The Perfect Temptation (61 page)

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Authors: Leslie LaFoy

BOOK: The Perfect Temptation
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She paused
.to scratch
Tippy behind her right ear, say, "We

will pick this up tomorrow where we've left
it. Be a good

dog while I'm gone," and then headed
for the foyer and the

cloak tree.

 

Tippy
followed her
departure with a notably forlorn and

disappointed
look. Walking
past the animal; Aiden muttered,

 

Me too, girl."

 

How incredibly right her mother had been
about the combination

of men and horses, Alex mused, grinning, as
they

cantered through the twilight, side by side.
Riding at a walk

was
comfortable and
the gentle roll to the gait was a bit like

flirting from opposite sides of a crowded
room. There was a

vaguely carnal promise to it, but it was
distant at best. The

vagueness, she'd discovered that first day
of instruction, dis
appeared

when the horse broke over into a trot. The
rhythm

was clipped, but undeniably sensual in a
somewhat rugged

sort of way.
It
was a prelude; rather like the first moments

after locking
the door and
trying to discard layers of cloth-

while kissing.

 

Cantering, though ... Oh, Lord, cantering
was her fa
vorite

gait: It was easy and smooth and always made
her

think of Alden and the erotic pleasures to
be had once they

tumbled down together. Alex chuckled softly.
He hadn't let

her
gallop
the horse yet, but she suspected that she was going

to enjoy that even more than the cantering.

 

Yes, riding was indeed dangerous for a woman
committed

to sterling virtue. Riding with a man like
John Aiden Terrell

was especially so. And she wished she'd
taken it up sooner

than she had.

 

Beside her, Aiden raised his hand in silent
signal and Alex

reined in her mount, mindful of the rules
he'd laid down the

first day: they were to walk their horses
for the last block

and, as they neared the comer and the rear
yard of the Blue

Elephant came into sight, she was to fall
slightly back so that

he preceded her into the open space. Why,
she didn't know.

 

He hadn't explained and she hadn't
questioned. It was the

way he wanted it done and she trusted him
and acceded.

 

How far they'd come since that first day,
she mused.

 

Alex studied his back as he moved ahead. Her
heart both

melted and twisted as it did every night at
this time. For

three straight days she'd watched the sun
drop toward the

rooftops and hoped that Aiden would suggest
that they stay

at Haven House for the night, for eternity.
If
the gods demanded

all she had, all that she was, for a forever
with him,

she'd pay it and never regret the decision.
But he hadn't

asked and he never would. The ghost of Mary
Alice Randolph

didn't leave any room
in
his heart for her.

 

It wasn't good or kind to envy and resent a
dead woman,

but she did. Mary Alice couldn't make Aiden
laugh anymore,

couldn't make
him
gasp and moan
in
pleasure. She

couldn't be his wife or the mother of his
children. That Aiden

clung to "what was" and "what
might have been" so tenaciously.

 

Alex swallowed down the tears tickling her
throat,

reminding herself that what he could give
was all that he

could give and that it would have to be
enough. She couldn't

change his past, couldn't change him,
couldn't make
him

love her more than he loved his Mary Alice.

 

Ahead of her, to the accompaniment of the
peacocks'

high-pitched heralding, he
rode
into the yard and reined his

horse to a halt in the pale shadows at the
front of the stable.

 

Alex did the same, and as he swung down and
strode back to

assist her in dismounting, she deliberately
put away her

melancholy and summoned a smile for him.

 

''Time to come back to earth," he said,
reaching up and

slipping his hands around her waist.

 

"I don't want to," Alex admitted
even as she placed her

hands on his shoulders and leaned out.
"Let's take a ride in

the moonlight. It's not that cold." She
glanced toward the

kitchen and noted the bright light spilling
through the windows.

 

"Preeya's still preparing dinner. We
have time."

 

He set her on her feet in front of
him
and loosely wrapped

her in his arms. "You make the little
voice of common sense

hard to hear, darling."

 

"It's not me," she countered,
smiling up at him, twining

her fingers through the hair at his nape.
"It's the peacocks."

 

He laughed and she added, "What would
be the harm,

Aiden? I don't want to go back inside. Not
yet."

 

He kissed her lightly and quickly; a
prelude, she knew, to

refusal. ''Then keep me company while I put
away the horses,"

he offered as he stepped back and
eased
her arms from around

his neck.

 

It was the best reprieve she was going to
get and she knew

it. Better a little more time alone
together, she consoled herself

as she drew the reins over her horse's head,
than none at

all.

 

The reins of his own mount in hand, Aiden
reached for

the door latch and froze. Alex abruptly
halted behind 'him,

puzzled. "What is it, Aiden?"

 

"I closed the latches when we left this
morning," he

replied, drawing the gun from the small of
his back. "Move

off and put that horse between you and the
doorway."

 

"Maybe Sawyer took the carriage out
while we were

gone," she posed even as she stepped to
the other side of her

mount, partially obeying his command.
Looking under the

animal's neck, she added, "And forgot
to
latch the doors

when he returned."

 

He shook his head while pushing his horse
to
the side.
"If

this goes badly, get on that horse and get
to Barrett's as fast

as you can."

 

Alex didn't argue with him, didn't tell him
that, no matter

what happened, she wouldn't leave
him.
His mind needed to

be focused on what lay ahead.
not
what might happen
be
hind

him. He reached for the handle with his left
hand and

 

Alex drew a deep breath and held it, her
heart racing and her

pulse skittering. She didn't hear the door
open, but she felt

the rush of air.

 

And then reality twisted and shifted, the
images and realization.

somehow both lightning
fast
and excruciatingly slow

as they tumbled, in heart-wrenching detail,
one over the other.

 

Aiden,
his
gun
in
hand, searching
in the shadows. The quick

movement on
his
left. Aiden's curse.
Hanuman.
His clothes

bloodied, his face contorted with rage and
determination. The

feral snarl, the dull glint of bloody steel
as
he charged Aiden.

 

"No!" she shouted in Hindi,
dashing from behind her

horse. "It's me you want!"

 

The hatred
in
his eyes as his gaze met hers, as he turned

the direction of his attack. The bright fire
of explosion and

the choking smoke. And Hanuman staggering
backward, the

rage still in his eyes, the blade arcing
harmlessly down and

then slipping from his fingers as the
darkness spread across

the center of his chest.

 

As he crumpled into the straw, time clicked
and settled.

 

Perception, however, remained slightly
askew. Alex couldn't

feel herself moving, but could see that she
was. She could

hear her heart thundering, but it seemed to
come from a

great
distance.
Hanuman lay sprawled on the floor, gazing

up at the rafters. his vision unfocused, his
breathing shallow

and irregular, each labored exhalation
producing a bubble of

blood between his lips. Her uncle, she
realized dully. Her

uncle had meant to kill her, to
kill
Aiden to get to her.

 

She watched as Aiden kicked the sword away
and knelt

down to snatch Hanuman's blood-soaked
shirtfront with his

free hand. Lifting the limp form slightly,
he leaned forward

to growl, "Where's Vadeen?"

 

A haunted look and another bubble of blood
were

Hanuman's only response. Aiden lowered him
back to the

floor
and
rose to his feet. "Look in that line of stalls, Alex,"

be
instructed,
pointing to those
on
his left
as
he quickly

moved to check those on his right.
"He's here or close by."

 

She went, mindlessly and mechanically,
vaguely aware of

Hanuman's sudden silence and her stomach
coldly churning.

 

The
mercy of the
dullness ended suddenly as she pulled

open a stall door and gazed down on the
slashed and bloodied

Indian propped against the inside wall.

 

''Aiden!'' she called, dropping
to
her
knees
and pressing

her fingers to the side of the man's neck,
desperately searching

for the telltale thrum of life.
It
was
there; just
barely. His

eyelids fluttered and opened just as Aiden
slid into the stall

and went to his knees beside her.

 

"Christ Almighty," he said softly,
as
he made a quick inspection

of the wounds to his
arm,
legs, and side. Vadeen

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