Page 13 of To Steal a Lyon’s Heart (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #85)

D aisy was just on the verge of sleep when she heard a sound.

Almost like a crash, but much quieter. Had it been the beginning of a dream?

She sat up, looking around her room, but it was too dark to see if anything had fallen.

Daisy slipped out of the bed, sliding her feet into slippers Amelia had bought for her today.

She lit the oil lamp beside her bed and peered around the room.

Nothing was out of place, but her heart thumped in an alarmed cadence as if she had heard something startling. She turned toward her door.

Should she ring for someone, waking them for a sound she might have heard? Daisy chewed her lip as she wavered in indecision. She considered her warm bed. She’d been ready to sleep soundly after a lovely day.

But something in the back of her mind, a sensation she couldn’t name, told her not to.

Daisy sighed and reached for the robe on her dressing screen.

She might be silly, but she would peek out of her door and see if there was anything to be worried about.

If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

Shuffling to her door as she tied the robe, she reached for the handle when she heard another soft thud.

Daisy froze, panic squeezing her heart.

What was that? Was it the wind? She turned toward the window, but there was no other sound. Why was her heart racing like this? There was nothing, unless...

Lord Alston!

Daisy ripped open her door, frantically sprinting down the hall.

Earlier, before they had learned he was sleeping, Amelia had told her how to find Lord Alston’s room so Daisy could meet them there for dinner.

They’d decided not to wake him this evening, but Daisy had discovered that his room just happened to be directly below hers.

Her lungs heaved for air as she descended the stairs in the dark, cursing her stupidity not to light a candle or summon someone more helpful, but she was nearly there.

She reached his door and wrenched it open.

At first, she saw nothing—an empty bed, the hearth, a single oil lamp—but then she heard a groan.

He was there on the floor, not moving.

“Lord Alston!” Daisy cried, running to him and sliding to her knees.

She touched his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

His face was pale, but he opened his eyes, and his gaze focused on her. The blue startled her even in the weak light.

Daisy didn’t know what to do. “I’ll ring for help,” she said.

“No,” he wheezed as he grabbed her hand tightly. “Don’t.”

“You’re hurt!”

“I’ve been hurt, this is just,” he sucked in a breath and groaned, “an unfortunate setback.”

“But I don’t know how to help you.”

He rolled to his back and held her hand to his chest. There his heart pounded violently, but with a strength that eased her fear.

“I just need a moment here. I’m all right. I just hurt the like a devil is sticking me with a pitchfork.”

Daisy took him in in stunned silence. He was beautiful. His shirt gapped at the collar revealing smooth pale-gold skin. She remembered him being tall, but not this... thick. He was heavily muscled. Not at all the frail man Amelia had spoken of.

He pinched his eyes closed as his breathing evened and after a moment, he opened them, catching her staring at his broad chest.

Daisy licked her lips. “Now may I summon help?” The pounding of his heart under her hand made her body feel warm. She’d never touched a man so intimately.

“No.”

Daisy huffed. “You can’t stay on the floor.”

He smiled crookedly. “ You can’t be Miss Daisy Blakewood.”

Daisy blushed. “I am.”

“I hardly believe it. You were a little girl last time I saw you.”

Daisy frowned indignantly. “I was not. I was seventeen. Please, may I ring for help?”

His smile faded. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You’re not in the position to stop me,” Daisy countered.

He huffed out a laugh then winced. “Please. I beg you. They can’t find me like this.”

“Why not?”

“They’ll restrain me, I’m certain. If they know I fell out of bed, Amelia might have them build me a cradle.”

Daisy looked over his large, manly body. Her gaze returned to his, and it was clear he had been watching her inspect him shamelessly.

“Then what would you have me do?”

This time it was his turn to do a visual examination of her. “You’ll have to help me up.”

Her heart skipped. “I can’t do that.”

“You’re the only one here.”

“Why can I not summon help?” Daisy begged. She would not be able to move a man of his size.

“I told you. Amelia will have a fit of hysterics.”

“Then I’ll get my brother.”

He snorted, then winced. “He is with her.”

Daisy blushed again. Of course, her brother would be sleeping next to his wife. “Oh, yes.”

Their gazes held for an uncomfortable moment before he looked away.

“Here is what we’ll do.” He let go of her hand at last, but his warmth did not leave her fingers. His color had improved. “I’m going to roll to my side and push myself into a sitting position. Then, you can pull he up with my right arm.”

Daisy’s mouth popped open. “I can’t pull you up. Are you mad?”

“Mad? It’s possible, yes, but don’t discredit yourself. Why don’t we give it a try?”

Daisy shook her head, but how could she refuse him? She looked longingly toward the bellpull. She could defy his wishes and get the proper help.

“Please,” he said softly.

Daisy turned back to him. Those crystalline blue eyes begged wordlessly, and she melted. “Fine.”

“So enthusiastic,” he said dryly. “Move back.”

Daisy shuffled back on her knees and watched as he stiffly sat himself up with a grimace. He was breathing harder now.

“There. Now, take my hand, and pull with all your weight.”

Daisy got to her feet, and he raised a brow.

“What?” she asked, shifting on her feet.

“I forgot how small you are.”

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 she did 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.

He blinked and shook his head. “I can. It’s not as hard as it seems. It requires finger dexterity, practice, and patience. Something my sister is in short supply of, but even she managed to master it.”

Daisy bit back a smile. “I am nothing if not patient.” Her thoughts flitted to Cliffton and the years she’d waited for him, self-doubt suddenly battering her heart. She pushed those thoughts aside. “However, I’m not certain how nimble I am.”

He snorted, then clutched his left side with his arm. “Bloody rib.” He refocused on her. “Apologies.”

Daisy couldn’t help smiling. “My tender ears are offended.”

“My apologies to your ears.”

“They accept.”

His mouth softened as he smiled at her. “You’re different from what I remember.”

Daisy shifted self-consciously. “So are you.”

He cleared his throat. “How are your parents?”

“Well enough. My father’s knees are a bother, but it hasn’t stopped him from wandering about to shoot at things.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“How am I different?” Daisy wanted this answer. She didn’t want to examine why.

“Like I said,” he watched his hands once more. “You’re older. No longer a girl.” His gaze flicked to her, consuming her in one swift sweep over her body.

Her skin warmed all over, even the soles of her feet. “I wasn’t a girl at seventeen.” That’s when Lady Claystone had begun to truly take hold of Daisy’s life, claiming it was time to prepare her to become the next countess.

“You were. These two years have done something to you.”

Daisy opened her mouth and then decided she had nothing to say to that and she wasn’t going to argue. “You look different as well.”

He smirked. “Do I?”

You’re much bigger than I remember.

Daisy fiddled with her hands. “More mature. Not the boy you used to be.”

He raised both brows and smiled, not directly at her, but that smile still affected her. That smile made her toes curl.

“A boy? You’ve never seen me as a boy.”

Daisy sucked in a breath. She needed cooler air to orient her thoughts. Better yet, she needed to leave. She didn’t know what to do with a man like Lord Alston, sitting there in his bed like some sort of wicked god.

“Well, I should be going. I promise I won’t tell anyone about tonight.”

He cast her a sideways glance and a smirk. “But you don’t want to leave, do you?”

Daisy bit her cheek. “It’s what I should do whether I want to or not.”

He began to set out the cards in rows on the coverlet next to him. “Should is only a suggestion. Stay a spell.”