Very involved.

A low cough and a cleared throat sounded from the other side of the room, but rather than this discouraging Lord Bryant, a smile rose on his lips. A smile that she felt. If Diana had still been eighteen, this kiss would have been the fulfillment of all her dreams.

At twenty-two—her fingertips brushed the bottom of Lord Bryant’s hair—it was causing all types of commotion behind her eyelids, flashes of light she didn’t understand, but it wasn’t a fulfillment of a dream. There was no love behind Lord Bryant’s actions. He was acting. The way his hand slid up her back and rested between her shoulder blades was only for the benefit of Mr. Broadcreek. Well, she could act as well as he. She followed his lead and allowed herself to make the most of the few things she had caught on to. The office blurred away, and eighteen-year-old Diana rose to the surface. She smiled against Lord Bryant’s lips. This was the most fun she had had since taking over the Richardsons’ business. She pushed her fingers into Lord Bryant’s hair and pulled him firmly against her.

After all, with the unconventional life she was living here in London, it could be years before a man deigned to kiss her again.

Chapter 4

In the history of Everton’s many scandals, he had only resorted to kissing two ladies. They had both been stiff and obviously uncomfortable with the situation.

Miss Barton had stiffened but for only a moment. He had thought to scare her while convincing that blackguard, Mr. Broadcreek, to leave her alone. But Miss Barton didn’t seem to scare easily.

At the moment, her lips were kissing the corner of his mouth in a way he found quite distracting. Somewhere between the time his lips first met hers and now, she had taken over his kiss and made it her own. Her fingers curled into his hair, and she pulled him to her.

She pulled him to her.

Something snapped inside him, and he tightened his arms, crushing her into his chest. Every nerve was on edge as he waited for her to pull away or to stiffen in shock and disgust, but instead, she sighed into him. She smelled of ink and paper, not roses like other women. When had paper become a heady scent?

Precisely two minutes ago.

The bell above the door clanged a second time, announcing what Everton assumed was the departure of Mr. Broadcreek. He loosened his hands at Miss Barton’s waist and immediately took a step back. He had thought to discourage her, to make her see that she was in over her head with a man like him, but he had gone overboard and lost control in the very moment he shouldn’t have. He didn’t bother opening his eyes as he fully expected to be slapped and would rather not see it coming.

After a moment, he cracked one eye open. Miss Barton was back at her desk.