Chapter Thirteen
Maylee was delighted at Griffin’s townhouse because it was so incredibly Griffin. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting, but at the sight of the wall-to-wall shelves, the antique maps framed on the walls, and the piles and piles of books everywhere, she clapped her hands and laughed. “It’s perfect.”
“It is?” He looked at her in surprise, and eyed his home skeptically, as if trying to see it through her eyes.
“It is,” she echoed, and when he closed the door, she knelt down and let Bubba off his leash so he could suss things out. “It looks exactly like I’d imagine a scholarly nobleman would live.”
He rubbed his jaw, and for a moment he looked embarrassed. “I suppose it does. It’s not an enormous penthouse like Logan’s, though, or a mansion like Hunter’s. I only have three bedrooms and one is set up as a library.”
“Three bedrooms in NYC?” She laughed. “Not exactly slumming it, Griff.”
He moved a pile of books off one table, hesitated, and then dumped them onto another table. “I never considered having more, truly. I grew up in forty-room palaces that never felt like home.”
She smiled, still charmed by the place. There were windows looking out onto Central Park, bookshelves everywhere, hardwood floors, and crown molding. She bet it even had two bathrooms. She loved it already. “There’s no point in a huge house if there’s only two people for it.” She picked up a book and frowned at the layer of dust on it, then looked at him. “Don’t you clean?”
He gave her a sheepish look. “I keep Kip busy enough that he doesn’t do much cleaning. And I have a lady who comes in once a week to clean up the worst of it, but I suppose there’s more to be done.”
“You’re lucky you got a second assistant, then,” she teased.
“I didn’t hire you to clean my house.”
“No, you hired me to clean your pipes.”
He was silent. Maylee looked up in surprise . . . and found that his face was scarlet with a blush. She laughed. “Come on, haven’t you ever heard that expression?”
“Not in reference to me.” He rubbed his ear, and she noticed that it was also red. How cute.
“Is your bedroom full of books, too?”
“There’s room enough for two people,” he said, and she noticed the dazed look had returned to his eyes. He adjusted himself surreptitiously. “Shall I show you?”
That sounded lovely. But first . . . she glanced around. “Where’s Kip?”
He waved a hand. “I told him to pick out a townhouse for himself. On me. I believe he’s shopping.” He grimaced. “The man does love to shop.”
“He can keep the shopping duties,” Maylee declared, and dragged Griffin into his bedroom.
***
Three days later, Griffin was the happiest he’d ever been. He had warm, wonderful Maylee in his bed, he was back home in his townhouse, and everything was perfect.
Well, almost perfect. There was a slobbering dog that he’d found chewing on a book earlier that morning, and his townhouse was currently being turned upside down by Maylee, who was determined to organize things, but overall, he was content.
He had the woman he loved in his bed, and he adored her every night for hours. Sometimes several times in one night. Just thinking about Maylee made his cock stiffen, and he got up from his window chair, setting his book aside to go find her.
He found her in the small living room, seated on the floor, cross-legged. She wore her ugly camo pajamas, but he found the sight charming now instead of appalling. And turned off the TV as soon as he came in the room. The smile she turned to him was overly bright. “Hey, you.”
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. You want a snack or something? I was just about to get one—”
As she moved to pass him, he snagged the remote out of her hand and flicked the TV back on. It was a news special about Alex and Luke’s wedding. He gave Maylee a curious look. “Didn’t get enough of it back in Bellissime?”#p#分页标题#e#
She shrugged, not meeting his gaze. “I didn’t really see the wedding itself. I was just . . . curious, I suppose.” She patted his shoulder and headed toward the kitchen.
The shoulder with the tattoo, he couldn’t help but notice. And he swore silently to himself when he saw the princess of Saxe-Gallia appear on the TV.
Maylee still had doubts. She knew he held at least one secret—that of the Brotherhood, and until she was sure he wouldn’t hurt her again, she was uneasy. He recognized the look on her face. It was the look she’d worn so often in Bellissime after he’d hurt her feelings. Guarded. Wary.