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?”
He gave his cousin an awkward smile. “Lots, actually.”
“You can tell me.” She winked at him, all of the austere dignity disappearing from her face, and for a moment, she looked like a sly young woman instead of Her Royal Highness. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”
Griffin considered for a moment. He didn’t have anyone he could talk to except for Alex. Alex would understand. “How, exactly, does one woo a commoner?”
She laughed. “Well, for starters, you stop calling them ‘commoners’. It’s rude.” She leaned in. “Is this about your little assistant? I saw her. She looks charming.”
He shot Cousin Alex a frown. “Why would you assume it’s her?”
“Because I’ve never seen you lose your temper so fast, Mr. Griffin,” she teased, deliberately stressing Maylee’s inappropriate naming convention for him.
He groaned. “I have tried so many times to correct her, but she doesn’t seem to understand it.”
“It’s cute.”
“It’s not cute when she does it in front of my mother.”
Alex laughed. “No, I can imagine not. Sybilla-Louise is a bit of a dragon, isn’t she? I’d say she’s more proper than our Grandmother, and I always thought she was a terrible stickler for decorum.”
Griffin sighed as they continued walking. “So . . . how exactly did you let Luke know that you were interested in him? It’s not something I find easy to do.”
“Goodness, Griff. Have you not dated in the past?”
He had. But those girls had either been daughters of nobility in Bellissime he’d been tossed in with, or rich girls at an Ivy League college who were used to a very specific lifestyle—glamorous parties, polo events, and anything that involved society. “This is . . . different.”
“Well,” said Alex. “When I decided I wanted to meet Luke, I invited him to the palace for dinner. And then I made sure both my mother and my grandmother were unavailable, so it was just the two of us. And I feigned a great interest in the movie he was making, which was filming here in Bellissime last summer. He invited me onto the set and I showed up every day. After that, he got the hint.”
He was impressed. “Grandmother didn’t find that extremely forward?”
“I didn’t ask her opinion,” Alex said, her eyes shining. “I’d already turned down four proposals from suitable candidates in the last two years. I think she was suspecting that I was going to marry who I wanted and when I wanted to, not who she thought I should marry.” Alex shook her head. “It’s a good thing we’re not as stuffy as other royal families, or they’d probably have a fit I was marrying an American.”
“And a commoner to boot,” Griffin added with a grimace.
Alex smacked his arm with a silk-gloved hand. “You really need to let go of the commoner thing, Griff. That’s step one.”
“Fine, fine.”
“Step two is to let her know that you’re interested. Did you?”
He thought of the kiss they’d shared that morning. “I think she has an idea.”
“Then let her know that you are serious,” Alex advised. “That you’re not interested in pursuing anyone else. You’re not, are you?”