Page 113 of The Rogue and His Flower

“It is probably one of the most beautiful places on Earth,” I agree, my feet sinking into the warm sand as I stand by her side.

“Have you been here many times?” she asks softly, a gentle breeze lifting the skirt of her dress as she glances at me. It flutters against my thigh, and I get the urge to haul her into my arms and kiss her.

“A handful, yes.”

“Have you brought other women here?”

“No. I come here to get away from everyone, Daisy,” I admit, hating that she thinks I would take her to a place I’ve fucked other women. “I thought you would appreciate some peace and quiet.”

She nods, her eyes drifting back to the ocean as we step up onto a jetty that rises out of the water, our feet padding across the warm wood. String lights are hanging from the handrails, some of them blinking on as the sky begins to darken.

“I didn’t realise just how much I needed to get away until we arrived. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome,” I reply, as we fall into a comfortable silence the further we walk away from the shore.

“I had no idea you were arranging this. When I spoke to Drix earlier, he was taken aback too, but he’s glad I didn’t have to face the press. I think, maybe, he’s softening to the idea of talking to you again,” she replies as we come to a standstill on the platform at the end of the jetty, the ocean a deeper, more azure blue here.

“My father’s an arsehole. I couldn’t let you go through that, and whenever Drix is ready to talk, I’ll be there. We’ve been friends for a long time Daisy, I miss him,” I admit.

“I think he misses you too. This is just… hard on him.”

“I get that.”

“Dalton…?” Daisy questions, her voice trailing off as she drags in a deep breath.

“Yes?”

“I haven’t thanked you for the dress. It meant a lot to me. So, thank you.”

“Did seeing it at least make you smile?” I ask.

“It made mehappy,” she replies, my fucking heart clenching as she reaches for my hand and squeezes it gently. “It made me feel like me.”

Before she’s able to pull her hand away, I wrap my fingers around hers, needing to touch her, fucking desperate for physical contact. “You deserved something thatyouwanted after my father decided to make our wedding into a fucking performance,” I say, stepping around her so that we’re face to face.

“It was always going to be a performance, Dalton,” she whispers, her brows creasing together in a frown as she drops her head, refusing to look into my eyes.

“What I said at the wedding wasn’t a performance, and that kiss we shared to seal our vows wasn’t either,” I admit, drawing her chin upwards with my fingers. “You’re mywife, Daisy.”

“On paper, yes,” she agrees, her words like a knife stabbing my gut.

“I wish…” My voice trails off as I try to articulate what I’m feeling.

“What do you wish, Dalton?”

“Fuck, Daisy, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say,” I reply, my insides all churned up.

I never thought that getting married would make me feel the way I do. I’mproudto be her husband. I want to make her happy more than anything. Nothing seems as important as her happiness.

“Do you wish that things were simpler? That you could go back to your life before this exploded in our faces? she asks softly, misinterpreting me.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” I insist.

“What then?”

“We’re friends, right?” I ask, needing her reassurance, hating how fucking vulnerable that makes me sound.

“Yes,” she agrees.

---