The Perfect Temptation (36 page)

smoothly if he didn't take
offense, Barrett smiled and started

pacing again. "I'm
thinking that she might be able to help

me find where Lord Westerham's
silver went and perhaps

even get it back before Lady
Westerham returns from Paris

to discover it's gone and
starts asking questions that his

lordship would really prefer
not to answer."

"Well, if he'd been a
little more careful in who he brought

home and dropped his trousers
for, he wouldn't be in this

particular mess."

''True
.
But that
doesn't change the fact that he needs his

silverware back. And is willing
to pay whatever expense is

involved to get it." He
looked over to meet Aiden's gaze.

"Do you
think:
Alex
Radford would be able to help in that regard?"

It was a logical request. Of a
person who was in a position

to better solve the problem
than anyone else they knew.

He wasn't particularly happy
with the idea of Alex taking on

the task but understood that it
wasn't his right to make the

decision. "You'll have to
ask her."

"You'd let me?"

The surprise, the suppressed
laughter irritated
him
anew.

Aiden glared at him. "I'm
her guard, not her keeper, Barrett."

His friend tilted his head to
the side and considered
him

somberly for a long moment
before carefully asking. "May I

give you a piece of personal
advice, John Aiden? As one

friend to another?"

"No."

"Well," Barrett
drawled with a bare shrug, "I have to anyway.

Conscience being the nastily
persistent thing it is and

all."

"I don't want to hear
it," Aiden announced, unfolding his

arms and coming off the stall.
He'd taken two steps toward

the stable door when Barrett
blocked his path.

"You don't really have a choice,"
Barrett said, sounding surprisingly-

regretful. "Your sweet
Mary Alice is dead,

Aiden." He went on
blocking his attempt to step around him.

''There's nothing you can do to
change that."

Aiden gritted his teeth and
resolved himself to enduring

the lecture
.
The
sooner it was done, the sooner he could walk

away and forget it. "I
assume there's more," he growled,

meeting his friend's searching
gaze. ''There always is."

Barrett nodded slowly.
"Look, John Aiden," he said

kindly, "it's not a
dastardly betrayal of her memory for you

to find Alex attractive. Hell,
if you didn't, I'd be worried

about you. Nine-tenths of the
reason I sent you off with her

was because I
 
was hoping she'd be the perfect
temptation for

you. And I'm glad-no, I'm
over-the-moon happy-that she

apparently is. Just remember:
Sex is certainly nice, but it's

just sex. It's nothing more
than that."
.

Aiden's stomach was knotted and
his pulse pounded

through a tumult of jumbled,
heated emotions. Anger. Hurt.

Regret. And most frighteningly,
an overwhelming, soaring

sense of relief. "You're
treading the line, Barrett;' he warned,

hoping it would be enough to
make Barrett drop the matter

entirely. "Be careful.
There are limits to friendship."

"I know that I'm
pushing," his friend replied solemnly.

"If
I didn't think it important, I wouldn't take the
chance.

But I'm not sure that the
distinctions between lust and obligation

are really all that clear to
you these days. They have

to be, John Aiden. I
 
need to know
that
you've
finally regained

a solid, healthy perspective on
things."

"Why?" Aiden
demanded.

"Because the last time you
fancied a woman," his friend

retorted, “You damn near got
yourself killed for the wonder

of riding her."

Anger surged through him. But
so did the feeling of being

utterly besieged. "You're
over the line now," he declared, his

voice rough with barely
contained desperation.

"And the choice to cross
it was deliberate," Barrett said

even more kindly, even more
regretfully. "I'm also afraid that

you expect Alexandra Radford to
step into Mary Alice Randolph's

shoes and take up the grand and
glorious illusion

where the love of your life
dropped it. Bed Alex if you want

to-and God knows you'd be human
if you do-but understand

that you don't have to marry
her for the privilege.

"Never love a woman more
than you love yourself, John

Aiden. Never. Keep your head
firmly on your shoulders and

your wits about you. Tell me
that you can do that with

Alexandra Radford and I'll
leave you alone. I'll never mention

any of this again."

Jesus Christ! That's what all
this had
.
been about? It was

about what he was thinking in
wanting to bed Alex?

"I know the difference
between love and sex, Barrett," he

said firmly. "I don't love
Alex. Yes, I
 
like her and find her
an

interesting person. Yes, I'll
admit to wanting to
bed
her. I

think about it all the time,
actually. But I have no fanciful illusions

as to what she means to me
beyond that and no intentions

whatsoever of offering her
forever. My head is

firmly on my shoulders and I
have full possession of my

wits. You don't need to worry
about me. Thank you for doing

so, but it's not
necessary."

Barrett visibly relaxed as he
expelled a hard breath. His

smile was apologetic. "I
do believe you might have turned an

important corner. Thank God."

Aiden shook his head in
amazement and walked past his

friend saying, "Dinner's
probably ready."

He'd been set up. So had Alex.
Barrett had deliberately

put the two of them together,
hoping he'd want to seduce her

and willing to sacrifice Alex
in the name of ... In the name

of what? Aiden wondered,
leading the way toward the kitchen

and the washbasin. For what
grand and glorious cause was

Alex supposed to surrender her
virtue? So he could feel better?

To draw
him
back into
the world where bedding women

was nothing more than an
evening's casual pastime?

Absolutely nothing about Alex
was casual. And, Barrett's

hopes be damned, he liked her
just the way she was and

wouldn't change one damn thing
about her even if he could.

Alex couldn't recall any other time
when she'd been so

grateful to see a meal come to
an end. Maintaining a steady,

smooth flow of conversation had
been excruciatingly difficult.

Barrett had certainly held up
his end of the effort but

Mohan had been occupied with
translating for Preeya and

Preeya had been too busy
listening and watching to contribute

anything. And Aiden ...

Aiden had been largely lost in
his own thoughts. Every

single time they'd tried to
draw him into their conversation,

the question had had to be
repeated. And then his answers

and observations had been so
skeletal that they'd eventually

given up trying. Asking
him
what
troubled
him
had produced

only a shrug and a terse
assurance that it wasn't at
all

significant.

Alex rose from the table,
intending to gather up the remaining

plates and follow Preeya and
Mohan down to the

sanctuary of the kitchen. At
least the three of them wouldn't

be at a loss for something to
talk about.

"Miss Radford?"
Barrett said as she picked up her plate.

"I'm wondering if perhaps
you might be able to help me

with something."

She paused.
"If
I
can."

From the inside pocket of his
suit coat he removed a butter

knife and handed it to her
asking, "What can you tell me

about this particular piece of
silver?"

"It's sterling," she
supplied, thinking that this was the

oddest after-dinner exchange
she'd ever had with a man.

Aiden was standing beside his
friend, staring off into the

distance as he had throughout
dinner.

''The pattern is simply called
'Fiddle' for obvious reasons,"

she went on. "It's a
fairly popular one these days. You

can tell by the feel of it that
it's extremely well crafted."

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