Daisy looked down at herself. She was short, yes. But small? She had indecently large breasts and hips that ruined the silhouette of the more fashionable gowns.
He cleared his throat. “Right. That won’t work.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “I’ve got it. If I can get to my knees I can stand with your help.”
“Very well,” Daisy said as she pushed her falling hair out of her face. She watched him, frowning, as he held his left arm tucked to his side and used his right to turn to the right, bringing up his knee. He paused, huffing as he supported himself on his knees with one hand on the floor. He reached for the nightstand, knocking his hand against the wood and cursing as he caught himself before falling.
Daisy rushed forward. She got on her knees and slipped under his right arm. He looked down at her in surprise as they slowly straightened together with his arm around her.
“You first,” he said.
Daisy brought one foot up to plant on the floor. He did the same. Then, together, they stood. He wavered on his feet and Daisy pressed to his side. Her cheeks flooded with color from being this close to a man, but he didn’t notice. He closed his eyes, chin dropping to his chest and taking a moment to just breathe. Daisy unabashedly studied his face, waiting for him to recover. She couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling after all that he had endured, but he still seemed so strong, so invincible, even as he labored to stay standing. She put a hand to his heart again and it had slowed. He opened his eyes and looked down at her with a smile.
“I’m alive.”
She knew. She could feel his vitality in his heart. Her body flushed with warmth, and she looked away.
“What do we do now?”
“I can manage now, thank you.”
He lifted his arm from her shoulders and sat on the bed, pulling himself back until he could lift his legs with a grunt and settle back against the pillows. He sighed heavily, then his gaze settled on her with an unnerving intensity. He glanced at the nightstand and Daisy followed his gaze.
“I was trying to reach for the cards,” he said as he pulled the coverlet over his legs.
Daisy handed them to him.
“Miss Daisy Blakewood. It has been an age since I’ve seen you.”
He looked up from his position, propped against the pillows, a deck of cards on his lap. His blue eyes caught hers and held her in their prism of color. His hair was short on the sides and longer on top, a cloud of cherubic blond curls except there was no mistaking him for an innocent and plump infant like a cupid, not even when he’d been helpless on the floor.
He was larger than she remembered, his shoulders broad and arms muscular through his thin white shirt. His forearms flexed as he shuffled the cards without looking away from her. If he were an angel, he’d fallen far from grace and smoldered in beautiful sin on the bed. Temptation. That is what he was. He studied her like she’d stumbled into his wicked lair, and now she could never leave.
His hands stalled as his gaze wandered over her, taking in her too large robe. She must look like a child compared to him. But he was only two and twenty. How could he look so manly? Like a mature man who made her blood heat and swirl in her veins. She sucked in a breath, but it was tight, her head growing lighter the longer they stared at each other without speaking. She had to say something. This was embarrassing and not how to make a good impression.
He passed a hand through his hair, tousling those wicked curls. “Don’t be frightened,” he said.
His deep voice made her legs weak. Had he sounded like his two years ago? She was going to melt into the floor if she did not say something.
“I’m not frightened.” But she was, though not in the usual sense. She did not feel in danger, but she felt many things shedid not understand, like how his voice could make her knees weak, or how just looking at his broad shoulders made her pulse race.
He resumed shuffling the cards, his gaze still holding her captive.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other,” he said. “This wasn’t how I wanted to reacquaint myself with you—lame, collapsed on the floor like an old man.”
Daisy smiled. “It’s been two years, my lord. No one could mistake you for old.” She bit her cheek and blushed, praying he couldn’t see it.
He smirked and then grew serious. “Thank you for not getting help. They worry so much about me already. If they knew I’d fallen, who knows what extreme measures Amelia would take?” His teeth grazed his bottom lip. “I need you to not tell them what happened tonight.”
Daisy nodded. “Of course, my lord.”
He smiled at her, a dimple winking in his cheek and her tummy did a pleasant somersault. “I’ll owe you a debt.”
Daisy had to break away from his enthralling stare. She watched his hands effortlessly manipulate the cards and stepped closer. Merry had mentioned Lord Alston was a master with cards. “How do you do that?”
“This?” He made the cards fly in an arch between his hands. “I could teach you.”
Daisy licked her dry lips. “Could you?”
He didn’t answer. She glanced away from his hands to his face, and his gaze was still fixed on her, the cards moving through his hands like magic.
