Good Girl or Gold-Digger? (13 page)

The day that Felix and Daisy signed the contract making him a partner in the fairground, they shook hands on the deal. It was the first time he’d touched her for weeks, and it made him want more. Even though it was merely a polite business handshake, it sent ripples of desire all the way through him.

He couldn’t help catching her eye, and she was definitely looking at his mouth. He watched colour bloom in her cheeks as she glanced up and realised he’d caught her. And then, very deliberately, he looked at her mouth before glancing up again to meet her gaze.

Felix had a feeling that they were thinking the same way: maybe they should seal the deal properly. With a kiss.

And how he wanted to kiss her. How he wanted her
to kiss him back, slide her arms round his neck and press her body against his. How he wanted to peel her clothes off and lose himself in her.

Maybe, Felix thought, it was time to take a risk.

L
ATE
that evening, Daisy had just made herself a mug of tea and flopped in a chair in the kitchen when her doorbell rang.

She wasn’t expecting visitors. Maybe it was Annie or Alexis, bearing chocolate and intending to nag her about letting up the pace a bit. She psyched herself up to smile brightly, then headed for the door.

When she opened it, she blinked in surprised. ‘Felix.’

He was the last person she’d expected. She’d told him it was strictly business between them.

Then again, he’d caught her staring at his mouth this morning, remembering what it was like to kiss him and wishing things were different.

‘Hello, Daisy. May I come in?’

No. Not if she was to have a hope in hell of keeping him at a distance in future.

‘I need to talk to you about something,’ he said softly. ‘Something important.’

His face was utterly sincere. And there were shadows beneath his eyes that told her he’d been having trouble sleeping, too. Maybe the situation was
as tough for him as it was for her. Not that she dared let herself hope.

‘OK,’ she said finally.

‘I just need to get something from the car,’ he said.

Oh. Paperwork. Well, of course he’d only be here for business purposes. ‘Sure. I’m in the kitchen. Do you want a cup of tea?’

‘No. But thank you for asking.’

How had they become reduced to this distant politeness? Then again, she’d been the one who’d insisted on the terms: work, and nothing else. It was her own fault.

When Felix came into the kitchen, he was carrying a large, deep cardboard box.

‘What’s that?’ she asked.

‘Props.’

‘Props? What kind of props?’ She wasn’t following a word of this. Or maybe she’d fallen asleep at her kitchen table and was having some kind of surreal and very realistic dream. When she woke, she’d be alone, and there was so much distance between herself and Felix, he might as well be on the other side of the world.

She pinched herself surreptitiously. It hurt. So he really was here.

What she didn’t understand was why.

He set the box at the far end of her kitchen table. ‘I’m giving you a biology lesson.’

Daisy thought of his naked body and blushed to the roots of her hair.

‘About plants. Botany,’ he corrected himself hastily.

‘I don’t need a botany lesson.’

‘Yes, you do. We both do.’ He paused. ‘I’m going to tell you about daisies. There are lots of different kinds of daisy. And each one is like a different part of you.’
He reached into the box and brought out a pot. ‘This is the English daisy,
Bellis perennis.
The name’s from the Saxon, meaning “day’s eye”, because it opens in the morning, follows the sun and closes at night. And that’s you, Daisy. A wild flower, bright as the day.’

His words made her speechless.

He handed her the pot before taking another one from the box. ‘And this is a gerbera, a different sort of daisy. Very sturdy. This is you at work, solid and dependable. Though it’s also vibrant, like you. Strong.’ He handed her the pot.

Daisy couldn’t quite work out where he was taking this. But it was clear he’d put a lot of thought into it and that he was absolutely sincere. His eyes were a deep, dark grey, and although he’d adopted a relaxed air she could almost feel the tension humming through his body. The same tension that was humming through hers.

Could he…?

‘And this,’ he said, taking out yet another pot, ‘is a rain daisy,
Dimorphotheca pluvialis
. It likes the sun and it closes if it’s going to rain. A bit like you, closing up when you’re taken away from the fairground.’

Her throat closed. Oh God, no. She was reading this completely wrong. She’d started to hope that he was telling her how he felt, but now she went cold. Was he telling her…? She had to know. ‘You’re taking the fairground from me?’ she whispered.

‘I went into partnership with you today, Daisy,’ he reminded her. ‘To make sure the fairground can’t be taken from you.’

‘So why are you doing this, Felix? Why are you showing me all these flowers?’

‘Because I want you to know something. There are
lots of different daisies. Sturdy ones, sensitive ones, wild ones and sexy ones. And all of them are
you.’

‘Sexy?’
She was completely baffled. ‘How can a flower possibly be sexy?’

He produced another pot from his box.
‘Argyrantheum,
or the Paris daisy. I know pink isn’t usually your colour, but bear with me. It’s spiky outside, with the leaves like a star. And inside it’s lush and beautiful, just like you. Sexy as hell. If this flower was human, it’d look like you do when you’ve been thoroughly kissed all over.’

She dragged in a breath. She knew precisely how many minutes it was since she’d last been in his arms. Since he’d last kissed her. Since he’d teased her with his mouth before easing into her body.

Right now, he was making love to her again. With words and flowers.

Not just any flowers, either: daisies. Flowers that made him think of her.

And he was telling her exactly how he felt about her. At last, he was opening his heart to her.

‘I wanted to get you some blue Michaelmas daisies, but apparently they flower in September, so that was a no-no. ‘This is the best I could do.’ He handed her a piece of paper with a picture of a Michaelmas daisy. ‘But you don’t expect to find a blue daisy. It’s unusual. Like you. And, just in case you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, that’s unusual in a
good
way.’

She wanted to cry. Weep. Beg him to stop if he didn’t mean it. Because right now her heart was cracking wide open.

He produced another pot. This is
Leucanthemum vulgare,
the ox-eye daisy. Sometimes it’s called the
moon daisy or the dog daisy—in France they call it “Marguerite”.’ He held her gaze. ‘And they’re the ones that are supposed to be used for “he loves me, he loves me not”. Care to try it?’

She hardly dared believe him. ‘You’re not in love with me, Felix.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘I dare you to find out.’

She wrapped her arms round herself, shivering. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Because,’ he said, ‘I think we both feel the same way. And we’re both scared to admit it, because people have hurt us in the past and we’ve hurt each other, and neither of us wants to risk it happening again. But, if we’re to have a chance, one of us has to take a risk and be the first to say it. So I’m being brave. I’m telling you what I see in you.’

All the different types of daisies. Did he really think there were so many facets to her? Shy and sensitive; solid and dependable; strong and vibrant; spiky; lush and sexy.

‘I dare you,’ he said again, his voice very soft.

She picked a single ox-eye daisy from the pot and took the petals off, one at a time. ‘He loves me, he loves me not…’

There were twenty-one white petals.

He loves me.

‘I was the one who pushed you away,’ he said quietly. ‘And it’s the biggest mistake I ever made. If it takes me the rest of my life to make it up to you, Daisy, I’ll do it. Because I love you and I want a proper relationship with you. Not just business. Not seeing each other in secret and hiding away from everyone. I want to be with you and I want the whole world to know that I’m yours and you’re mine.’

Two seconds later, she was in his arms. ‘Felix. I never thought I’d ever hear you say that. And I love you, too. These last few weeks…’

‘It’s felt as if there wasn’t any sunshine left in the world,’ Felix said.

‘Same for me,’ she whispered.

His kiss was sweet, gentle at first, and then became more demanding as she responded to him. By the time he broke the kiss, they were both breathless and her pulse was hammering.

‘I love you, Daisy. I know we’re both going to have to make compromises—I need to move my business here from London, and we’re going to have to get a bigger house. But we’ll work it out between us, because we’ll talk to each other. No clamming up. Because I’m on your side, and I want you on mine.’

‘Snap,’ Daisy said.

He kissed her again. ‘There is one last daisy,’ he said. ‘And you need to see this one.’ He handed her a retro-style toy: a daisy in a bright-orange pot wearing sunglasses. He whistled ‘Just The Way You Are’ and the flower started to dance.

She burst out laughing. ‘Felix, that’s…’ She shook her head, still smiling, unable to think of a suitable comment.

‘Seemed appropriate, with you singing all the time. And the song’s important, too. I’ll take issue with the “clever conversation” bit because I enjoy sparring with you, but the rest of it’s true. I love you as you are. I don’t want you to change. And, Daisy, I believe in you.’

‘I believe in you, too,’ she said softly.

He stroked her face. ‘there was one other thing.’

‘What?’

‘You and I—we’ve been here before. I proposed to
someone, and you accepted a proposal. And they both went wrong. But I’m not your ex, just as you’re not Tabitha. I know you don’t want me for my money.’ His grey eyes were intense. ‘And I hope you know I love you for yourself. You make my world a better place.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘Maybe I should’ve planned this better. I should’ve taken you out to dinner, walked with you on a beach in the moonlight and asked you there. But I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to be without you any longer.’ He dropped to one knee. ‘daisy Bell, will you do me the honour of marrying me? Will you be the love of my life, and never, ever change?’

And through her tears she heard herself whisper, ‘Yes.’