Page 51 of The Rogue and His Flower

“Now I know you’re desperate. I’m not your type, remember? Or maybe you do just fuck anyone with a vagina.”

“After tonight, I’m beginning to see the error of my ways.”

“Well, that’s a step in the right direction, I guess,” she replies, moving to stand.

“Daisy, just wait a second,” I say, pulling on her hand, not willing to let her go just yet. This isn’t like me, I don’t do this kind of thing. Talking with women is usually just a prelude to fucking, but I’m enjoying my time with Daisy and, admittedly, I don’t want it to end.

“What?” she asks, sitting back down.

“I never told you how beautiful you look,” I say.

“Actually, you did, back in the ballroom,” she points out. “Unless of course that was all part of the act.”

“It wasn’t. I meant it, and I want to say it again. You look incredible tonight. That dress is perfect for you. You truly are the belle of the ball. I also happen to like the colour very much, it reminds me of something…”

“What?”

“Did you choose it because it matches the colour of my eyes?” I ask teasingly.

She rolls her eyes. “You really are extremely egotistical. I chose it because it made me feel good.”

“Is that so?”

My gaze drops from her face to the sweetheart neckline of her dress, and the way her pale, freckled skin seems to shimmer in the moonlight, and I find myself wondering how she’d react if I reached out and trailed my fingers across her skin, feeling her softness. Would her breath catch? Would she flinch away, or lean into my touch? Would she want me to touch her as much as I want to touch her right now?

“Would it be so wrong if I kissed you?” I ask, the words tripping out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Her eyes widen, a blush spreading across her cheeks as our gazes clash. “You want to kiss me?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“You asked if it would be wrong to kiss me, not that you want to.”

“Okay then, can I kiss you, Daisy?” I ask, shifting closer, my hand cupping her cheek as I rest my forehead against hers. “Because I really fucking want to.”

“Aren’t you the kind of man who just takes what he wants?” she whispers back, her lips tantalisingly close to mine.

“Usually, yes,” I admit.

“So why aren’t you then?”

“Because I want you towant meto kiss you.”

“That’s new…”

“It is,” I agree. “Maybe Iwasabducted by aliens.”

“It would explain a few things,” she replies, her soft laugh dying on her lips as I brush my lips ever so gently against hers.

“So, can I kiss you?”

“I don’t want to make a mistake,” she whispers back.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” I argue, wanting so badly for her just to give in, to let me taste her sweetness, to savour this moment and explore whatever the hell is happening between us, because something’s shifting, and I need to figure out what that is. I need to know if this is just my desire to fuck burning brightly within me, or if it’s because I’ve been spending so much time with her without the tightly bound constraints of my relationship with Drix keeping me in check, or if this is something else entirely.

She pulls back, putting space between us once again. “But that’s where you’re wrong. Ithasto mean something, Dalton, or what’s the point?”

Sliding her hand from mine, she stands. “We should probably go inside now.”

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