Read The Perfect Temptation Online
Authors: Leslie LaFoy
will pass that view on to others,
compounding the misunderstanding.
Surely, you don't want-"
"I want to go home," he
interrupted. "Now. Today."
Of course he did. What child
wouldn't want to be with
his parents, his brothers and
sisters, his aunts, uncles, and
cousins? "I can understand
that, Mohan," she offered sincerely.
"I truly can. Hopefully soon
your-"
"I command you to make the
necessary arrangements."
"I will not," Alex
rejoined, her sympathy for him withering
under the increasing heat of her
anger.
Patience,
she
silently instructed herself.
Patience.
"England is full of dirty
people."
She took a deep breath and
counted to five. "You've seen
little of England outside of
London," she calmly reminded
him. 'Therefore, your statement
is an opinion based on nothing
more than ignorance. I'll further
point out that dirty people are found all over the world and that India too has
its
allotted share."
He snorted and tilted up his
nose. "I never saw any in
India."
'That," she snapped, her
toleration completely undone, "is
because you lived in a royal
palace and dirty people weren't
allowed in. Is there a specific
reason for your contrariness
today, Mohan?"
He sat up straight and lifted his
nose another degree.
"I am a prince. I am not
required to explain or justify my
actions."
And she wasn't required to
restrain Aiden Terrell, either.
At the moment his approach to
discipline had enormous appeal.
'That sort of attitude is what
leads to palace coups,
Mohan," she pointed out,
resolved to hold the higher ground.
''But since you're a considerable
number of years away from
that reality, let me provide you
with a more immediate one.
Your present behavior is
unacceptable, making you truly unpleasant
to
be
around. That being
the case, you will take
your midday meal in here,
in
solitude.
Further, you will remain
in here until such time as you
think you're capable of
conducting yourself in a civil
manner."
With that pronouncement, Alex
turned and walked across
the threshold. She was turning
back to pull the door closed
when he made one of his own.
"I will not eat."
"Suit yourself," she
shot back, pausing with the doorknob
in hand. "I'll remind you
that it takes twenty-one days to
starve a child and suggest that
unless you plan to discover a
font of self-control in the next
few minutes, you'll be wasting
not only the food, but also the
infantile demonstration."
"I hate you!" he
screamed as she confined him.
''I
hate
England! And the queen!"
Alex rested her forehead against
the door frame and
closed her eyes. He was only ten,
she reminded herself. He
was far from his home and his
family, awash in a world so
very, very different from his
own. She knew exactly how he
felt, remembered all too well how
she'd felt when her
mother and she had found refuge
in the raja’s household.
She'd been a bit older than Mohan
when her world had
been upended. But she'd adjusted
and endured. With grace
and hope. Unfortunately, those
were the two qualities Mohan
seemed to lack entirely. If
only
she knew how to impart
them to him, how to instill in
him
the kind of vision and
strength necessary to look past
today to a distant, brighter
tomorrow.
Setting an example hadn't worked.
Neither had very carefully
and clearly explaining it.
Attempting to go at it through
the instruction of manners had
produced no discernible
change in him, either. But was locking
him away the only
course remaining?
It
felt
like such an admission of failure.
If
she were a competent teacher, she
wouldn't have to resort to
such drastic, cold-hearted
measures.
Of course, she added,
straightening and walking toward
her own room, she hadn't yet been
reduced to the use of
corporal punishment. Alex slipped
inside, pressed the door
closed, and dropped into the soft
cushions of a rattan sofa.
No, to her credit, she hadn't
turned matters of discipline
over to Aiden Terrell. Or even suggested
that they might
share them. There was something
to be said for that, wasn't
there?
Wasn't there?
Alex blinked unseeingly into the
farthest comer, stunned.
She couldn't think of a single
reason why she should be
pleased by the prospect of
continuing to bear the burden
all
by herself. She was bone weary
from the effort to be mother,
tutor, mentor, father, and
friend. And she was beyond exhausted
by the futility of her every
effort on every front
Would it be so horribly,
unforgivably weak of her to surrender
a small part of the
responsibility? For just a little while?
She didn't care what Aiden
Terrell thought of her, she
quickly assured herself. He was
here, a reluctant part of their
lives, for the next few weeks, a
month at the most. As soon
as Lal's replacement arrived,
Aiden would be gone and she'd
never see him again. What did it
matter
if
he thought she was
weak and ineffectual?
It didn't matter at all. Except
to her pride. Which left her
with two clear choices; she could
either swallow it or she
could soldier on as she had for
the last five years and as her
mother had before her. Preeya's
suggested course wasn't a
realistic choice at all
.
Make
Aiden Terrell her lover and husband?
Mohan's surrogate father? Ha!
With an aggravated sigh, Alex leaned
her head back against
the cushion and closed her eyes.
Just a short nap, she promised
herself. The world always looked
kinder and brighter through
freshened eyes.
Aiden sat in the wing chair-the
one piece of English furniture
in the entire shop and surveyed
the rest of the contents
of the front store. It was said
that homes reflected the innermost
nature of the owner. If
that
was true, what did the Blue
Elephant Shop say about Alexandra
Radford?
There was absolutely nothing the
least straightforward or
simple about the place. There
were so many things in it; carefully
placed layers and layers of every
kind of decorative
merchandise imaginable. It
was
impossible to see it all at
even a long glance. Each time you
came back to a particular
spot you saw something you'd
missed the time before. On the
table across the room, a little
mirror, edged with an intricate
silver filigree, had been hidden
among a cascade of extravagantly
embroidered reticules. Off to the
right of that, amid a
collection of teakwood chargers
and gold-edged china plates,
sat a brass candlestick with a
fringe of semiprecious beads
twinkling in the afternoon
sunlight.
Not a bit of it was pretentious
and yet it all
felt rather elegant
and rich. None of it was arranged
in any formal way,
but there was no denying that
there was a deliberate order to
the chaos. There was a sense of
frustration that came with
considering it all, a sense that
you were being denied something
you desperately wanted and
needed. And at the same
time there was a thrill in that,
an anticipation of a grand,
thoroughly accidental discovery.
The Blue Elephant, Aiden decided,
was a study in contradictions.
Not that that conclusion told
him
much about Miss
Alexandra Radford. It was a
store, a public presentation of
herself and her wares. She didn't
strike him as the sort of
woman who would willingly lay
bare her soul for any stranger
coming in off the street.
No, Alex Radford didn’t readily
trust people
.
Not even
those with whom she was allied.
Was
she
wary because
of
her concerns for Mohan's safety?
Or
was
it more deeply and
broadly rooted than that? Aiden
cocked a
brow.
Or was it
that she simply didn't trust him?
A wry smile lifted one cor
ner
of
his
mouth
.
Judging
by
the
way her eyes had bright
ened
and her cheeks had flushed
out
in the yard, it might be
that she
didn't
even trust herself.
His amusement evaporated. Whether
or not Alex Radford
was willing to be seduced was an
evaluation he didn't need
to make, much less ponder. What
was worth considering,
though, was her apparent
distrust. He had a job to do, and if
she didn't trust him, protecting
Mohan would be all that
much more difficult. He needed to
find a way to prove
him
self
worthy.
Aiden frowned, irritated by both
the burden being his to
shoulder and the certainty that
accomplishment wouldn't
come easily. And Lord knew that
his motivation to make the
effort wasn't helped any by the
fact that Mohan had given
every indication so far of being
a most unlikable child. He'd
be willing to bet the necklace in
Barrett's safe that Alex was
upstairs desperately wanting to
beat her head against a wall
in frustration.
The sound of someone tapping
against glass brought his
attention back to his immediate
surroundings. Sawyer stood
on the walkway, peering at him
through the front window.