Daisy Tames David

Daisy smiled without warmth. “How reassuring. I’d hate for a piece of paper to develop independent thought.”

The guard’s mouth tightened. Behind him, another security man touched the wire at his ear. Daisy caught the movement and shifted her weight, making sure he saw that she had noticed. Alderwick’s entrance was designed to make people feel watched. The walls were too high, the lamps too bright, and every polished surface reflected a little more than it ought to.

She had no intention of being intimidated by décor.

“I’m here to see someone,” she said.

“Everyone inside is here to see someone.”

“Mine is missing.”

That earned her half a second of silence.

Then the guard returned the invitation. “You’ll have to leave.”

Daisy tucked the card into her pocket. Rain ticked against the brim of her hat. “I’m not leaving.”

The guard’s expression shifted from bored to professionally offended. “Miss - ”

“Daisy.”

His eyes flicked over her face. “Miss Daisy, step away from the entrance.”

“No.”

A door opened behind him.

The music seemed to thin around the figure who emerged, though Daisy knew perfectly well that orchestras did not pause for men. David simply had the kind of presence that made other people behave as if they had.

He wore a black dinner jacket with no visible crease, no visible impatience, and no visible mercy. His dark hair was brushed back from his forehead, exposing a sharp, controlled face. He moved down the shallow steps without hurry, one hand resting lightly at his side.

Daisy hated that she noticed his hands first.

Long fingers. Clean nails. A silver watch catching the lantern light.

He stopped beside the guard and looked at her as if she were an unexpected line item in an otherwise flawless account.

“Problem?” he asked.

The guard straightened. “She has no authorization.”

“I have authorization,” Daisy said. “Your people simply have poor filing habits.”

David’s gaze settled on her. It was not warm. It was worse than warm. It was attentive.

“What is your name?”

“You heard him.”

“I heard a name. I asked for yours.”

Daisy stepped closer to the bottom stair. The rain had chilled her sleeves, but his attention moved over her with a heat she refused to acknowledge. “Daisy Marlowe.”

Something changed in his eyes. Not recognition exactly. Assessment.

“Daisy Marlowe,” he repeated.

“Try not to sound so alarmed.”

“I’m not alarmed.”

“Disappointed, then?”

“Not yet.”

The guard glanced between them, uncertain whether he was supposed to intervene or enjoy the spectacle. David did not look away from Daisy.

“You’re trespassing,” he said.

“I’m standing outside your door.”

“Attempting to enter without permission.”

“I was invited.”

“By whom?”

Daisy felt the folded paper against her ribs. The name on it was not one she could offer him. Not if her contact had been right. Trust no one inside.

“That’s private.”

David’s expression became almost pleasant. “Then you’ll have to keep your private business somewhere else.”

“Your event is the somewhere else.”

“Not tonight.”

She climbed one step. The guard moved immediately, blocking the way.

Daisy looked at him, then at David. “Do all your employees obey you this quickly, or is he simply afraid you’ll have him buried beneath the hydrangeas?”

“No one is buried beneath the hydrangeas,” David said.

“Good. I was worried the landscaping had been overpraised.”

His mouth barely moved, but she saw the beginning of something there - an almost-smile, strangled before it could become evidence. That tiny failure of control irritated her more than his coldness. She wanted to see it again.

Which was absurd.

She had come to find a missing man, not admire the mouth of the man who owned the building.

David stepped closer. The guard withdrew by half a pace, leaving Daisy with no doubt about who truly controlled the door.

“You’re wet,” David said.

“I noticed.”

“You’re angry.”

“Brilliant deduction.”

“And you’re carrying something you don’t want my security team to find.”

Daisy’s fingers tightened around the paper in her pocket.

There it was. The ruthless part. Not the expensive clothes or the silent guards. The way he watched for the smallest betrayal in a person’s body and reached for it without apology.

“You’re very observant,” she said.

“I’m very careful.”

“Careful men don’t let strange women stand in the rain.”

“Careful men don’t let strange women inside.”

“Then we’re both disappointed.”

For one long moment, neither moved. Rain slid from the brim of Daisy’s hat and dropped between them. She could smell wet stone, cedar smoke from the hall, and the faint clean spice of David’s cologne. He was close enough now that she could see the tiny scar cutting through one eyebrow.

A man who had been hurt and decided never to explain it.

Daisy knew the type. She had met them in mirrors.

David’s attention dropped briefly to her mouth. It returned to her eyes so quickly she might have imagined it, except the air between them had altered.

“Search her,” he said.

The female guard approaching from the side wore black gloves and an expression carved from duty. Daisy’s pulse kicked - not from fear, but from the sudden certainty that if they found the paper, the only lead she had would vanish into David’s hands.

She backed down one step.

David noticed.

“Ah,” he said softly. “There it is.”

Daisy pulled off her glove and slapped the wet leather against his chest.

The guard gasped. Somewhere behind David, a glass broke.

David looked down at the glove, then back at Daisy. He did not raise his voice. That made it worse.

“Touch me again,” he said, “and I’ll have you removed.”

“Touch me first and you’ll regret having hands.”

His eyes sharpened. “You assume I need to touch you.”

“I assume you need to threaten people because asking politely would make you feel powerless.”

The silence that followed had weight.

David took one step toward her. Daisy refused to retreat, though every instinct warned her that he was not a man who bluffed. His hand rose - not to grab her, but to take the glove from his jacket. He held it between two fingers.

“You came here looking for someone,” he said. “You’re willing to make a scene to get inside. That means either you’re reckless or desperate.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“No. But desperate people can be useful.”

“I’m touched.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

The door behind him opened again, spilling music and warmth over the steps. A woman in a silver gown paused inside, glanced at Daisy, and hurried away when David looked over his shoulder.

He had not raised his voice. He had not needed to.

Daisy hated the small, unwilling thrill that moved through her. Power was attractive when it was disciplined. It was even more attractive when it met resistance and did not immediately turn ugly.

David faced her again. “Give me one reason I should let you in.”

“Because if my contact is inside, your security has already failed.”

The words landed.

His expression did not change, but his hand closed around the glove.

Daisy continued, quieter now. “And if he isn’t inside, someone wants you to believe he is. Either way, your perfect evening has a crack in it.”

“You’re assuming I care about your contact.”

“I’m assuming you care about cracks.”

A gust of wind swept rain beneath the archway. Daisy shivered before she could stop herself.

David saw that too.

He turned to the guard. “Clear the east corridor.”

The guard blinked. “Sir?”

“Now.”

Then David looked at Daisy. “You may enter.”

Her relief was immediate and humiliating. She covered it with a tilt of her chin. “How generous.”

“Don’t mistake permission for trust.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You’ll remain with me.”

“No.”

His gaze cooled. “That wasn’t a request.”

“I’m not searching for my contact while attached to your sleeve.”

“Then you’re not searching for him.”

Daisy stepped closer until only a breath separated them. “You don’t get to lock every door and call yourself safe.”

Something flickered across his face.

Not anger. Not quite.

The words had found a place beneath the armor.

David leaned down just enough that his voice became private. “And you don’t get to storm into my house, insult my staff, assault me with wet leather, and dictate terms.”

“I didn’t assault you. I accessorized you.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth again. This time he let it linger for one dangerous heartbeat.

Then he held out his arm.

“Inside,” he said. “Under my supervision.”

Daisy looked at his offered arm as if it were a trap. It was certainly a trap. David did not offer anything without calculating what it would cost him - and what it would cost the person accepting.

The door stood open behind him. Warmth beckoned. So did answers.

She placed her hand on his arm.

His sleeve was smooth beneath her palm. Muscle shifted under it, controlled and steady. David glanced down at her fingers, and the look he gave her was not approval.

It was warning.

Daisy smiled. “Try to keep up.”

He guided her through the entrance.

Alderwick Hall swallowed them in gold light, polished marble, and music too beautiful to trust. Guests turned as David led her past them, his hand settling at the small of her back - not possessive, exactly, but firm enough to make his message clear.

She was under his control.

Daisy leaned closer, keeping her smile fixed for the watching crowd. “If you squeeze any harder, people may think this is romantic.”

“If people think that,” David murmured, “they’ll be wrong.”

“Pity. You almost looked interested.”

“I’m interested in finding out whether you’re a threat.”

“And if I am?”

His hand tightened once.

“Then I’ll make sure you stay where I can see you.”

Daisy turned her head, catching the hard line of his profile. “That sounds less like protection and more like captivity.”

“Only if you try to leave.”

The music swelled around them. Somewhere beyond the ballroom, a door clicked shut.

Daisy felt the folded paper in her pocket and the heat of David’s hand at her back.

She had gotten inside.

Now she had to find her missing contact without letting David discover why she had come - or how badly she needed the answer.

And, far more dangerously, she had to discover why being watched by him felt less like a punishment than a promise.

End of chapter one. 38 more chapters and about 99,038 words in the full book.