Page 68 of The Rogue and His Flower

“I’m so glad he was there for you, Daisy. That he still is.”

“Me too,” she replies, giving me a tremulous smile. “You know, even after we were adopted by Hubert, Drix would still come into my room if I had a nightmare or was feeling particularly vulnerable. He’d sit with me until the sun came up, never once complaining about being tired the next day.” Daisy’s eyes fill with tears as she recalls those memories. “He was my protector, my saviour. So when I found out about his debt, there was no question that I would help him. I agreed to this arranged marriage because his happiness meanseverythingto me.”

“I can see why he’s so protective of you, and why he hates that I’m the one you’re tied to now,” I admit, scraping a hand through my hair at the realisation. “I wish things were different. I wish I could be the man you need…”

She grips my fingers. “I told Drix that I want you and I to be friends, I meant it. Can we at least try to be that, Dalton?”

“Yes,” I reply without hesitation. “I want to be your friend, Daisy. I’m just so fucking sorry you’ve been drawn into all of this.”

“Selfishly, I want something out of this arrangement too.”

“A child?”

“Yes, someone I can shower with love. I want to give our child all the love I never experienced, that you didn’t. I’m sorry you never felt loved either,” she adds with a whisper. “I’m sorry I’ve been unkind to you too.”

My throat constricts, and I nod, swallowing hard. “Then it will be my honour to help you to become a mother.”

“Even if that means making this baby in an unconventional way?” she asks, a soft smile pulling up her lips.

“Even then,” I reply.

A few minutes later I’m standing on the threshold of Daisy’s bedroom as she steps inside and slips off her shoes, her toes curling into the plush carpet. When she turns to face me I can see the lingering vulnerability in her eyes.

“Thank you for listening, Dalton,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself, looking more lost than ever, and before I’ve even had time to think my feet are moving of their own accord as I stride towards her.

“You’re not alone, Daisy,” I say, gently cupping her face.

Her body trembles as she leans into my touch, seeking comfort amidst the chaos of raw emotion. Every part of me wants to pull her into my arms, to hold her, comfort her, but I’m not convinced my body will react the way it should. Fuck knows I’m fighting the urge to kiss her again. The way I feel right now is confusing to me, and I don’t know how to unravel it all. So we stand there for a moment, suspended in time, before she breaks the silence.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” she whispers.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I admit.

“All this talk of my past…” Her voice trails off as she catches the look on my face. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s okay, I understand why you don’t want to.”

“I’m not sure that you do,” I say, releasing her and swiping my hand through my hair in frustration. “I just don’t trust myself right now. Earlier, I wasn’t respectful towards you. I was caught up in my own head. I let my own selfish needs and insecurities get the better of me, and I’m not sure I have the willpower to ignore these urges I’m fighting against right now. I want you, and I wouldn’t be a very good person if I wasn’t honest with you about that.”

“You want me?”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Daisy. I’m trying my best not to fuck up here,” I implore.

“You don’t want to sleep with me?”

“If I lay beside you right now the last thing I’d want to do is sleep,” I say, itching to draw her into my arms, wanting nothing more than to bury myself inside her until we both forget what’s broken within us.

“What if I don’t want to sleep either?” she replies, locking her gaze with mine. “What if I want you to touch me?”

“I’m a walking red flag, Daisy,” I say. “Right now I’m everything youdon’tneed.”

“At this point, I’m not sure that I care,” she says, stepping towards me as I take a step back.

“And that’s exactly why this is a bad idea.”

“Dalton, don’t get a conscience now. I’m basically giving myself to you,” she says, her voice cracking with emotion. “That’s what you want isn’t it, to fuck?”

“Yes…” I admit wincing. “Damn it, no!”

“What is it? Yes or no?”

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