her authority as his employer, she said, "I wish to be
absolutely clear on one point at the very outset, Mr. Terrell.
While in Mr. Stanbridge's office you referred to my situation
as desperate. It's not. It's merely vulnerable. There's a significant
difference between the two."
One tawny brow slowly rose to disappear under the hair
tumbling over his forehead. A wry smile lifted one comer of
his mouth and dimpled a handsomely chiseled cheek. ''The
difference, Miss Radford," he countered dryly, "between vulnerable
and desperate is generally about a half-second.
Which is roughly the time it takes for someone to pull a
trigger."
"No one from India is going to use a firearm," she replied,
struggling to contain her irritation. ''A blade of one sort or
another would be the weapon of choice. It's tradition."
''And does that bit of reality make you feel better?"
"I have been trained in the defensive arts," she supplied,
meeting his gaze unflinchingly.
"Are you proficient enough that you could turn an attacker's
weapon against him?"
It depended entirely on the skill and determination of the
assailant. A small child or a cripple might have reason to
think twice before launching an assault against her, but no
one else would. Still, she wasn't prepared to share the truth
with the likes of the tiger in the opposite seat. "I assure you,
Mr. Terrell," she said evenly, "that I would be able to delay
any attacker long enough to afford Mohan the chance to escape
capture."
He considered her as a smile tugged at the comer of his
mouth. Finally, he asked, "Would he take it or would he stay
to help you?"
The man had all the persistence of a rat terrier. And none
of the charm. "Mohan has been instructed to run away under
such circumstances."
"You didn't answer the question," he observed with a
slight shake of his head. "You have a habit of doing that, you
know." He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
His gaze boring into her own, he firmly asked, "Is Mohan
the type of child who thinks of himself before others?"
She had no idea why he considered the matter to be worth
such dogged pursuit, but since she also couldn't see any danger
in honesty, she answered, "I suspect that in a threatening
situation, Mohan would act foolishly and try to protect me."
''There's something to be said for gallantry and bravery,"
he countered, settling back into the seat again. "Too many
young people today think only of themselves."
"Mohan can't afford the luxury of such lofty ideals,"
Alex felt compelled to point out. "He's to be the raja one
day. His survival is far more important than being well considered
by others."
'What good is a raja who's a coward?" he scoffed. "Who
would willingly follow him? Assuming, of course, that be
even possesses the strength required to lead."
And what did Aiden Terrell know of the qualities of leadership?
He was nothing more than an underling to be hired
out to anyone who would pay. "Mohan will someday make a
very competent and courageous leader."
The brow inched up again. "Will he be a wise one, as
well?"
"It's my responsibility to see that he has the knowledge
and experience necessary to exercise his power for the betterment
of his people."
He sighed, compressed his lips, and contemplated the tops
of his boots. after a long moment, he lifted his gaze to meet
hers. "Is it a custom in India to avoid answering questions?"
"I beg your pardon?" Alex asked, genuinely confused by
his sudden change in conversational direction.
"There," he said with a wave of his hand. "You just did it
again. You have a very difficult time providing direct answers,
Miss Radford. In the short span of our acquaintance,
your willing responses have been of three types-half the
truth, a truth unrelated to the inquiry, or an overt attempt to
change the subject entirely. You aren't fully honest unless
you're absolutely forced to be. Why is that?"
Because it's how one survives in a royal Indian household,
she silently answered. Pushing aside the jumble of memories
and ignoring the odd and unfamiliar sense of melancholy
welling inside her, Alex lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.
"I don't see that my personal behaviors are any of your
concern, Mr. Terrell," she declared in the voice she used to
squelch dissension in the schoolroom. "You've been employed
for the sole purpose of protecting Mohan. And while
your duty and mine are temporarily the same, our association
doesn't require the development of anything more substantive
than a purely business relationship."
He tilted his head to the side and smiled ever so softly.
"'That rather lengthy answer went into the change - the subject
cold. Why do you do that”
This was not going well. Not well at all. She was feeling
under siege and she didn't like it one bit. "You are a man with
a most inappropriate sense of curiosity, Mr. Terrell," she declared,
hoping to at least shame him into a more deferential
manner.
''An unrelated truth." Again he leaned forward to close
the distance between them, to more effectively pin her gaze
with his. "Let's go back to where we were when you attempted
to derail me. WIll Mohan be a wise leader?"
Clearly, he wasn't going to abide by accepted social
conventions. "It's too early to tell," she all but snapped.
"He is, after all, only ten years old. His judgment is that of
a child."
He made no attempt to contain his smile. ''That was physically
painful for you, wasn't it?"
''And the possibility of it pleases you greatly."
''A half-related truth." He sat back once more and pushed
his hands into his coat pockets, adding, ''That makes a fourth
way you can answer. I'm impressed."
He had to be the most insufferable man in all of London.
In all of England. Perhaps even the entire British empire. The
possibility of enduring his questioning and derisive comments
for the foreseeable future was more than she could
bear. "Is there some particular reason why you have this apparent
compulsion to needle me, Mr. Terrell?" she demanded,
determined to resolve their contest one way or the other. "Do
I remind you of someone you especially dislike?"
"Well, you certainly don't appear to have any difficulty in
asking a direct question."
''A related truth, Mr. Terrell," she shot back. "Perhaps
even an attempt to change the subject. But not an answer."
His smile was easy and broad, crinkling the corners of his
eyes and sending a hard jolt into the center of her chest. "And
you don't appear to like evasion any better than I do, Miss
Radford. Shall we call a truce? Or shall we just continue to
verbally fence until one of us actually succeeds in drawing
blood?"
A
truce? Dear God, no. Not under any circumstances. She
needed to keep as much distance as possible between them;
he had a way of undermining her concentration, of stirring
feelings that she suspected might grow to be uncontrollable.
"I don't much care for your manner, Mr. Terrell," she admitted.
"You're disrespectful, sarcastic, and appear to be, at
best, only marginally interested in the task to which you've
been assigned."
He snorted softly and his smile widened. "I've been assigned
to the task for less than fifteen minutes. The majority
of that time has been spent trying to pry straight answers out
of you. And not altogether successfully, I might add. Which
means that, to this point, anyway, you haven't earned my respect."
His smile faded and his eyes darkened to the color of
a storm-shadowed sea "As for sarcasm ... I don't like being
treated like a boot-licking minion, Miss Radford."
"Especially by women," she clarified, her pulse racing in
the face of prodding his obvious anger.
"Mostly by spinsters with an inflated sense of self-importance."
There it was; the unvarnished truth of it. He'd accurately
concluded that she wasn't the sort of woman who would
ever wrap herself around his ankles and beg him to deliver
her from evil. And since she didn't meet his standards of
femininity, he wasn't obligated to meet the expectations of a
modern Saint George. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd
been declared insufficiently female, but that truth didn't dull
the pain. In fact, inexplicably, the barb seemed to have gone
deeper this time than ever before.
Summoning every shred of her dignity, Alex found what
she hoped passed as a serene smile and said, "It's apparent
that we're not going to be able to work well together, Mr. Terrell.
I think it would be best if we had the driver turn back."
"As long as you understand," he countered, "that I'm the
closest approximation to a gentleman that Barrett Stanbridge
can assign to you. If you're looking for abject subservience,
you're going to have to find another private investigator."
Subservience would be perfect. It was the way men had
usually treated her. It was one of the more positive benefits of
being a royal tutor, the only British member of a royal Indian
household. "Mr. Stanbridge himself will do quite nicely," she
mused aloud. "He has a most appropriate demeanor."
Terrell glared at her as another of his derisive smiles
lifted one corner of his mouth. Alex drew a slow, deep breath
and waited.
"If Barrett were the least interested in being the one to
stand between the little raja and harm, he would have stepped
up to it and you and I would have ended our acquaintance at
his office doorway. But since it's you and me sitting in this
rented hack together ... "
She'd been backed into a corner. Ruthlessly tamping down
a swell of fear, Alex calmly announced, ''Then I will simply
have to find another investigator."
''Where?'' he inquired, chuckling. "You've already interviewed
all of the reputable ones in London."
"Excuse me?" she asked, stunned that he somehow knew.
He settled his broad shoulders into the corner of the carriage,
stretched his long legs out, folded his arms over his
chest, and grinned. The pit of Alex's stomach tightened even
as her skin warmed and tingled.
"You said that you put the injured guard on a boat for India
three weeks ago," he began. "Given your determination
to protect your ward, I'm obsessing that you haven't spent the
last three weeks forgetting to hire a replacement guard. I
think you've made the rounds and went to Emmaline for a
recommendation only when the obvious, more -publicly
known choices didn't meet your standards. Barrett is a very
private investigator. You only know about him by personal
reference. So, following the deductive logic to the end ...
You have two options, Miss Radford. It's me or go it alone."
He might actually do a decent job of protecting Mohan.
His mind worked with surprising precision and clarity. Not
that she was about to share that bit of appreciative insight
with him. And not that she was willing to surrender control
of any situation to him, either. ''What credentials and experience
do you have, Mr. Terrell?"
He laughed silently and she knew that he was thinking,
Change of subject. Blessedly, though, he found some grace
and didn't torment her. "Relatively few, actually. I was once
ten years old and have younger brothers, so I do have a basic
understanding of what goes through the minds of boys.
spend my life productively. I've discovered that, for the time
being, it's easier to acquiesce than fight him on the matter."
"Do you always take the easiest course?"
"Rarely, actually. I'm reforming at the moment."
Alex arched a brow, wondering just how much of an improvement
she was seeing.
"No, not happily and not by much," he supplied, apparently
able to read her mind. "But since a child's life is in
danger, I'll manage to trudge along."
She understood the edgy resignation she heard in his
voice; she'd spent all of her life trudging through one duty
after another. Nevertheless ... "I don't find that attitude
very reassuring, Mr. Terrell."
His smile faded slowly and, as they had the last time
she'd prodded him, his eyes darkened. "I'll do what I must to
protect Mohan for as long as necessary. How you feel about
me in the process really doesn't matter one whit."
Why on earth that taunt bothered her-and bothered her
deeply-she didn't know. It was, however, quite liberating if
not completely honest to counter, "Which sums up perfectly
my sentiments concerning your opinions of me, Mr. Terrell."
"Good," he said, openly assessing her. 'We have an agreement.
Our first." .
"And quite likely our only one."
"No. One more is absolutely essential. I'm responsible
for the child's protection and I'll make decisions in that regard.
You'll agree to respect them."
"Only if I consider them wise ones, Mr. Terrell. I won't
surrender my good judgment to you or anyone else."
There was a long moment of silence during which the
rented carriage slowed and drew out of traffic. As it eased to
a stop in front of Emmaline's shop, Terrell leaned forward in
the seat, took the door handle in hand and said, "I'm a fairly
reasonable man. I'm willing to discuss whatever issues may
arise, but only to a certain extent. When I m:aw the line, it:s
drawn and I won't tolerate dissension or reSIstance from eIther
you or Mohan." . .
"How very imperial of you," Alex observed.
He grinned, dimpling his cheek and sending another jolt
into the center of her being. ''I can go toe to toe WIth the best.
You've met your match, duchess." Then he winked, popped
open the door, and vaulted out onto the snow-covered walk.
Alex sat there, too stunned and angry to do more than
blink. Duchess? And what precisely was that wink supposed
to imply? That he was teasing? That he hadn't. intended for
the barb to be as sharp as it was? He was standing there, his
hand extended, obviously expecting her to accept his assistance
out of the carriage.
'When hell's as cold as London," she muttered, gathering
her skirts and disembarking on her own. The snow crunched
under her boots and pelted down onto her shoulders. She ignored
it just as studiously as she did Terrell's cocked brow
and frown.
"JohnAiden!"
Alex lifted her gaze toward the woman's voice, toward the
doorway of Emmaline's millinery shop. Alex had never met
the attractive brunette advancing toward them; she did, however
recognize the maid toting boxes and coming in her
wake. Alex met the servant's gaze and knew in an instant that
there would be no public acknowledgment of their association.
Which was as it should be. The woman's employer-:Mrs.
Geoffrey Walker-Hines-would be mortified to have It
known.
"I had heard rumors that you were back in London!" the
other cried, extending her hands to Terrell and smiling
brightly. As he took them, she fluttered her lashes and cooed,