“Would you like to play a game?” he asked. His tone was more seductive than he intended. He cleared his throat.
“I’ve never been good at cards.”
“I can show you a simple game Amelia and I played as children. But you’ll have to come closer.”
She approached slowly until she stood at his hip. Sam focused on his cards, gathering them up again and reshuffling. He passed her half the deck, and she raised both brows.
“How do I play?”
“We each set down a card. The highest card wins, and you keep it in a separate pile. When you run out of cards the person with the most cards at the end wins.”
“Seems simple enough.”
“It is. Are you familiar with the card faces?”
She nodded, and the firelight danced over her cheeks and mouth. He gripped his cards tighter.
“You go first,” he said.
She put down a card face up, and he set down his. “You win.”
She beamed, and the whole room brightened. Those same shadows that had darkened his room before withered under her radiance. If he could somehow rig the game to make her win every hand and never stop smiling, he would, but this game was pure chance. Their piles grew and he finally set down his last card. A two. He was certain she would beat him, and he counted the seconds until she set down her card. An eight. Their gazes locked, and she bit her lip, smiling shyly. His stomach hollowed, and he gripped the edge of the coverlet to keep from reaching for her. It would be physically excruciating to reach across the small space between them and pull her toward him, but so was this lust churning inside his weakened body.
Why did she affect him like this? Was it his injury? The weeks of celibacy? Perhaps this was a good sign. His health must be returning. If he was tempted to seduce a woman, even one as undoubtably untouchable as Blakewood’s little sister, then he was ready to get out of this bed, get back on his feet, and take his life back.
She gathered her cards together, her gaze breaking from his. Color filled her cheeks, and Sam could have groaned. She was utterly gorgeous. Lovely, like a sunset whose beauty catches you off guard no matter how many times you’ve seen one.
That was Daisy.
Whatever was happening inside him wasn’t good, but he was too weak to stop this burgeoning infatuation. As long as he didn’t act on it, these thoughts and feelings would simply be his secret, and bloody hell, it made him feel alive again. He’d be damned if he’d deny himself her company after h e’d gone through so much. He had so little to distract him from his misery—he would be selfish now without compunction or guilt.
“Daisy—may I call you Daisy?”
She nodded as she handed the stack of cards back to him. His fingers brushed hers, and his chest squeezed painfully as he leaned closer to grab her hand so she couldn’t slip away too quickly. An idea had struck him. Stupid and impulsive, yes, but just maybe brilliant as well. And it would ensure him more of her company. If tonight proved anything, it was that he couldn’t get stronger by himself. He needed someone to help him.
“Yes.” Her gaze dropped to their hands. His large hand nearly consumed hers.
“I need your help.”
“Myhelp?”
He nodded. “I need to regain my strength, but no one here will let me take more than a step away from this bed.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure I can help you.”
“You can. If you would come when no one else is around and help me up, I could get more exercise and recover much faster.”
She shook her head and bit her lip. Sam tugged her, and she landed beside him on the mattress with both hands next to his waist. The side of his chest felt like it was tearing open as he leaned closer, but he knew it was just his rib complaining. Hecupped the back of her head and smoothed his thumb over that bottom lip, tugging it free of her teeth. Her wide eyes met his, and her breathing quickened. He’d surprised her, but she wasn’t pulling away.
“You don’t know how serious this is. There is a lot at stake for me and I need to recover more swiftly than they will allow me. But it has to be in secret. Please.”
Her gaze wandered over his face and chest. “You don’t look that ill.”
“It is a complex situation. It looked like I was recovering before, but then my bleeding got worse, and I was going to die for certain if Dr. Sloan hadn’t performed his experimental surgery. By all accounts, it’s miracle I’m alive, but the rumors that are presently shredding Amelia’s standing in society are also claiming I’m dead.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I can’t imagine what you are feeling.”
“Then you must imagine how terrified Amelia was. And your brother. They carried the burden of my injury alone and kept it secret from society as long as they could to prevent my aunt and cousin from making the situation drastically worse. But there isn’t anything more they can do for me. I need to do the rest on my own.”
