Pure Temptation Read Free Page A

medicine and return tomorrow to put a cast on her arm. By then the swelling should recede. She’s likely to be in considerable pain, but laudanum should ease her. Barring unforeseen setbacks, Lady Moira should be right as rain in four to six weeks.”
    “You know her name?” Jack asked, sending Spence a fulminating look. “I don’t recall mentioning it.” He could cheerfully strangle his friend for getting him into this muddle. Relative, indeed.
    “She awoke briefly while I was treating her. When I asked her name, she told me it was Moira. Her Irish brogue is delightful. Since she is in no condition to answer questions, I decided to get them from you instead.”
    Spence had had no idea Moira was really Irish when he’d woven his tale, and he was now enormously pleased that his story at least held a thread of truth. On the other hand, Jack appeared ready to explode. Not only was Jack saddled with an injured whore, but he had claimed her as a relative, thanks to Spencer Fenwick and his wicked sense of humor. Jack hoped Dr. Dudley would be discreet but feared the old man was inclined to gossip.
    “Will you stay for breakfast, Doctor?” Jack invited courteously. He hoped the doctor would refuse, for he couldn’t wait to get Spence alone and berate him soundly.
    “No time,” Dudley said, levering his bulk from the chair. “Office hours start early. I’ll be back tomorrow evening to look in on the patient.”
    Pettibone appeared with a breakfast tray, which he set down on a table with a flourish. Sensing the doctor was ready to leave, he bowed and escorted him to the door, leaving Spence and Jack alone.
    “You wretched oaf, you really threw the fat into the fire,” Jack thundered. “Relative, indeed. Whatever possessed you to tell that old gossip that the whore upstairs is related to me?”
    His mouth full of food, Spence grinned. “’Tis a grand joke, eh, Jack? I outdid myself this time. What a hoot. How many whores can you claim in your family?”
    “None that I know of,” Jack replied soberly. “And I’m not about to claim any now. Especially not for your amusement. One day your pranks are going to backfire.”
    Jack ate in silence. When he finished, he threw his napkin down and rose abruptly.
    “Where are you going?” Spence asked, setting down his fork.
    “Upstairs to see the patient.”
    “Wait, I’m coming with you.”
    Moira looked to be sleeping as innocently as a babe when the two men tiptoed into the bedchamber. But evidently she wasn’t sleeping as soundly as they thought, for she opened her eyes and gazed up at them.
    Rich, warm honey, Jack decided as he stared into her eyes. Not brown, not hazel, but pure amber with gold flecks.
    “Who are you? What happened?” Her lilting voice was as enchanting as the doctor had indicated. “Where am I?”
    Mesmerized, Jack had to clear his throat twice before he could answer. “You are in my home. Do you recall what happened, Moira?”
    Moira’s gaze turned inward, then grew murky. She recalled very well what had happened, but it was nothing she wanted to tell these two strange men. “How do you know my name?” She tried to sit up, grasped her splinted arm and groaned. “Blessed Mother, I hurt.”
    “Don’t move. Your arm is broken,” Jack said. “Can you remember anything?” Moira shook her head. “My carriage ran you down last night. ’Twas a most unfortunate accident. I learned your name from Dr. Dudley. I’m Sir Jackson Graystoke, and this is Lord Spencer Fenwick.”
    “Black Jack?” Moira asked, her eyes widening.
    Jack’s gray eyes sparkled with amusement. “I see you’ve heard of me.”
    Moira swallowed convulsively. “Aye. Though I believe none of the gossip, sir.”
    Jack tilted his head back and laughed. “You should. You had no identification on you,” he continued, “so I brought you to my home and summoned a doctor to treat your injuries. I’m sorry about the accident. If you have relatives in town, I’ll gladly