“You’ve loved every single one of my ideas.”

“I may love this one too much, which means it is probably a bad idea.”

“Let me help you decide.” Not willing to untangle her fingers from his, Diana reached for his cheek with her left hand. The roughness of his stubble skimmed the tips of her fingers. She slid her palm back and forth along the hollow of his cheek. “So, this is what a man’s cheek feels like.”

He was still breathing a bit harder than normal and deeply. But he tried one of his familiar jaunty expressions. “You’ve never felt a man’s cheek before?”

“My father’s, I suppose, but I was quite young, and I don’t remember his ever looking quite this rough.”

“I wasn’t expecting visitors.” Her eyes went to the open neck of his shirt. That was obvious. “You always manage to come when I’m not expecting you.” All she could do was nod. “So much about you is unexpected.”

Everton gently released his fingers from her grasp. Her hand was empty without his there. Was he going to ask her to leave? After all this?

He leaned forward and cupped her face in his hands. His thumb stroked her skin, just inches below her eye, as if he were wiping away a tear. “So this is what a woman’s cheek feels like.”

Diana laughed. He wasn’t asking her to leave—not yet. “I know you have touched a woman’s cheek before.”

“Never one who smiled at me like you are now.” His thumb moved from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, waiting.

And waiting.

Cracking one eye open, she found Everton watching her with a strange half smile on his face. Devil take the man. Had he been pretending this whole time? Was this his way of winning their nonsensical game?

She stepped back, and his hands fell off her face. “Are you mocking me?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Everton stepped forward. His hand brushed her elbow, then slid down her arm and claimed her hand. “But you must understand I cannot kiss you.”

“Why not? We have kissed before, for heaven’s sake.”

“Yes, but that was as a favor.” He shrugged his head to one side. “And admittedly, for a bit of fun.”

They were already close, but she stepped closer. “This would be fun.”

He shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

“I will let you consider it a favor.”

“Diana.” His fingers traced her cheekbone again, sending tiny pinpricks of pleasure rushing through her. “I—quite honestly—don’t know that I can give you anything. I don’t think I have anything to give. I will not take advantage of you.”

Diana drew in a slow, steady breath. This was not the Everton she had come to know. He didn’t care about propriety. “Why not? Of all the times to live up to your reputation, please, Everton, do not become a stuffy, uptight gentleman on me now.”

“Diana, we are alone . . . in my study.”