He frowned. "But she looks inappropriate most of the time. She knows this."
"Oh, boy. Let me guess. You've told her several times that she looks inappropriate?"
"Of course. We had to buy her new clothes because her others were garish. She looked completely improper."
"Wow, Griff. A pike up your ass and a foot in your mouth. That's quite a feat."
He groaned. "So what am I supposed to do?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Why do you care?"
"What do you mean, why do I care?"
"I mean, you're a douchebag to me all the time and you never care about that. Why care about Maylee?"
He frowned. "That is none of your business."
"Ooooh," she said into the phone, and for a moment, he had the revolting thought that he'd just heard Hunter's girlfriend orgasm into the phone. But in the next moment, she sang out, "Griffin and Maylee, sitting in a tree, F U C K I N G-"
The phone clattered to the ground and Griffin held it away from his ear again. A moment later, there was a rustling on the other line, and he heard Hunter's voice. "Hello?"
In the background, Griffin could hear Gretchen's laughter.
"I'm still here," Griffin snapped. "Can't you control her?"
"No," Hunter said, and Griffin could have sworn he heard a smile in the man's voice. "But man, you've got to be nice to Maylee. She's a good girl."
"I know that," Griffin retorted. God, why were his friends so incredibly infuriating? "I was trying to do something nice for her. I thought she would like it. What woman doesn't want a makeover?"
"A woman who was just told she was ugly," Gretchen shouted on the other end of the phone.
"Take me off speakerphone," Griffin said. "Right now."
"Hunter has to go," Gretchen called out, her voice tinny and loud over the speakerphone.
"No," Griffin said. "I still need-"
"Nope, he's got to go," Gretchen yelled. "He has an enormous boner and I have to take care of it."
"God, Gretchen," Hunter said, and it sounded like they were wrestling over the phone again.
Ugh. Griffin hung up on them. Those two were like wild animals in heat. He drummed his fingers on his leg, thinking. Maybe there was something to what Gretchen had said, despite her crude mouth. Maybe he'd somehow offended Maylee after all.
He'd just have to be that much more complimentary when she returned, to let her know how nice she looked.
Then, maybe, she'd stop frowning long enough to let him kiss her again. He thought about her soft mouth and how enthusiastically she'd kissed him in return.
He definitely had to shower her with compliments, he decided. He wanted to see her face blossom into that smile that made his heart pound. That smile let him know he'd done right . . . and that she was pleased.
And he liked seeing her pleased.
***
Griffin finished adjusting his antique familial cufflinks, then examined the way his tailcoat fell in the mirror. Perfect. If it was even slightly off, his mother would flip out, declare that Griffin had gotten shoddy with his appearance, and then he'd never hear the end of it. No one cared about appearances more than Princess Sybilla-Louise, not even the queen. He examined the tails on the tailcoat with a small turn. Ludicrous. He looked like a penguin. Why did men have to dress up in such ridiculous getups for a party? He slung his bow tie over his neck and went to the door adjoining their rooms. Robert had picked up Maylee this afternoon and she'd run errands while Griffin had met with the Bellissime Museum Society to discuss a donation to fund a new wing. He hadn't seen her all day.
And it was . . . strange.
He rather missed her cheery competence and unbridled enthusiasm. Kip took everything in stride and was more of an assistant than a companion, but Maylee felt like the opposite. Now that Griffin was used to Maylee's extreme reactions to seeing new things, he found he missed that. He considered things with her eyes in mind. Would Maylee smile when she saw that souvenir stand? Would she want to go for a walk tonight and visit the chocolate district? They'd passed it on the way back from his mother's palace, and he'd stopped and purchased her a box of truffles, one of the few things that Bellissime was known for, and had them carefully packed so he could present them to her later. He wanted to see Maylee's face when she saw the expensive treat.
He wouldn't mind feeding them to her, actually. Watching her exclaim in delight at the first taste, seeing her eyes open in sensual wonder as the flavors slid across her tongue. Watch her lick her lips with pleasure and turn to him for more. Maybe she'd lick his fingers, too . . .
Griffin's pants felt uncomfortably tight. Adjusting himself with a quick movement, he counted backward from one hundred to get control over his body. When he was satisfied, he cleared his throat and moved to the door adjoining their rooms, strangely nervous. He had a small jewelry case in his hand-ancestral jewels that were attached to the Viscount Montagne Verdi title and had been since the nineteenth century. He wanted Maylee to wear them tonight, so anyone who saw her in them would know he was claiming her for his own.