Page 20 of To Steal a Lyon’s Heart (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #85)

D r. Bradley departed, and Miss Smith, after shuffling things around, left too. Daisy dragged a spindly wooden chair over in front of him and sat with a book in her free hand.

“I’m so pathetic. I couldn’t move that chair myself, but you can,” Sam muttered.

Daisy hesitantly smiled. “Are you insulting me?”

Sam blustered. “No, it was a reference to my weakness, not yours. I—” She grinned at him, and his heart flipped over. “You’re teasing.”

“I figured you might need a bit of levity. At least the doctor gave you permission to do more. You don’t need me to help you in secret.”

“Oh, no. We’ll still be doing our secret work.

If Amelia knew what we were doing, I’m sure she’d try to restrict me further.

Everyone must believe I’m recovering slowly.

” He prayed she didn’t ask him why. He did not want to reveal to her his contract and the specter of his unknown bride.

It would cast a depressing pall over their time together and he wouldn’t have that.

His time with Daisy were becoming the only bright spots in his day.

She didn’t question his reasoning, but pressed her lips together and looked down at the book in her hands.

Sam read the title and grimaced. “I don’t enjoy self-improvement. How about this?” He opened the drawer to his nightstand and pulled out a book. “ Hesta Heartstone and the Graveyard Thief.”

Daisy cocked her head to the side. “I’ve never read it.”

Sam bit back his grin. “Oh, it’s quite thrilling.”

“Is it a mystery?”

“There’s nothing mysterious about Hesta.” He opened the book to his marked page from two nights ago and cleared his throat. This was a terrible idea. Blakewood would break his arms for having his sister read a salacious novel aloud to him, but Sam couldn’t resist. He needed distraction.

She reached for the book, but he held it back. Something was still bothering him.

“I must ask you something, and I want you to be honest. Don’t hold back. I need the truth.”

She swallowed, a blush rising to her cheeks, the red so bright it must burn. Sam held one arm around his chest and leaned forward to cup her cheek. She sucked in a breath as he touched her. He was right, her cheeks were on fire.

“Why do you blush so much around me?”

Her mouth dropped open, and her glistening bottom lip stole his attention.

“I—what? I don’t have control of my blushes. I’m sorry.”

Sam yanked his gaze away from her mouth as his own blood heated. He didn’t have a pillow within reach to cover his groin this time.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

She shook her head, and he dropped his hand and settled back, drawing in a tight breath as his rib protested.

“No,” she said.

“My comments don’t upset your sensibilities?”

“I’m nervous, that’s all.”

“You’ve been sheltered. Why?” he asked. Why would her parents risk keeping her from the marriage mart and an excellent match?

With her beauty and wealth, she was a diamond, even if she wasn’t a peer.

An exquisite gem that he had all to himself.

He smiled. He couldn’t help it. He had all her attention, and he loved it.

“Why? I can’t tell you why.” She looked down at her tangled fingers.

Sam frowned at her obvious discomfort. Very well, it didn’t matter much to him, not enough to upset her with questions about why she hadn’t debuted. It was obvious she was shy. If being in a room with one man made her turn into a tomato, then a ballroom full of vipers would probably make her faint.

“It’s all right. There is no point denying that you’re shy.

It’s not a terrible fault. I’ll help you bolster your confidence.

Though after knowing me, you’ll find all other men lacking.

” She glanced up at him again, her face impossibly redder.

“If you keep blushing like this, you’ll have no blood for the rest of your body. I’ve learned lately that’s important.”

She huffed out a laugh. “It’s the way you say things. I can’t help it.”

Sam’s heart sank. “You don’t like it?”

“No, I do. But I don’t know how to react. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. Is it appropriate to laugh?”

Feel? Feelings were dangerous territory. “Of course you can laugh. Laughter is one of life’s greatest treasures. You’ll get used to me.”

“I will?”

“Daisy, I say the things I say to amuse you. It’s intentional. I want to make you smile and blush. I want to hear you laugh. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You can tell me if I cross the line. I won’t be angry or embarrassed. You can trust me.”

She chewed her lip with what he thought was bashfulness.

“Should I keep doing it?” he asked.

She nodded. “I enjoy it, even if my face says otherwise. I’m sure at some point I’ll become accustomed to you, as you say.”

He almost hoped not. “I have an idea. What if I read to you instead, and we’ll do exercises like this morning right here? I can practice lifting my foot and straightening it.”

She nodded, still chewing that lip. He’d have to pull it away from her teeth himself if she didn’t stop. Her mouth was so distracting. He cleared his throat and focused on the book. On this page, Hesta was about to come upon the graveyard thief.

“I’m warning you, this is not a book your brother would consider appropriate for you.

Amelia has read it, and I think it’s a good place to practice being unaffected.

The key to remaining calm in situations like a crowded ballroom when men are vying for your hand is to appear bored, not rudely so, but aloof.

It adds an edge of intrigue to your character that will draw more attention. ”

“Do I want attention?”

He sighed. “You want the right attention.”

“From whom?”

Bollocks, she was so innocent. “Suitors. But not every man you come across will strike your fancy romantically, and thus, they may become friends.”

Her eyelashes fluttered. “Do ladies generally have male friends? Is that allowed?”

“It is as long as their conduct is proper. For example, you and I are friends. Excuse the circumstances right now, as I am infirm. You wouldn’t socialize in a man’s room, but in a drawing room, a dance floor, a garden path.

And yes, you can speak to your male friends.

If I learned anything from having a sister, it is that women can be just as humorous, witty, and engaging as any man. Why wouldn’t we be friends?”

“I see.” Her fingers stopped fidgeting and she folded her hands in her lap.

Sam cleared his throat and started to read. “Hesta lifted the lantern high, the yellow glow too weak to permeate the thick fog blanketing the gravestones. But she could hear grunting and heavy breathing coming through the mist that dampened her thin nightgown...”

“Why is she in a nightgown in a graveyard?” Daisy asked.

“She’s the vicar’s daughter. The graveyard is by her bedroom window.”

“But still.”

Sam held a finger to his lips. “Just listen.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Raise your leg.”

Sam smiled at her cheek but did so. It amazed him how many muscles he needed to lift his foot.

From his abdomen to his foot, everything flexed as he lifted.

He did a few more repetitions, and he was out of breath.

But he continued to read about Hesta and her midnight quest through the graveyard, and Daisy stopped blushing, but she didn’t stop smiling.