Page 37 of The Rogue and His Flower

“I swear, this was just a huge misunderstanding. I didn’t know she was with anyone, she never said.”

“You prick!” I snap, stepping towards him. “I never gave you the impression that I was interested in you whatsoever. Where do you get off?”

“She has a fucking engagement ring on her finger, arsehole. Pretty sure that tells you she’s already taken!” Dalton adds, gripping the man by the throat and forcing him backwards roughly until his back hits the wall.

“Woah! Let’s just all calm down,” one of the other men from the party says.

“I will calm the fuck down when you’ve all gotten the fuck out of my town!” Dalton growls, his fingers tightening around Paul’s throat. He’s already turning a deep red from lack of oxygen.

“Dalton, just let him go,” I plead, gripping his arm, feeling the tension radiating through his muscles as Paul gasps for breath.

Dalton’s gaze flickers between me and Paul, his jaw clenched tightly. After a moment of intense silence, he releases his grip on Paul's throat, who doubles over, coughing. The other men quickly move in to help their friend up as Dalton stands there, seething with anger.

"You're lucky Daisy stopped me," Dalton growls, his voice low and dangerous. "If I ever see you in this town again, you won't be so fortunate. Now get the fuck out of this bar!"

Paul nods frantically, his eyes wide with fear as he stumbles away with his friends, leaving the bar in a hurry. A moment later,Ben approaches us, setting the baseball bat down on the nearest table.

“You good?” he asks Dalton.

“I’m fucking pissed off,” Dalton replies through gritted teeth, the muscle in his jaw flexing. “I should’ve killed the fucker.”

“I had no idea Daisy was in trouble. I couldn’t see past the group of men,” Ben explains, flicking me a look of guilt.

“It’s fine, Ben,” I say on a soft breath.

“It’s notyourfault,” Dalton says, glancing at Ben before lifting his hand to rub his forehead.

“I hope you’re not suggesting that it’s—” I begin.

“But it ismyresponsibility to keep you safe,” he cuts me off, his eyes darting over me, checking for any signs of further harm as he steps closer.

“I’m fine. I was handling it,” I protest, but he just closes the gap between us and cups my face, his fingers curling into my hair.

“Hitting him around the head with your handbag isnothandling it,” he replies tightly. “I told you to come home.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” I hiss, aware we have an audience.

“Clearly, someone has to,” he snaps back.

“I was just grabbing a quick drink.”

“You were avoiding me, and look what happened, some fucking cunt tried to molest you. You are my fiancé, Daisy,” he mutters, his gaze dropping from my eyes to my lips and back again. “And it’s my duty to take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” I snort with laughter, annoyed at the way he’s trying to control me as I lower my voice and say, “Didn’t we recently establish that you’re not doing a particularly good job at that?”

“That’s not fair. I came here, didn’t I?” he asks, chest heaving with residual anger.

“To drag me home, like you have any right to do that.”

“I think I’ll leave you to it,” Ben says, chuckling as he walks away.

“It’s just as well that I did come,” Dalton grinds out.

“I was handling it!” I repeat, trying to rip out of his hold, but he reaches up with his free hand and yanks me against his body.

“You were not!” he snaps.

“You’re making a scene!”

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