  None of this conversation was coming as a surprise to him.

  Was the knowledge of Barrett's suspicions what had preoccupied

  him during dinner? Did he suspect her of trading in

  stolen silver, too?

  No, she instantly admitted. He knew her better than that.

  He would have dismissed the possibility out of hand. Had he

  been worrying that she would feel insulted and hurt and angry?

  He was right, but the apparent fact that he'd known how

  she'd react was most decidedly to his credit.

  Deciding there was nothing to do but to address the matter

  squarely, she faced his friend and bluntly inquired, "Was

  the rest of the set you're looking for by any chance stolen?"

  His smile studiously pleasant and his brow twitching ever

  so slightly, Barrett explained smoothly, "A recent guest of

  Lord Westerham walked off with it while he was sleeping.

  Lady Westerham is due back from Paris before the week is

  out and he'd prefer to avoid having to explain its absence."

  "And he's hired you to find the set in time," she guessed.

  "And I, in turn," he said before she could ask her next

  question, "would like to hire you for the task. Would you be

  willing to consider it? The finder's fee is considerable."

  "So is the risk," Aiden said quietly, meeting her gaze.

  "Understand that if you decide to accept Barrett's offer, you

  won't go looking without me."

  There were so many emotions in his eyes. Irritation. Resolve.

  It was the depth of his regret and embarrassment that

  spoke the loudest, though. He didn't like this at all. Not one

  little bit. "And who would guard Mohan in your absence?"

  she asked, thinking that he might be wanting her to provide

  them an excuse to evade the task. "He's most certainly not

  going with us. Not where we have to go and not among the

  kinds of people we'll have to meet."

  He nodded and gave his friend a tight smile. "The boy

  needs a riding suit and a decent pair of boots. You can see to

  getting him outfitted while Alex and I are conducting your

  investigation."

  "I suppose-"

  "Good:' Aiden declared, cutting him off and effectively

  out of the conversation. "Is tomorrow all right with you, Alex?

  The sooner it's done, the better."

  She sensed that his desire to have the task behind them

  had nothing whatsoever to do with Lord Westerham's desperation.

  ''There's an auction at Christie's I had hoped to attend

  in the morning but given the circumstances, I-"

  "I don't see any reason why you should miss it." he interjected.

  "We'll go and then see what we can do about finding

  the missing silver. We'll make a day of it. Barrett will cover

  any of our incidental expenses." He turned to his friend.

  "Won't you? And the cost of the silver when we find it."

  "If we find it," she corrected before Barrett could answer.

  ''There's a reasonable chance that it's been melted down. The

  monogram makes it both more identifiable as stolen and more

  difficult to sell. Even unscrupulous buyers have certain standards.

  A monogram matching their own surname initial being

  a primary one. Whoever acquired it from the thief would have

  a better chance of a faster profit in melting it all down and

  moving it back into production. When was it stolen?"

  "A fortnight ago," Barrett supplied.

  Well before she'd met either one of them. They'd had to

  have begun looking for it immediately. Had to have developed

  a list of people they suspected of having purchased it

  from the thief. Had she been on that list? Aiden had a good

  many answers to provide. God help him if they weren't good

  ones.

  "We'll be diligent in our efforts," she told Barrett. "But I

  think it's only fair to warn you that the odds of finding the

  set intact are very slim, Mr. Stanbridge. If I might make a

  suggestion?" She didn't wait for his permission. "If we can

  find a set of Ross Fiddle without monograms, they could be

  engraved and Lady Westerham might never know the difference."

  "How likely is it that you'll find even a plain set?"

  She smiled weakly. "I hope Lord Westerham isn't holding

  his breath and has somewhere else to live. If you'd come

  to me for help the day it was stolen, you'd have had a far better

  chance than you do now."

  "I didn't know then that you could be of help. I sincerely

  wish I had."

  No, at the time he'd considered her suspect. A fence. A

  dealer in stolen goods. Had Aiden thought of her in a similar

  light? He had asked her about stolen silver that day Polly

  had brought in the set of Roberts and Belk. Had his question

  been an idle one based on passing curiosity as he'd said? Or

  had it been grounded in genuine suspicion?

  "Well, as much as I hate to eat and dash," Barrett announced,

  "I really must be going. Having been gone from the

  office for the better part of a week, I'm behind in my paperwork

  and desperately need to catch up as quickly as possible.

  Thank you for the lovely dinner, Miss Radford. My compliments

  to Preeya."

  "I'll see you out," Aiden offered crisply. "What time is

  the auction tomorrow, Alex?"

  "It starts at nine in the morning," she provided, feeling almost

  sorry for Barrett. Aiden was angry and she suspected

  that his friend was going to get a solid lashing the moment

  they w
ere alone. "We should leave here by eight to get a

  number and good seats."

  "You have a lot of midnight oil to burn, Bare." He motioned

  toward the dining room door. "You probably shouldn't

  tarry another moment."

  Barrett took a step in that direction before he paused and

  offered her a slight bow. ''Thank you for being willing to

  help me with the investigation, Miss Radford. I trust you to

  come up with a solution one way or another. And to further

  that end, I'll be here well before eight tomorrow morning."

  She nodded her acceptance of it all and watched him

  walk away. Aiden, glowering at his friend's back, followed.

  He'd reached the threshold before she couldn't stand the wondering

  any longer.

  "Aiden? Before you go, might I-"

  He wheeled around and came back, stopping only when

  he was standing in front of her, so close that she had to tilt

  her head to meet his gaze. "Yes," he said firmly, "you were a

  suspect. And yes, he asked me to look into the possibility. I

  did only because I knew he'd turn up and press the issue just

  as he did. But I knew the truth before I even broached the

  subject, Alex. You don't have a dishonest, deceitful bone in

  your beautiful body. Not one. Anyone who knows you knows

  that."

  She believed him. To the center of her honest, reputedly

  beautiful bones. And she wanted, just as deeply, to slip her

  arms around his narrow waist and hug him tightly. Resisting

  the urge, she said instead, "I should be offended that I was

  ever under even the slightest suspicion."

  The tension in him disappeared in an instant, replaced by

  an impish smile and slightly cocked brow. "Should be?"

  It was impossible to even pretend to be angry with him.

  And no real reason to, either. "I think we're even."

  "You had suspicions of me?"

  "Not so much suspicions," she admitted, "as unflattering

  assumptions."

  "Such as?"

  It was amazing how easily he could lift her mood, how

  effortlessly he could banish even the darkest thoughts. Just

  by being himself. She smiled up at him and slowly shook her

  head in appreciative wonder. "I thought you were uncommonly

  arrogant for being a toady."

  "A toady?"

  His amusement prompted her to add to her confession.

  ''And that you were no gentleman."

  "Well," he drawled, his smile quirking, "since I do actually

  work at that when I remember to, I'll allow you that one

  as being fairly accurate."

  "I also thought that you were a brazen rogue, an unabashed

  hedonist."

  "I certainly can be," he admitted, his eyes twinkling. "If

  you're attracted to that sort of man."

  Had temptation ever been wrapped in a package more

  handsome and captivating than Aiden Terrell?

  "You are, aren't you?"

  Her heart shot into her throat as her blood sang with hope

  and desire. Dear God, when he smiled like that her good

  judgment turned to pudding. "No," she managed to lie. She

  moistened her lower lip and then raggedly, honestly, added,

  ''Not as a general rule."

  "If you also assumed that I'm exceptional," he whispered

  with a wink, "you'd be right."

  She didn't have a doubt. Not even the tiniest one. Not

  about him. "I'm sure you are," she agreed breathlessly.

  "However, such magnificent abilities would be utterly

  wasted on someone like me."

  She saw astonishment flicker in his eyes, saw him swallow

  and take a slow, even breath. The roguish edge slipped

  away from his smile. "If Barrett wasn't likely to come back

  through that door at any moment looking for me," he said

  softly, "I'd prove you wrong right here on the spot."

  Alex summoned every shred of her tattered common

  sense to keep her arms at her sides. "No one is ever going to

  accuse you of lacking self-confidence."

  His good humor unaffected, he shrugged and eased away,

  saying, "We'll address your lack of it when I get back."

  A vivid image, intoxicatingly carnal, instantly filled her

  mind. "No we won't," she countered hastily. "I'll bid you

  good night now, Aiden."

  He stopped and slowly turned. The look in his eyes stole

  her breath and filled her with heart-thundering certainty.

  "What about Barrett?" she reminded him as he came back

  to her.

  "He can wait," he replied, slipping one arm around her

  waist, the other around her shoulders. He drew her closer

  and, his gaze searching hers, lowered his head.

  It wasn't a light, tentative kiss as the others had been.

  No, this one was slowly, heatedly deliberate and undeniably

  possessive. Her senses instantly, blissfully reeling, Alex

  wrapped her arms around his waist and melted against him,

  abandoning reserve and surrendering conscious thought.

  When he traced her lips with his tongue, she sighed with

  pleasure and granted him admission. When his arms tightened

  around her and he tasted more deeply, she clung to

  him, reveling in waves of heady sensation. And when she

  boldly sought a taste of him in return, his moan swept

  through her like liquid fire, igniting a hunger that pulsed and

  flared through every fiber of her being.

  From the farthest recesses of his awareness came the tiny

  voice of reason warning that he was teetering on the edge,

  telling him that he had to do the right thing, had to let her

  consciously choose to tumble into oblivion with him. It hurt

  to heed the wisdom, but he forced himself to ease his claim

  to her mouth and shift her in his arms. Holding her close, her

  head tucked under his chin, he sucked in greedy breaths and

  marveled at the furious beat of his heart.

  God, she was the most amazing woman. His abilities

  wasted on her? He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent

  of her hair. Never. Such genuine acceptance, such a complete

  lack of artifice. It was so utterly, extraordinarily foreign

  to his experience. He craved more of her. All of her. He

  could only hope that she didn't reduce him to a pile of smoldering

  ash. And if she did ... Aiden smiled, knowing that

  she was worth that risk and ever so much more.

  But his conscience spoke the truth. The choice to give was

  hers to make. Sweeping her unknowingly past the point of no

  return wasn't right. She deserved respect and he'd honor her

  even if it killed him to let her go. He opened his eyes and deliberately

  focused on the world around them, on the reality of

  where they were and the tasks needing to be done.

  "I have to leave. Now," he whispered, his voice rough, his

  hands gentle as he set her from him and steadied her on her

  feet. He trailed his fingertips along the curve of her shoulders,

  up the slim column of her neck. Her pulse thrummed

  beneath them and almost undid his resolve. Clinging to the

  tattered remnants of it, he stepped away and let his hands fall

  to his sides.

  Her eyes were inviting shadows as she looked up at him

&nb
sp; and his heart wrenched at the sacrifice. "Yes, now," he said,

  more for himself than her. "Or I won't be able to go at all.

  Good night, Alex."

  Alex choked back a cry of protest. Then there was only

  the thundering of her heart and the desperate, aching want in

  the center of her soul as she watched him leave. And in those

  moments a realization budded and bloomed full. For as long

  as she could remember, she'd lived one day at a time, fulfilling

  the expectations of others as best she could and always

  assuring herself that someday there would come a reward

  for enduring. That reward, a tangible thing she could hold,

  would magically make all the loneliness, all the emptiness

  of the days that had gone before, .worth bearing.

  Alex stared into the shadows of the hall. She'd never

  known, never guessed that it was possible to feel as magnificently

  alive as she did now. How incredibly naive she had

  been. The reward wasn't a thing at all; it was a feeling from

  deep within her. It was joy and wonder and a wanting to dare

  to reach for more. It was in discovering a vibrant path, in

  making the journey. Where it ended ... Alex took a steadying

  breath. Where it ended didn't matter nearly as much as

  being able to travel along it-even for just a short while with