“Why not?” she managed in a whisper.

“Because I won’t stop there. I’d push you to the bed, and take until you had nothing left to give.”

“And if I said I wanted that?”

He whispered, “Don’t.”

“Why?”

She tried to turn, but his hands held her firm, fingers digging against her hip bones. “Because I have nothing to give back, Daisy. Oh, I’d give you pleasure. We’d give each other that. But I’d take absolutely everything—I’d fucking consume you. You’d want something in return, and I’d have nothing. I’m hollow inside, and you deserve so much more.”

“Lincoln, please. We can take it slow, just one step at a time, see where it goes. I’m not looking for—”

“Yeah, you are, Daisy. You want it all. You want the dating and the romance and the courtship. The proposal, the engagement party, the marriage, the kind you dreamed about and didn’t get the first time around. You want all that, and you deserve all that. But I’m not your guy.”

“Why?” she said, a little stubbornly. “You wanted it all once.”

“Yeah.” His voice was curt. “I did. I wanted it so damn bad, and then it was ripped away. And not all at once, no clean head shot. It was like being maimed, having one piece of your heart torn out bit by bit, stretched out over fucking years.”

Her heart hurt for him. It did, but…

“If I did it, Wallflower, if I felt that way again, it would be about someone like you.”

Her eyes watered, and she tried to turn, and once again he held her firm. “But I can’t. I’m not risking it all. Not even for you.”

His hands slid away from her waist as he found the zipper tab once more, pulling it up with a quick efficient rasp before stepping back.

She felt his absence acutely, and then gathering her courage, she turned, prepared to fight him. Prepared to fight for him.

But she saw only his back, and then he was gone.

Kiwi stirred, sitting up on the pillow and staring after her master. She gave Daisy a forlorn look, as though torn. Long-term loyalty won out, and the little dog hopped down from the bed to trot after Lincoln.

Kiwi at least turned back, giving Daisy a regretful look before she too disappeared, leaving Daisy as she always was these days.

Alone.

Chapter 23

Damn you, Lincoln.

The date could have been a good one. Would have been a good one had Lincoln not, just minutes before she had to leave to meet Dan, verbally sexed her up and then brutally outlined all the ways she’d never hold his heart.

Daisy had made it through the date. It had been an odd mixture of tolerable and miserable.

Dan was a nice guy. A gentleman. He’d asked questions, been polite, been interesting. Any other day, in any other circumstance, she would have said yes to a second date.

But as they’d waited for the valet to bring their respective cars around, Dan had asked if he could call her again, and Daisy had had to tell him no.

That she was still reeling from her divorce, and she was so sorry to have wasted his time.

It was a white lie. She was reeling, but not from that bastard Gary.

The second Daisy pulled into her driveway, even before she saw that the guesthouse was dark and that his car wasn’t there, she felt it.

Lincoln was gone.

Numbly, she pulled the car into the garage and then walked into the kitchen. For the past two weeks, it had been her favorite room in the house. The place where she and Lincoln shared morning coffee, and breakfast, and the occasional afternoon happy hour.

But when she flicked on the light, there was no Lincoln sitting at the counter, waiting to tease her about her date.

There was no Kiwi jumping all over her shins, demanding affection.

There was, however, a note.

Daisy walked slowly to the counter, her heels echoing in the lonely room, as she set her clutch aside and reached for the basic yellow legal pad where he’d written his good-bye.

Daisy—

Went to visit my parents in Florida for a few days before I head back to New York. I’m sorry I didn’t wait to say good-bye in person, but it’s better this way. Trust me on this.

You’ll think me a coward, and maybe I am, but I’m also a man. A man who cares for a woman more than he knows what to do with.

I’m not asking you to wait—I don’t know that I’ll ever be what you need—but I am asking you to be happy. I need you to be happy, Daisy.

Until we meet again, Wallflower, and I sincerely hope we do,

Lincoln

Daisy read it twice, then a third time, before slowly crumpling the note with one fist.

He wanted her to be happy? She would be.

And maybe he had been right about her being a wallflower, but she was past that now. No more waiting on the sidelines for life to happen to her, waiting for some man to deem her worthy.

Daisy Sinclair was ready to take her life back. With or without Lincoln Mathis.

Part III

Chapter 24

ONE MONTH LATER

Lincoln considered himself a pretty affable guy. Not particularly territorial. But when he walked into his office after nearly two months away from Oxford—more than half of that unplanned—the last thing he wanted to see was another man in his office, behind his desk.

His office. His desk.

The other man glanced up. Not smiling, but not unfriendly either. “Hey. You must be Lincoln. I’m Nick Ballantine.”

“I know who you are.”

The other man was a good-looking dude. Dark hair, just a little bit long. Dark brown eyes, olive skin with a couple days’ scruff.