Page 219 of Kneel Before Me

“Hmmm.” Daphne pressed her lips together, clearly deep in thought. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Green,” Maximus answered automatically.

“Why?”

He paused. He hadn’t expected to need a reason. But he supposed he could conjure one, now that he’d been asked. “It’s the color of trees. And grass. And nature. It’s…wild and free.”

“Like horses.”

“Yes. Exactly like horses.” He looked down at her, and from her expression, could see she was satisfied with his answer. “What’s your favorite color?”

She shook her head, and her curls bounced across his leg. “I’m not done asking you questions.”

“Very well.” He shifted slightly, making it clear she had his full attention. “Ask away.”

The corner of her mouth turned up. “Why do you drink red wine?”

Maximus considered the question, realizing he had never been asked to explain his vice of choice. Why did he drink red wine? The answer was obvious, even if he did not care to say it out loud. But he was wise enough to know that this was a moment of intimacy between him and Daphne—and more importantly, a moment of trust. “Because it was Lilibet’s favorite drink.”

It hurt to talk about Lilibet, but he wanted Daphne to know this part of him. It was not a burden to be vulnerable with her. It was a privilege.

He expected Daphne to ask another question about Lilibet, but she didn’t. Instead she merely stared up at him, looking oddly peaceful. It was different than the way most people looked at him when Lilibet was mentioned: with pity. Maximus greatly preferred Daphne’s expression.

“Can I ask you something else?” she murmured.

“Of course.”

“It’s a little silly.”

He smiled. Even better. “Fire away.”

She raised her hand, touching a strand of hair that had fallen loose over his face. “Do you style it this way?”

“What way?”

“So that a little piece comes down?”

Maximus let out a laugh.

Daphne tugged gently on the strand, laughing too. “Do you?” she insisted.

“No.” He shook his head, and she released the strand. “I don’t.”

“Hm.”

“How long have you wanted to ask that?”

She gave him a mischievous smile. “Since the night we met.”

Maximus remembered that night well. He remembered the way he’d felt when he’d seen her holding this child. He remembered the way Daphne’s mouth had puckered in surprise when she realized she wasn’t alone in the room.

“You were so mad at me that night,” she whispered.

Maximus frowned. Was that really what she thought? If so, their memories of that night were vastly different. “I wasn’t…mad. I was surprised.”

She tapped the tip of his nose with her finger. “You were mad. But that’s fine.”

“Is it?”