“Well, yes…” He brushed his thumb along the back of her hand. “And I’ll deal with the laundry later. But right now, I’m going to kiss you.”
She sucked in a breath. “Because of the past?”
“Because of thepresent.”
Alastair leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his, surprised at the tenderness she brought out in him.
So strong, but she needed protecting. So proud, but she needed support. And there was so much more…
Several minutes passed, hands exploring, hearts racing, and the kiss that began like a gentle rain erupted into lightning and thunder.
Ragged breaths broke the silence when Daisy drew back, ducking her head.
He should be sorry. He was not.
He should regret it. He did not.
“This is all too much.” She stared at her hands, both planted on his shoulders. “Part of me wants to throw caution to the wind, but I’ve been here before. And…”
“There are no assurances, are there?”Blast and damn.
“It’s… complicated. And a little terrifying,” she admitted, finally looking up at him again.
“We need to… wait,” he said. Doubt and pain lurked in her gaze, and as much as he wanted to promise her the world…
She didn’t answer but pushed herself to stand, and after sending him a sad little smile, she disappeared into the kitchen.
Leaving Alastair to curse the person who’d treated her so callously in the past.
But also making a vow.
Hewouldbring joy back to those blue eyes of hers. He’d ensure she had a reason to laugh every single day.
Unless fate wasn’t playing matchmaker after all—but was instead playing a cruel joke on them both.
SETTLING IN
Following the uncomfortable admissions Daisy made when showing Alastair the article, she had anticipated awkwardness between them—hesitant glances, strained silences…
Oddly enough, though, none of that happened.
If anything, the atmosphere in her small home seemed lighter, clearer, as though the tension between them had broken and drifted away like storm clouds after a summer rain. Perhaps it was because, in the end, they’d been honest. Painfully honest, yes, but at least the air was clear.
Or perhaps it was simply that she refused to dwell on what she couldn’t control. Alastair was here, and he was safe. For the moment, that was all that mattered. She would not waste this time worrying about what the future held, because there was no guarantee of a tomorrow—at least not one that included him.
No sense borrowing trouble.
And although his presence seemed to affect every part of her being, the two of them seemed to have reached a silentunderstanding—to resist, for now, the undeniable attraction that lingered just beneath every interaction. Aside from an occasional spark, moments where Daisy struggled not to reach out and brush a lock of hair from his brow or to simply touch his hand, conversation flowed effortlessly between them, just as it always had.
Gentle banter about the weather, the latest eccentricities of her clients, Gilbert’s schooling—simple topics, yet each felt rich and meaningful because they shared them together.
It was remarkable how quickly they slipped into that easy rhythm, as though their bond had never truly been broken—only paused.
And since Alastair had no trouble recalling his academic knowledge, the two of them could discuss current political issues, such as taxation and the Voters’ Reform Act, along with other Parliamentary goings-on, and even fictional books they’d both read.
And her soap.
Alastair listened but also assisted in tending the garden while she described the importance of her fragrant oils and other key ingredients that made her soaps superior. The days flew by, and the evenings took on similar idyllic rituals. Once Gilbert learned the extent of Alastair’s breadth of knowledge, her brother happily discussed his latest lessons while Daisy cooked supper.
