"Whatever that is," he told her, "I'm sure I am."
She reached forward and straightened his collar, smoothing it. "Tie?"
He pulled it out of his pocket and offered it to her.
Maylee began to fix his appearance, and he watched as she licked her lips as she concentrated. "I'm not a quitter, you know."
"Hmm?" He was captivated by those lips. Her upper one was a small half bow, but her lower one was full and lush. It made her look like she was constantly pouting, like she was begging to be kissed. He found those lips utterly entrancing, especially when they gleamed after she licked them.
"I said, I'm not a quitter," she repeated as she expertly looped his tie into a knot. "You can pile as much shit onto me as you like, but I'm staying. I'm a Meriweather. We don't run and hide from our troubles. You can be as mean to me as you want, Mr. Griffin, but I'm going to do my job to the best of my ability, no matter how nasty you are."
She thought he was nasty to her? He got frustrated, but . . . he liked her. Hell, parts of his body liked her entirely too much. "I'm sorry," he told her, and meant it. "I wasn't trying to be nasty. I'm not good with . . . people."
"I know," she said, and gave his tie a pat. "But I like you anyhow."
That smile did in all his self-control. Griffin's hands went to her shoulders and he dragged her forward a few steps, pressing his mouth to hers in a tight, awkward kiss. She was stiff in his arms-hopefully in surprise-so he relaxed his mouth and swept his tongue against the seam of hers, encouraging her to let him in.
He felt her give a gasp, and then her hands grabbed his lapels, and she was kissing him back, her mouth opening to accept his tongue.
And oh, f**k, it was glorious.
Maylee's tongue swept against his, their lips melding, and he realized she kissed with all the intensity and enthusiasm that she approached life with. She kissed like there was no tomorrow. She kissed like it was her greatest joy on earth. She kissed and tongued and licked and made these low noises in her throat that told him how much she was enjoying the kiss.
And his c**k was as bloody hard as a rock.
He groaned when her tongue rubbed against his. He wanted to push her down on the bed and strip that dowdy, prim suit off her and see what she was wearing underneath. Camo underwear? He didn't f**king care. On her, it'd be amazing.
She broke the kiss, mewing little pants escaping from her throat. "Oh. Oh, dear."
He blinked at her, dazed. "What?" He needed to kiss her mouth again. To feel it part under his tongue, to thrust into her mouth and feel her receive him . . . and imagine that it was his cock.
"We shouldn't be doing this."
That was a blast of cold water on his ego. He stepped away from her. Oh, f**k. He was sexually harassing an employee, wasn't he? Dear God, he was a repulsive, repulsive man.
Her fingers patted his jacket, smoothing where she'd clutched it. "You're going to be late to your lunch appointment."
Fuck his lunch appointment. He scrubbed his good hand down his face. "Maylee, I sincerely apologize for touching you."
"Why? It was a mighty good kiss."
He didn't know what to say. "I shouldn't have kissed you in the first place."
"Oh." She flinched. "I see."
"Because of who you are," he said quickly.
Her look grew even more hurt.
"No, no," he said. "It's not the commoner thing. Well, it is partially that, but-"
"We should go, Mr. Griffin. I mean, Mr. Verdi." And she was back to giving him those hurt, unhappy looks all over again.
Hell, he'd f**ked up once more.
Chapter Eight
To Griffin's surprise and pleasure, breakfast at his mother's included the bride-to-be and the groom. He liked his cousin Alexandra. She was levelheaded and rarely ruffled by the pettiness of court. They ate a formal lunch, but when everyone left the table to mingle and walk the grounds after the meal, he sought out Alexandra.
"Your Highness?"
Alexandra turned and gave Griffin a delicate smile. "Hello, cousin."
Like many in the Bellissime royal family, Alexandra wasn't a beauty. She had regal, elegant features, but there was a hint of sternness to her face that bespoke of a woman who got her way. There was no softness in his cousin, Griffin mused. Not like Maylee, who wore her heart in her eyes at all times.
"May I talk to you for a moment?" Griffin asked. "It is in regards to a personal matter."
"Of course," Alexandra said, and offered him her hand. He placed it in the crook of his elbow and they strolled into his mother's famous gardens. When they were alone, Alexandra craned her neck, looking around. When she was satisfied they were alone, she gave him a devilish grin. "We can drop the formalities now that your mother isn't around. I swear, she breaks into hives every time she hears Luke call me Alex." She nudged him with her elbow. "So, what's troubling you, Griff?"