Unconventional Suitors 02 - Her Unconventional Hero Read Free Page B

to her shoulder, he saw that her eyes were closed and her head was thrust back, revealing a creamy expanse of neck that looked too tempting to ignore. Griffin wound his arms around her waist and pulled her down into his lap as he scattered kisses gently up the long column of her neck.
    She lifted her arms and thrust her hands into his hair, causing a tingling sensation to scatter down his spine. He groaned once more as he pulled her on top of him, feeling the rich silk of her gown glide over his bare legs enticingly.
    His bare legs? Griffin felt a sliver of confusion settle into his mind. His legs weren’t bare, at least not yet.
    The fog of desire that had enshrouded his brain began to lift as he slowly peeled his eyes open. It took him a moment to realize that although he was indeed in his bed, he was completely and utterly alone. What he had thought was Lady Adel’s silk gown rubbing against his legs was nothing more than his own silk sheets.
    It had all been a dream.
    A deliciously wicked dream that had been cut far too short.
    Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to will himself to fall back asleep and continue the dream where he had left off, but a maddening knock on his door made it impossible. Cursing, Griffin rose and marched to the door, pulling it wide open, an angry scowl on his face.
    “My lord, you have a visitor.” His butler’s stoic face betrayed no surprise at seeing Griffin standing before him completely naked, for which Griffin was grateful.
    “Who is it?” he snarled.
    “Lord Danford, my lord.”
    “I will be down shortly,” Griffin said, as he slammed his door rudely in the butler’s face, then proceeded to ring the bell pull that would alert his valet that he was in need of his service.
    Nearly an hour had passed before Griffin was dressed and standing in the parlor of his townhouse, greeting Benedict in clipped tones, not feeling the least bit guilty for having made him wait so long. He was still angry that his dream had been interrupted.
    As he walked into the parlor, Benedict gave him an irritated look. “I was beginning to think you went back to sleep.”
    “Oh, how I wished it were so,” Griffin grumbled, sincerely meaning it. “My dreams hold far more appeal than a visit from you.”
    “No doubt, though I thought you’d be somewhat pleased with my visit seeing as how you have been so eager to find out the name of your future wife.”
    At the mention of his future wife, Griffin perked up, if only slightly. He tried to read the look on Benedict’s face, hoping it would give away any sort of hint as to what was coming. The only expression he could read was pleasure, and he wasn’t sure if it was due to his choice of wife for him or his delight at submitting Griffin to such torture. Perhaps both.
    “Well do not keep me in suspense any longer,” he said dryly, as he leaned casually back on the settee.
    Benedict wasted no time with flowery explanations or lame apologies, “I have chosen Lady Adel Desmond to be your bride.”
    Griffin shot out of his seat and paced quickly to the large picture window facing the street, his back to Benedict in hopes of hiding the heat he felt creeping into his face at the mention of Lady Adel’s name, invoking his all too recent dream involving the woman. Several deep breaths helped him regain his composure before he turned around and faced Benedict. “I cannot wed her,” he said flatly, the mask of indifference once more resting upon his face.
    “Oh, but you have no choice,” Benedict said through a wicked smile, thoroughly enjoying Griffin’s discomfort, no doubt.
    “She will never agree to the notion. I vex her to no end, and I am afraid the feeling is mutual. No, it simply won’t do. Pick another lady, any other lady besides her.”
    Benedict leaned forward, placing his forearms on his thighs. “Do you hear what you are saying? Do you truly wish me to pick another? I suppose that perhaps you’d be more interested in wedding Miss Jones