Free Spooning Daisy by Maggie McConnell Page B

when Daisy exited the bathroom looking . . . not quite the same as when she entered. Her hair had been smoothed, the shine on her nose had been powdered, and her lips glossed. Even her eyes, while still suffering from the effects of Daisy’s tear-fest, looked calmer and less dire. Could that be why she wanted the lettuce? He’d heard of cucumbers for the eyes, but maybe in a pinch . . .
    Even so, that didn’t explain either the chicken pâté or the pureed peas. Neither did it explain why Daisy suddenly cared about her appearance, when he was surely the last person she wanted to impress. To Daisy, Max must seem as ruthless and heartless as Caligula.
    A half smile lifted his lips. He had a passion for history, especially ancient. He absolutely believed that those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it. But he’d never actually dated a woman who shared his interest, let alone one who knew about the infamous Roman emperor. Not that he liked his women dumb—although why Tina was with Daisy’s ex, Max couldn’t fathom. But even more unfathomable was Daisy and Jason. What had she seen in that guy?
    “What?” Daisy growled, feeling Max’s eyes on her.
    “I didn’t say anything.”
    “You’re staring at me.”
    “This cabin is small. I have to look somewhere.”
    “Well, look over there.” Daisy waved in the direction of the bed.
    Max tried, but the dog food creeped him out. “I’m . . . gonna go.”
    Daisy stopped mid-chew and swallowed hard. “You are?”
    He eased off the sofa. “You sound disappointed.”
    “Surprised. I didn’t think getting rid of you would be this easy.”
    Yep , Daisy Moon was a whole ’nother species of woman. And he’d bet the farm she knew exactly who Caligula was. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”
    “No such thing as a free lunch, eh, decent guy?”
    Max stayed his course, but he smiled. “If you can tell me who Caligula is, I’ll buy you dinner.”
    “Are you kidding? What’s the catch?”
    “Just tell me who he is and dinner is yours.”
    Max Kendall rubbed her like a cheese grater, but she had no money, no food, and if she worked it right, she could probably stretch dinner into a doggy-bag breakfast. “First of all, he’s not an is , he’s a was .” Her tone suspicious, Daisy continued. “His real name was Gaius. Caligula is a nickname that comes from the word for the boots worn by Roman soldiers. It means little boot; his mom dressed him in those when he was a kid and the name stuck. He was a real terror; some think insane. He ruled only four years before he was assassinated at twenty-eight. But he really loved his horse.”
    “And?”
    “That’s what I know.” Thanks to the President’s Scholars history course she took in college and the term paper she had written. But she never imagined it would be useful information. She almost felt lucky, but the last time she felt like this, she lost her money, car, and credit cards.
    “ And ,” Max prompted again, “I remind you of him.”
    Taken aback, she paused. “Maybe around the eyes.”
    Max wasn’t sure whether he felt surprise . . . or relief. “I’ll meet you in the dining room at six.” He squeezed past Daisy at the vanity, wincing as the blood pounded into his bound leg.
    “You will shave and shower, won’t you?”
    “Unfortunately, Ms. Moon, the chaise lounges in the solarium do not come with a private bath. And the on-board public showers are too hard to manage with my knee.”
    “Bummer.”
    “Yeah, well, I’m dining with you, so we pretty much cancel each other out.”
    His hand was on the doorknob when Daisy said, “You’re more the Machiavelli type.”
    He looked over his shoulder. The gleam in her eyes harbored something he couldn’t quite discern. But he should probably be cautious.
    “If you can tell me who he is, I’ll let you use my shower.”
    He turned. “Niccolò Machiavelli was a sixteenth century Italian politician who believed that all is fair in love and war,