And then he would lose her.

His first friend.

Diana puffed out a breath of frustration. “Oh, don’t go acting rakish on me. It doesn’t suit you.”

That bite. No one talked to him like that. It didn’t strengthen his desires to be a gentleman. He raised his eyebrow and studied the little turn at her mouth. He would kiss that first, softly, and then, when she opened her mouth to complain, he would kiss the rest of it. “I’ve been told it does.”

A trace of a smile blossomed on her lips. He had thought his comment would warrant a frown. If she knew what he was thinking . . .

“All right.” She sighed. “Perhaps it does.”

He found himself leaning forward again. It was impossible to fight off Diana. She plowed her way into anything she wanted. His study, his life, the railroad industry. If more women were like her, he would be out of the scandal-making business. There would be no shrinking violets. No women would need his poor reputation to clear a way for themselves.

“I’m confused, Diana. Would you like me to be rakish tonight or not?” He lifted a hand and brushed her cheek. Instead of pulling away, she rested her head upon his hand.

He froze.

“Lord Bryant.” Her voice was careful and soft and pulled him closer to her. She lifted her head off his hand and looked him in the eye. “I want you to be yourself.”

Himself? What the devil did she mean by that? “So . . . a rake I will be.”

She shook her head in the slightest of movements. “No.” She pushed herself away from the desk and started instead to pace in front of it. All tenderness was gone. She was, once again, the calculating businesswoman he saw so often in her office. He waited for his heart to stop sounding so loud in his ears, but just having her here in his domain was doing funny things to him. “You are no rake, and I’m sorry I didn’t realize that.” She stopped pacing and turned to him. Her head was lowered, her eyebrows furrowed. “I have taken advantage of an innocent, it seems.”

An innocent? Everton blinked. Exactly what had Diana heard? Everton was a lot of things, but an innocent was definitely not one of them. “I’m sorry. Are we still speaking of me?”

Her eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Yes, of course.”

“I believe it is quite well known throughout London that I am undoubtedly a rake. I kissed you after only spending a few minutes in your company.”

She waved her hand in the air, as if his arguments were inconsequential. “That hardly makes you a rake.”

“I’m quite certain it does exactly that.”

“No, you were helping me.”

“I didn’t have to kiss you to help you. There are plenty of other ways I could have convinced Mr. Broadcreek to leave you alone, much more gentlemanly ways.”

“I never said you were a gentleman, only that you are most definitely not a rake.”