Maylee slammed the closet door shut.
Then, she screamed.
Chapter Five
A bloodcurdling yell arose from Maylee’s room, shocking Griffin out of his book. He flung it aside, hopped out of bed, and bounded across the room to the door that adjoined their suites.
When he flung it open, a wet blonde wrapped only in a towel tumbled into his room, her hands going to his waist. “Man in my room,” she babbled. “There’s a man in my room!”
Stunned at the sight of Maylee nearly naked, dripping wet, and now wrapping her arms around his waist, Griffin remained frozen in place. Lustful fantasies bloomed in his mind, only to come skidding to a halt at her terrified sob.
A man in her room? It finally sank in. “You have a man in your room?” he repeated.
“Yes!” she sobbed, clinging to his back. “There is some weird creep in my closet!”
He patted her arm, warm, damp, and smelling like flowery soap. “Wait here,” he said. He looked around for a weapon, grabbed a lamp from a nearby table, unplugged it, jerked off the shade, and then brandished it like a bat. Then, he moved into Maylee’s room.
The closet door was shut tight. For a moment, he wondered if this was simple feminine hysterics to try and seduce him. He knew Reese had all kinds of wild stories about what girls would do to get into his bed, but Griffin had never run into such scenarios himself. Still, Maylee hadn’t seemed the type.
So he approached the closet and knocked on it. “Someone in there?”
“Please don’t kill me,” a muffled voice responded. “I’ll come out if you promise not to kill me.”
Astonished, he looked over at Maylee. She was biting her knuckles, terrified, her eyes dark and huge in her face. And she was na**d under that towel. She was completely and utterly vulnerable.
And someone had broken into her room and tried to harm her.
A protective surge shot through him, and Griffin grabbed a nearby chair and jammed it under the handle of the closet door. He tested it, but it was stuck fast. Good. He looked over at Maylee, who was trembling so hard that droplets of water were shaking off the ends of her wet curls. “Wait in my room,” he told her. “Go through my clothes and put on something of mine.”
She nodded and disappeared into his room.
Griffin scanned her bedroom. It was tidy despite the fact that she’d been interrupted out of the shower. Her knitting sat on the corner of the bed, clearly waiting for its owner to return. Nothing else seemed out of place, so he couldn’t see where someone had broken in. Furious, he went to the phone next to her bed and dialed the front desk.
“Ms. Meriweather,” the voice on the other end said smoothly. “What can I get for you tonight?”
“This is Lord Montagne Verdi,” Griffin said in his iciest, most austere tone. “Ms. Meriweather has an intruder in her room. I’ve locked him in her closet but I want security up here right away. Understand?”
“Absolutely, my lord! We’re sending someone up—”
He hung up. Across from him, he watched the closet doorknob turn, the man in there clearly testing it. The door rattled, and he heard a soft curse. Griffin moved over to the chair, straightened it, and then sat down, pinning the door shut with his weight.
And he waited for security.
Luckily, the hotel was prompt. A mere minute or two later, there was a quick knock at the door. “Security.”
Griffin got up from the chair and headed to the door, letting them in. “He’s in the closet.”
The security team extracted the man, who was clearly one of the paparazzi. The man babbled and tried to make excuses, but the camera in his hand—and the fact that he was hiding between Maylee’s ugly dresses—told the real story. They took him away and another man stayed behind to take down Griffin’s information. He told them what he knew, then glanced back at his room. His assistant hadn’t shown her face since the others had arrived. “Maylee? Can you come give this man your statement?”
A moment later, she stepped through the doorway of their adjoining rooms. Her hair was still wet, but had been finger-combed into loose, damp waves. She wore one of his button-up shirts, the hem of it grazing her tanned thighs. It was big on her, though when she moved forward, he saw the soft bob of her br**sts under the fabric.
And holy Christ, she was sexy in his shirt.
Griffin clenched his fists, willing away the inappropriate surge of lust he felt at the sight of her. Those greenish-brown eyes were still huge and troubled, and when she stuck her hand out for the security officer to shake, he noticed it was still trembling. She was terrified.
Her fear made his protective instincts arise. He put a hand on her shoulder and tugged her closer to him, ignoring the security officer’s questioning look. As Maylee gave her statement, he remained at her side, and she seemed to relax a bit, toying with the too-long sleeves of his shirt as she spoke.
“He told me he wanted me to work with him,” she said in her soft drawl. “That he wanted the inside story. I’m guessing he wanted details on the wedding, or on Mr. Griffin. He said he’d pay me lots of money.”
“And what did you say to him?” the man asked.
She looked surprised. “Why, I screamed. I screamed and slammed the door in his face.”
Griffin smiled faintly.
“Thank you,” said the security officer once Maylee had given her statement. “We’ll turn this information—along with the intruder—over to the police.”
“What are you going to do to ensure this doesn’t happen again?” Griffin’s voice was cold, authoritative, and he gave the man a hard look. “I’m not keen on the idea of my employees being harassed while I’m staying at what is supposed to be a safe establishment.”
“Of course, sir—er, my lord,” the man said, and he looked embarrassed. “We’ll post a security guard on this floor in addition to the ones downstairs. You won’t be disturbed again.”
“See that we are not,” Griffin said.
“Thank you,” Maylee said in a trembling voice. “I appreciate it.” Her arms crossed over her chest, and Griffin noticed that the man’s gaze slid there.
“We’ll call if we need anything else,” Griffin said brusquely. With a nod, he indicated that the man should exit the room.
The security officer left, and Maylee shut the door behind him. Now, it was just Griffin and Maylee in her room. He kept his eyes on her face as she turned around, all soft and curvy in his shirt. Her round face looked exhausted, though she tried to give him a game smile. “I guess we’ve had our excitement for the evening,” Maylee said.
Griffin examined her face closely. “Are you all right?” She didn’t sound like her normal cheery self.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I feel like a ninny. Maybe I should have just talked to him instead of screaming my fool head off.”
“He broke into your room. You absolutely did the right thing.” He squeezed her shoulder.
She gave him a tremulous smile. “I guess.”
Griffin was already impressed at her trustworthiness. She hadn’t even considered giving details to the paparazzi. She’d immediately thought of defending his reputation. That kind of loyalty couldn’t be bought, no matter the price. He’d give her a nice bonus when they got home, he thought. But she still looked so troubled and that bothered him.
I need a hug, she’d told him when she was drugged up on the plane.
He considered her. She still seemed lost and small and lonely.
So he pulled her closer to him and gave her an awkward hug. It wasn’t his normal thing to do. He was terrible at comforting, in fact. But she’d wanted a hug in the past when she’d cried. This he could do, he supposed.
Maylee stiffened in surprise and then melted against him a moment later. She was all warm curves, and he was surprised at how good she felt in his arms. His hand rubbed her back, and he tried not to think about her being na**d under the flimsy fabric of his shirt.
Then he released her. “Better?”
A giggle escaped her. “I have to admit, Mr. Griffin, I didn’t peg you for much of a hugger.”
“It seemed appropriate.”
She turned and looked at her room again, then bit her lip.
“What?” he asked.
The knuckle went back to her mouth, and she bit down on it. “I don’t feel safe. I’m sorry. Could you check my room for me?”
He relaxed. “Of course. Go wait in mine.”
She tensed again. “But . . . what if there’s someone in yours?”
She was in there earlier, wasn’t she? He didn’t understand this reluctance, but Griffin nodded and put an arm out, gesturing for her to move in. “Come here, then. Stay by my side.”
Immediately, Maylee trotted to him and moved under his arm. Her breast brushed against his side and her fingers went to the waistband of his sleep pants, as if she could somehow hold onto him in case he tried to escape her.
It should have been irritating. Griffin hated clinging, and he hated hovering. But . . . for some reason, having Maylee against his side, warm and soft and sweet, was rather nice.
Together, they checked out her room, opening up the wardrobes, going through every cabinet, the closet, and even checking under the bed. There was nothing. Griffin checked her front door again and tested the locks twice, then latched the chain. “From now on, you should keep this locked. You can just exit out of my room.”
She nodded at him. “Thank you.”
He glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late. You should probably head to bed.”
Her face went white again but she nodded, releasing him. Those soft fingers slid away from his waistband, and for a moment, Griffin felt regret, which was foolish. She was his assistant. A very temporary one.
“Thank you again,” Maylee told him, her voice soft. She gave him another smile, but it didn’t hold its normal brilliance. “I really do appreciate it.”
“I know,” he said, his tone a bit more abrupt than it should have been. She was fragile at the moment, damn it. There was no point in him biting her head off. He gave her a quick nod. “Get some sleep. We have a full schedule tomorrow.”
“Of course,” she murmured, and stepped away.
After a moment’s hesitation, he gave her another nod and retreated to his room, shutting the door behind him. Griffin leaned against it for a moment, exhaling heavily.
Good God. He should have been upset about the fact that the paps were all over him on this trip, enough to warrant sneaking into his assistant’s room to hash out a deal. He should have been furious that someone had breached their privacy.
But his brain kept focusing in on Maylee’s bare legs under the hem of his shirt, the soft curve of her breast pressing against his side, those fingers brushing against his waist as she held onto his pants.
His c**k was hard as a rock. Griffin reached into his pants and adjusted himself, but it was no good. This wasn’t going down anytime soon, not with Maylee’s softness and near nudity in his mind. He kept flashing back to her running into his room, dripping with water, the towel barely containing her heaving br**sts—
Griffin headed to the bathroom. He shut the door, stripped out of his pants, and climbed back into the shower. Running the water on hot, he soaped up his body for the second time this evening, then took his c**k in his hand and began to stroke it, thinking of Maylee in his shirt. Thinking of pushing her back on his bed and watching the fabric slide up, revealing the full length of her thighs, the pale floss between her legs that would be the color of her brows, and slick, soft lips waiting for his cock—
He came with a grunt, his hand rough as he stroked himself to orgasm. Fucking pathetic that he had to jerk himself off in a hotel bathroom at the thought of his assistant.