Johnny leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. When he finished, he pulled away, a mischievous sparkle in his black-brown eyes. "Don't tell Moira. But I always wanted to do that." He chuckled.

"Congratulations, colleen."

Ryan's dark eyes had narrowed perceptibly by the time Johnny turned, nodded, and strolled out the

door, his sense of humor fully restored for the day.

After the door closed, Rachel felt the force and heat of Ryan's gaze as he locked his eyes with hers.

They no longer stood beneath the guise of a truce.

"You could have told him the truth," Rachel said. "That I was the one caught with my hand in the cookie jar."

"And ruin his fun? When I'm already in enough trouble with you?"

Rachel walked to the window. If she left this office, he would catch her, which would only add more indignity to her already beleaguered stance.

"What did you do with Miss Peabody?" he asked after a moment.

"She was a witch. I discharged her." Rachel kept her chin high beneath the weight of his gaze. "I know

that you think she was the best, but money doesn't always buy the best, Ryan. Elsie can stay with MaryElizabeth until you find another suitable nanny."Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shook his head. "I don't know why I'm not angry, considering that my daughter looked like something dredged up from the Thames when I arrived at Brea's house looking for

you. She was playing in the mud."

Knowing his sensibilities had been shocked lent some measure of recompense to her mood. Ryan had always been highbrow to the core.

His back against the door, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I returned as soon as I received Brianna's wire. It was handed to me upon my arrival in Bristol."

Rachel folded her arms. "Thank goodness for the telegraph."

"I didn't invite Gwyneth to Paris."

"Fine." She faced him. "Then you only shared your private rail car with her all the way back from Dover, then proceeded to Bristol."

"With five other people," he pointed out.

Trying to conceal her reaction to that statement, she shifted uneasily.

"We've reached an accord, Rachel. No matter what you think of her or of me at this moment, I still have

a duty to protect her. I owe her that much. Nothing happened. She's at the house in Bristol."

"Hiding?"

"Apparently she is afraid of what her uncle will do to her when he discovers that she has broken our

engagement. He should be receiving the news tomorrow."

For a moment, she could only stare. "She is doing that for you?"

"She is doing this because I am making her very wealthy."

Despite herself, Rachel understood Ryan's position. Realizing what he was sacrificing for her, she

dropped her gaze to her hands. "Now that you aren't marrying Lady Gwyneth, will you lose your nomination for a knighthood, as well?"

"Whether I ever receive the orders or not will no longer have anything to do with a marriage to Lady

Gwyneth.""I'm sorry," Rachel whispered."For what?""For always making your life so difficult.""We're Irish, Rache. We make 'difficult' an art form."She regarded him standing against the oaken door, startlingly handsome. Still not ready to concede to him full victory over her heart, she angled her chin, and asked, "Did your deal with Valmonts close to

your satisfaction? Have you successfully annexed another territory into your kingdom?"

The growth of stubble darkening his jaw brought a predatory glint into his eyes as she once again set him

on their original tack, for he had suddenly gone all dark and dangerous on her. "Something like that." No

longer coolly taciturn, he pushed off the door and shrugged out of his jacket. "My business in Paris was

quite satisfactory."

"Just once, I would like to be in your shoes, Ryan."

"No, you wouldn't."

The unexpected vulnerability in those words held her gaze to his. "At least you are considered important.

That is something."

"Only because people are afraid of me or want something." He tugged at the knot on his tie.

Wary of his approach, Rachel stepped away from the window, and they faced each other across the

conference table. "What are you doing, Ryan?"

His gaze traveled from her head to her toes. "I'm listening to you explain why you and Johnny were in here today talking about deposing me."

"That should be obvious."

Slowing in front of the window, he reached up and pulled the cord for the blinds. They cascaded to the

sill, sending the office into a nocturnal twilight.

"So, what should we do about this difference of opinion between us?" His fingers working the buttons on his gray waistcoat, he again commenced pursuing her.

Her eyes, on the breadth of his shoulders, lifted to his face. "Competition is a fact of life." Rachel collided

with a potted fig before she switched direction. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes." He shed his waistcoat.

"Great Britain is in the midst of the biggest construction boom in history," she continued, alarmed that at

this rate, he would be undressed before she made another round of the room. "Ore Industries and D&B can actually complement each other if we manage to rearrange our resources. We pool our talent, yet our identities remain intact..." She paused abruptly when the door came up against her back. "We can work together."

He pressed both of his palms against the door, trapping her between his arms. "Would that make you

happy, Rachel?"

Her breath caught in her lungs. The entire course of his behavior was at odds with everything she'd expected from him, and she was no longer sure that they were talking about D&B or Ore Industries.

"Finding a solution to this problem would make me happy."

"Do you really want a partnership with Lord Bathwick?"

Rachel shook her head, unable to stop her gaze from misting, and it seemed that her whole world hadbeen reduced to this moment. "I want a partnership with you."He didn't speak at first. Then..."All right."Her brows shot up. "All right?"Amusement settled in his eyes. "I'm a pussycat, Rachel," he said, more interested in the flush on her cheeks than his concession. "Scratch my ears, and I purr."

Rachel stared at him speechless.

"Did you want to negotiate more?" he asked.

"No."

He reached above his head and shut the transom. It slammed closed. "Good."

His lips covered hers.

No simple kiss devoured her, but one filled with hunger and passion and a thousand other promises. His

heat infused her and bonded to the length of her body. He eased his hands from the door and traced the contour of her cheeks, finally holding her to his plunder. And plunder he did. Her emotions converging into one feeble push and pull of her heart, Rachel raised her palms to his chest.