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but her inner she-devil was driving her.
    He saw her eyes glitter through the mask and knew she was thoroughly enjoying herself. He grew marble-hard thinking about the sport she would provide in bed. He could almost feel her long legs slide up his back. “I’ll pay your dress bills and provide you with a ladies’ maid,” he offered.
    Diana set the wine down. “You are wasting both my time and your own.”
    The earl picked up the glass and handed it back to her. “I’ll lease you a
pied-á-terre,
and provide you with your own carriage,” he added as an inducement.
    Diana licked her lips. Hardwick felt his shaft pulse.
    “Your offer”—she paused dramatically—“is insulting,” she finished.
    Some of the casual amusement left his eyes and was replaced by an intense look of desire. “You play the game very well, little goddess. I am prepared to buy you a house —if you please me in every way.”
    Diana ran the tip of her finger around the rim of the glass. “Did I hear you say
carte blanche,
my lord?” She was almost carried away by a delicious feeling of power.
    “Goddamn it, you strike a hard bargain!” He stared at her for long minutes, his expression grim as his mind argued with his body. His body won.
    “Carte blanche
it is,” he agreed, a look of triumph in his eyes.
    Diana poured her wine into a vase of lilies.
“Carte blanche
it isn’t, I’m afraid.”
    “What the devil do you mean?”
    “I mean
no.
My answer is
no.”
    “Why?” he demanded.
    Diana looked him up and down. “Because you are tooarrogant, too cocksure, and far, far too old for me, Lord Bath.”
    Mark Hardwick, the Earl of Bath, was stunned.
    “Don’t bother to show me out, I know my way about the streets very well.”
    Without even being aware of it, Hardwick crushed the wineglass he was holding.
    Lady Diana found her carriage waiting at the corner of Grosvenor Square. When she rapped on the door, it took a few minutes before a disheveled James scrambled out.
    Inside Diana threw off her cloak. She was breathless from the deliciously close encounter she had just experienced with the virile earl. When he had made it plain that he desired her, she was filled with a wicked pleasure. “Quickly, help me off with my costume,” she begged Biddy. “How in the world will I get back into my bloody corset in this cramped space?”
    Biddy replied blandly, “It’s a bit of a struggle, but it can be managed. Trust me, my lady.”
    Early the next morning Diana bathed and washed her hair, making sure every last trace of
maquillage
was erased.
    Prudence, chocolate cup in hand, surveyed her with dismay. “You’ve washed your head! How tiresome. Hurry and get your hair dried. I accepted an invitation for you to ride in Hyde Park this afternoon.”
    “With whom?” Diana demanded, feeling annoyed at the control Prudence always exercised over her.
    “With Peter Hardwick, of course. He has been most punctilious in paying his calls. I must say his manners are impeccable. Which is only as it should be.”
    Diana was somewhat mollified when she heard the name and decided the library fire would be ideal to dry her hair. While pacing impatiently in front of the roaringflames, her eyes traveled over the titles of the leather-bound volumes, searching for something that would sweep her away to another time and place. She chose
The Legend of King Arthur
and curled up before the fire in a spacious wingback chair to read.
    As always, Diana’s imagination took flight. She was transported back to where the swirling mists revealed the earthly paradise known as Avalon. Diana had no notion of time, but all at once she became aware of the fact that she was no longer alone. With reluctance, she lifted her eyes from her book and peered over the top of the wing chair. She withdrew her head immediately like a turtle retreating into his shell, her thoughts in complete disarray.
    Except for the crackle of the fire, silence blanketed the room. Diana raised her