Expecting to be hurt at any moment.
He groaned and rubbed his face in frustration, nearly knocking his glasses off his face. What the devil was he going to do to prove to her that he loved her? To make her feel safe and comfortable with him?
He’d told Maylee that he loved her a dozen times a day.
She’d never once said it back. He kept waiting and hoping that she’d relax, become more at ease around him, and then she’d realize that she felt as strongly for him as he did for her. But holding back her “I love you” seemed to be some sort of armor for her. That as long as she didn’t expose herself fully, she could still escape him unscathed.
He wasn’t planning on letting her go, though.
Frustrated, he listened to Maylee putter around in the kitchen. He went in and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m going to finish my studies.”
“All right,” she said, and her voice was a little too bright again. “I’m going to straighten up in here.”
He retreated back to his office, and instead of heading for his books, he picked up his phone. He stared at the screen for a moment, thinking. He could call Hunter and ask for advice, but Hunter had that beast of a woman, Gretchen. He wouldn’t know the first thing about dealing with a heart as sensitive and delicate as Maylee’s. He needed a gentle hand.
So he called Cade, but it went to voicemail. Damn. He didn’t want to leave a lovesick message, so he tried Jonathan next.
You there? Jonathan almost never answered calls, but was an unfailing texter.
Here, came the response a moment later. What’s up?
You back in NYC?
No, headed out. Had some stuff to take care of.
Griffin thought for a moment. I need . . . advice. About a woman.
Oh, Jesus.
Piss off.
Is this about that bouncy little blonde that was with you in Spain? She was cute as a button. And it was clear she was into you.
For some reason, that made Griffin feel better. Was it?
Oh, yeah. Kept staring at you every time you spoke like you were shitting nuggets of gold.
Griffin’s mouth twitched with amusement. Her name is Maylee and I asked her to move in with me, but she’s not happy.
Why isn’t she happy? She can’t fit her shoes in with all your books? Then, a moment later . . . Why are you having this conversation with me?
I don’t know. Cade isn’t available, Reese is a prat, Hunter is terrible with women, and Logan would just suggest I buy her something.
Did you try buying her something?
She’s not into money.
Christ, how did you find the one girl in NYC who isn’t into your wallet?
That’s besides the point. She’s not happy. She’s trying to be, but I don’t think she trusts me. He thought for a moment, then texted, She left before because she thought I was hiding her because I was embarrassed.
And were you?
Originally? Yes.
Ouch, man.
Piss off. Again. Maybe it had been a bad call to go to Jonathan for advice. But hell, he was desperate. You know I’m not good with this emotion stuff.
Okay, okay. Are you still hiding her?
Of course not. She moved in. Kip thinks she’s very nice.
No one gives a shit what your assistant thinks. I meant, did you introduce her to everyone? Make her feel welcome?
Oh. He hadn’t even thought about it. You mean like Gretchen and Audrey and the others? She asked about my tattoo.
It was a long moment before Jonathan responded. Look, man, I’m not going to tell you not to tell her about the Brotherhood. I could try, but if you’re thinking with your dick like everyone else, I know it’s a lost cause. So you do what you feel is right. I trust you. We all do, or you wouldn’t be in the Brotherhood.
Griffin didn’t know what to say. I . . . see.
And one more thing.
What’s that?
If you’re in love—I mean really, really in love—you gotta move heaven and earth to show her that you love her. Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose her. And then life isn’t worth living. Take it from me, all right?
Griffin frowned at the screen. Jonathan kept himself remote from everyone, even his Brothers. To hear that confession made Griffin wonder what he was hiding. What does that mean? Is that some shoddy clue about a broken heart?
Tell you some other time. Right now, I have a plane to catch.
Later.
He clicked off his phone and thought for a long time. Did Maylee think that he wasn’t taking her seriously? Was it time to do more? Be more demonstrative? He made love to her every night. Told her he loved her several times a day. They went for long walks in Central Park together, holding hands and walking the dog. He’d even let her bring her foul beast to New York City into his book-strewn townhouse. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.
But maybe she needed bigger gestures. Something that she couldn’t dispute in the slightest.
Griffin thought for a moment more, and then texted Reese. Is Audrey there?
Why are you texting me and asking for my wife? Get your own woman.
Irritated, Griffin gritted his teeth and sent back, I have one. I want to throw a party for her and don’t know where to begin. I thought Audrey might know. Reese’s wife could organize just about anything.
Oh. Fuck, man. I am out of any party discussions. I’ll go, but you’ve got the wrong guy when it comes to planning.
Hence why I asked for your wife.
Hang on. A moment later, Reese texted, Here’s Audrey’s number. Call her.
Griffin did, and an efficient voice answered the phone. “Hello?” Audrey Petty was no nonsense and practical, which was why it still surprised Griffin that she’d ended up with someone as volatile as Reese.
“It’s Griffin. Maylee’s moved in with me and I want to throw her a welcoming party.”
“You do?” Her voice warmed a few degrees. “That’s very sweet, Griffin. You want help organizing it?”
“Yes. Please. I don’t even know where to begin.”
She laughed. “All right, well, we’ll start with the location. Where did you have in mind?”
He thought for a moment. He needed something showy, to demonstrate just how much he cared. “What place can you think of that is preposterously ostentatious?”
“Hunter’s house?”
Hmm. “Perfect.” He thought for a moment more and then added, “Do you know someone from the news media?”
“Uh, I’m sure I can locate someone. Are we having a newsworthy event?”
“Depends on if you’re from Bellissime, I suppose.”
“Oookay. You going to tell me more?”
“Just trust me.”
***
“Where are we going?” Maylee asked, craning her neck so she could see out the window. “And who do all these gardens belong to?”
“It’s a surprise,” he told her.
She gave him a wary look and a nervous smile. “I’m not sure I like surprises.” Her hand smoothed down her pale yellow boatneck sweater, and she fingered the jeans she was wearing, as if silently wondering if she was wearing the right clothing.
“You’re fine,” he soothed. Since she looked so worried, he added, “We’re visiting Hunter’s estate.”
“Oh.” She gave him another quick smile and then looked out the window once more. “I’ve never seen his house, but Gretchen says it’s ridiculous.”
“It is,” Griffin agreed. “It’s bigger than the royal palace in Bellissime.”
“Lordamercy,” Maylee breathed as it came into sight. “That is some house.”
It was, Griffin had to agree. He knew it was an ancestral home for Hunter, but it reminded Griffin too much of the staid, remote palaces of his own childhood and he hated the place. It didn’t feel like a house nearly as much as his townhouse did. A place like this required constant upkeep, and Griffin was more interested in traveling to different archa
eological sites than nursing a ramshackle mansion back to health.
But, to each their own.
Maylee clung to his hand when they pulled into the driveway. He nodded at Kip and gestured for him to park the car. Then, Griffin exited the car and held out his hand for Maylee to take.
She did, and they went up the expanse of stairs hand in hand.
When they got to the door, it opened and a beaming Gretchen greeted them. “Hey you two! Come on in. We just popped the champagne.”
“Oh? What are we celebrating?” Maylee asked, but her hand still clung tightly to Griffin’s and she didn’t follow Gretchen in.
“Nothing, yet.” She gave Griffin an exaggerated wink that made him want to strangle her, and then headed further into the house. “Come on. We’re hanging out in the Red Dining Room.”
They followed her through the maze of the house, Maylee exclaiming under her breath at the size of the place. He knew Buchanan Manor was intimidating, but now he was questioning the wisdom of this place for Maylee’s party. He wanted her to feel warmed and welcomed, not more isolated and out of place than ever.
So he squeezed her hand.
She looked at him, surprised, and then gave him a grateful smile and squeezed his hand back.
In the Red Dining Room, there was a small cluster of people standing around. He immediately felt Maylee stiffen, but he put his arm around her shoulders and gently steered her in. “Maylee,” he told her. “I want you to meet my friends.”
And he introduced her to Reese and Audrey, and Logan and Brontë. Both women were welcoming to Maylee, though they shot him curious looks from time to time. Maylee exclaimed over them in her soft, adorable accent, and he knew this party had been a good idea.
It was so obvious now. Introducing her to his friends seemed like the most reasonable thing in the world. Showing her that she belonged with him was such a small thing, but he could see from the glow on her cheeks that she was happy.
He should have thought of it sooner, rather than see her mope for a week.
She knew Hunter and Gretchen, of course, and he introduced her to Cade Archer, a good friend and the only man at the party flying solo. Cade never seemed to mind, though.
“Jonathan not here?” he asked him, but he already knew the answer. Jonathan had run off on business, something to take care of. Lately, his friend had been absent more and more.
Cade only shrugged as if to say, what can you do?
Once Maylee had met everyone, he grabbed them both glasses of champagne and pressed one into her hand. She took it from him, smiling but puzzled. “This looks like a party.”
“It is.”
“What are we celebrating?”
He looked at the people in the room, then back at Maylee. “I have something I want to tell you.”
Her eyes widened and he saw the uncertainty flash across her face again, though she did her best to hide it. “Oh?”
Griffin soldiered on. “You asked about my tattoo—”
Reese interrupted with a groan. “Oh, here we go. Worst kept secret ever.”
Audrey shushed him.
Griffin shot a scathing look at Reese, and then turned back to Maylee. He took a swig of his champagne, then set the glass down. He took her hand in his and noticed it was trembling. “Maylee, I am going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone else.” He paused, then exhaled slowly. “I’m . . . in a secret society. All of us are.”
Her brows wrinkled together. “Um, okay.”
He waited.
“Is that all?”
“It’s very secret,” he stressed. “It could ruin us financially if it got out. Six billionaires working together would mean we’d be investigated by every tax auditor in this country.”
“Okay,” she said, still giving him a puzzled look. “I won’t tell anyone. I thought this was something bad. As long as you guys don’t sacrifice kittens, I think I can handle it.”
“Only on holidays,” Gretchen joked, but Audrey shushed her.
He squeezed Maylee’s hand. “That information cannot leave this room. Do you understand what I’m trusting you with?”
She nodded. “I do. Thank you.”
Griffin smiled at her. “But that wasn’t what I asked you here for.”
Her brows drew down again. “It’s not?”
“No.” He looked over at Audrey.
She smiled and hurried forward, her loose blouse just barely hinting at her rounded pregnant stomach. She disappeared down the hall and returned with a small silver tray and a man at her side, who held a camera.
Griffin watched Maylee try to figure it out, frowning to herself. He took the box from Audrey, and then turned to Maylee. The box was velvet and oblong and she’d probably recognize the shape—inside it were the Verdi Emeralds. “You wore these once before, at the ball in Bellissime.”
Maylee’s smile was small, puzzled. “I remember. Big honking earrings and a necklace.”
He chuckled. “Those are the ones. There’s another piece that goes with this set, though, and I want you to have it.”
And he opened the box and pulled out a ring.
It wasn’t the most elegant or dainty of rings. Like the rest of the Verdi Emeralds, it was very old, square cut, and surrounded by tiny diamonds. It was a hideous beast of a ring.
Maylee’s eyes widened into saucers, just as the camera flashed in her face.
“I . . .” She stared at the ring. “What is this, Griffin?”
“That,” he said, gesturing at the photographer, “is a man working on a news article to send home to Bellissime about you and I.” He looked back at her, and then dropped to one knee. “Maylee . . .”
“Oh,” she breathed, frozen in place in front of him.
“I know I’ve been a right prat,” he began.
“Glad to hear him admit it,” he heard Gretchen mutter in the background.
He ignored her. “And I know you worry that I think you’re not good enough for me. So I wanted you to know how much I value you. These people in this room are the only family that have ever mattered to me. I stay in the States not because I don’t love my country, but because my family—my real family—is here. And now, you’re here.” He held the ring out to her. “And you’re the most beautiful, most worthy woman I have ever met and I never considered offering anyone this ring until I met you. Will you marry me?”
She hesitated, looking at the photographer. “Why is he here again?”
Griffin leaned in and mock-whispered, “Because your face is going to be splashed on a dozen Bellissime papers as the American who captured a viscount. I do hope you don’t mind the invasion of privacy, but I wanted people to know that we were getting married, because I’m rather proud of my woman.”
Her face blossomed into a beautiful smile. She crooked a finger at him in that sexy way that made his heart flip and his cock ache.
As he stepped forward, she gave an undignified squeal and jumped into his arms.
Epilogue
That evening in bed, after all the celebrations wound down, Maylee curled her fingers in Griffin’s happy trail and felt incredibly content. The rock on her finger was weighing her entire hand down, and it was a rather ugly cuss of a ring, but it meant that she belonged to Griffin and so she loved it.
He’d chosen her above everyone else. Her. Simple, country girl Maylee. And she hadn’t even been dressed up all fancy. She’d been wearing jeans and a summery short-sleeved sweater, her hair its usual corkscrew mess of curls.
But Griffin hadn’t cared. He’d stared down at her with such love in his eyes as he’d draped the jewelry on her and put the ring on her finger, and the photographer had taken so many photos and asked so many questions that her head had been spinning.
And he’d done it in front of his closest friends. He was trying to show her what she meant to him, and she got it now. She really, really got it.
Her hand slid down to his cock, feathering her fingers over it. They’d just had sex a few minutes
ago, but she bet she could get him erect again in no time. “Hey, Griff?”
“Hmmm?” His voice was deliciously sleepy, his hand stroking through her hair as she rested her cheek on his stomach.
Her hand stroked his cock again, and she was pleased to see it stir and begin to harden once more. Such a delicious sight. She continued to stroke it, enjoying that Griffin groaned and began to pump into her hand.
“Remember how I told you that I wanted to be your employee until I trusted you? Really trusted you?”
He stilled under her, despite the fact that she was still working him with her hand. “I remember.”
“Okay. Well, I quit.”
A second later, Maylee found herself flipped onto her back in the bed, and she giggled as Griffin pinned her to the mattress, a wild grin on his face. It was so unlike his normal reserved expression. “You do?”
“I do, I quit. I totally, totally quit.” She couldn’t stop smiling.
He leaned in and kissed her so fiercely that her lips felt bruised, but she didn’t care. “That’s wonderful.”
She grinned at him. “I think since I’m unemployed, I might eventually see about opening up a yarn shop somewhere around here.”
“You can,” he agreed. “But can it wait? I’d love to take you to Spain next month so we can spend more time in Cadiz. And then maybe head to Greece afterward to stop at a few sites mentioned in Homer’s works.”
More travel? “That sounds wonderful.”
His eyes lit up. “You don’t mind traveling? I do quite a bit of it, but I can hold off if you’d rather stay here and create a business.”
“I can wait on the yarn shop.” She snuggled close to him. “I’d rather spend time with you.”
“I love you, Maylee. I really do.”
“I know you do,” she said softly, and her fingers stroked down his cheek. He said he didn’t know how to show affection, but God, he was a fast learner.
He kissed her hand and then reached over her to grab another condom off the side of the bed. Then, he leaned in and kissed her fiercely once more as he slipped it on, and she spread her legs underneath him, waiting in anticipation.