Page 43 of The Rogue and His Flower

“You’re welcome,” I reply, my cock stirring to life as she chews on her lip nervously. Fuck, I really need to get myself in check. “What is it?”

“You said that you wanted to buy me the dress because you wanted to make me happy.”

“Yes,” I agree.

“Butthingsdon’t make you happy, Dalton,” she says softly.

“I beg to differ. You looked pretty happy earlier.”

“Because you were beingthoughtful. It wasn’t about the dress per se, it was because you’re supporting my right to be an individual, to express myself with colour,thatmade me happy. I would’ve felt the same if you’d supported my right to wear one of my own dresses.”

“Well now you have a new dress,andyou have my support,” I reply with a shrug.

“I do. Thank you for both, it means a lot.” She hesitates, and I realise that she has more to say, so rather than interrupting her, I give her the space to continue. “I want to apologise too.”

“For what?”

“For ignoring you. For being distant.”

I cock my head to the side, regarding her. “I can’t deny that it’s pissed me off, but I do understand it,” I reply begrudgingly.

“You do?”

“Of course. I think we both needed some time to come to terms with our… arrangement,” I say, carefully. “I guess I’m not used to having someone?—”

“Who doesn’t follow your orders? Who refuses to fall at your feet the moment you give them your attention?” she offers, her lip tugging up into a smile.

“That wasn’t quite what I was thinking. Though I guess there is some truth in that,” I admit. “I guess, if nothing else, this whole situation is a test of my control.”

“Control?” Daisy echoes, her brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m used to being in control of everything around me. My work, my social life, and especially my relationships.”

“Relationships?” she snorts out a laugh. “Booty calls, you mean?”

I give her a look but don't rise to the bait. “When you didn’t respond to my texts the other day, I was angry, and then whenI saw that prick manhandle you, I lost it,” I explain, offering her the truth. “You defied me, and put yourself in danger.”

“I’m my own person, Dalton. You can’t control me. I won’t let you, so you really should stop trying.”

“You don’t bend to my will,” I continue. “And admittedly, that’s both frustrating and intriguing. It’s not something I’ve had to deal with before.”

“Do womenreallythrow themselves at you?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” I counter.

“I know they must, given your reputation. I guess I just wonder what you get out of it, whattheyget out of it. I mean, apart from the obvious,” she says.

“People like to fuck, Daisy. I like to fuck. I don’t really need anything else.”

“What about friendship?”

“I have male friends for that.”

She frowns. “Okay then, what about connection? Don’t you wantmorethan just a long list of one night stands?”

Silence descends between us as I contemplate her question. “I think I’ve just never really found someone worth building a relationship with,” I finally say, and whilst it’s not the complete truth, it’s as much as I’m willing to share in the moment.

“I see, and now here you are stuck with me,” Daisy replies, her attention drawn to the waiter as he returns to the table, setting down a bottle of sparkling water, a bowl of juicy green olives smothered in oil, and some warm bread.

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