Page 23 of The Rogue and His Flower

“You likecolour…”

“Are you saying I have no fashion sense?” she asks, her tone a little defensive.

“You definitely stand out in a crowd,” I comment, side-eyeing her turquoise jeans and yellow puffer jacket ensemble.

Daisy rolls her eyes. “At least I’m not boring.”

“You’re far from boring, Daisy,” I concede, indicating right before pulling onto the private, mile long drive that leads to my home, Highwood Manor Estate. “But hey, who am I to judge? Fashion’s subjective, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” Daisy agrees. “I guess we can add ‘respecting each other’s personal style’ to our list of agreements.”

“I can get behind that. Are there any other secret hobbies you have that I should know about?” I ask.

“I think you’re aware of my other hobby.”

“Are you referring to that obscene collection of unicorn figurines?”

“Yep.”

“What is it with you and Drix and your obsession with toys anyway? I can think of a million things I’d rather collect than plastic figurines.”

Daisy’s expression falls at my words. “I guess never having parents who could afford, or even want to buy you toys will do that to you,” she says softly, her tone heavy with emotion.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

“It’s fine,” she brushes off my apology with a wave of her hand, turning to look out of the window as we drive up to the imposing manor that I call home.

Highwood Manor Estate has been owned by our family for generations. Nestled among thirty acres of vibrant greenery, springtime is especially magical here when the gardens burst with colourful blooms and the lawns are meticulously maintained. I used to love getting lost in the maze as a child, sometimes taking hours to find my way out. The manor also boasts luxurious amenities like a swimming pool, ballroom, gym, spa, and even a private cinema room. And let's not forget the helipad and garage filled with antique cars and motorcycles. Despite living under the same roof, I rarely see my father unless it's for our regular business discussions; that's just how grand this estate is.

“So here we are,” I say, putting the car into park, and turning off the engine.

“Here we are,” she agrees, chewing on her lip.

“I’ll show you to your suite,” I say, stepping out of the car and heading towards the front door. When she doesn’t step into stride next to me, I turn to find her opening the boot of the car. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m getting my suitcase,” she replies.

“We have staff for that. Leave it, come with me.”

“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” she replies, the suitcase dropping to the gravel driveway with a thud.

“Here let me,” I say, jogging towards her and grabbing the suitcase.

“Thanks,” she mutters, smothering a smile as I grimace at the weight of it.

“What have you got in here anyway?” I ask.

“You didn’t think I’d leave without my collection of unicorns, did you?” she deadpans.

“You’re kidding right?”

She shakes her head, her lips quivering in a smile. “Of course I am, I can’t imagine Carl letting me display them next to his priceless antiques, can you?”

“God forbid,” I agree, shaking my head at the idea.

Once inside, I point out the various rooms on the way to her suite situated in the west wing of the manor. She walks silently beside me, offering smiles and soft hello’s to the staff we pass by.

“Are all your staff so?—”

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