Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(25)

For the first time, she tried to picture the duo. Lulabelle would have been dressed in some sort of frothy concoction of a dress befitting the times. Her appearance was never mentioned, other than she was concerned with fashion.

She pictured Benedict like she did Hunter, though. Tall, serious, and deliciously, wickedly scarred. Wounded inside and out. Maybe that was why he’d never written Lula back until now. Maybe she’d reached out to him over that three-month break and crashed through his barriers, and now he’d let her in.

I know my mind is filled of thoughts of your mouth upon my maleness, Benedict had written.

Gretchen suddenly envisioned herself, kneeling in front of Hunter, taking his c*ck in her mouth and working it as his hand knotted in her hair. Warmth pulsed through her body and she resisted the urge to fan herself with one of the delicate letters. Whew.

The door to the library opened and Gretchen jumped in her chair, whirling around.

Eldon stood there, looking just as surprised as she was. Of course, Gretchen couldn’t stop blushing now that she’d been more or less caught reading the letters. Not that she wasn’t supposed to be reading them, of course. It was just that they were . . . dirty. And it made her feel weird to be seen reading them. Did Eldon or Hunter have any idea how incredibly graphic the letters were? Was that why they’d wanted someone to transcribe them?

“You’re here early,” Eldon said, his voice disapproving. He held a tray in his hands.

She waved a letter at him. “Thought I’d get a head start on things. Don’t bother making me breakfast, by the way. I made my own.”

“I did not make you breakfast,” he said flatly, as if it were the last thing he’d planned.

“Yeah, I guessed.” He never made her breakfast.

Eldon moved into the library and set the tray down on the nearest end table. On her tray was the rose of the day, singularly beautiful and crisp, the bud just beginning to unfurl. Today’s color was a red so deep that it almost seemed like velvet.

To her disappointment, there was no note from Hunter inviting her to dinner. That was fine. She wouldn’t let him retreat away from her. She had plans.

When Eldon straightened, he turned to leave.

“Wait,” Gretchen said, jumping to her feet. She grabbed the folded paper on the edge of the desk that she’d written this morning and held it out to him. “Can you please give this to Hunter?”

Eldon eyed it, and then her. Ever so reluctantly, he reached out and took the paper from her.

Gretchen kept the smile on her face, though inside she was a bit gleeful at his capitulation. He’d taken her note. “It’s very important that he gets it as soon as possible,” she told Eldon, trying to seem innocent.

To her dismay, Eldon flipped open her note and read it aloud. “Dear Hunter, I would very much appreciate it if you would join me for dinner tonight in the kitchen. Nothing fancy, but I promise you I’m a much better cook than Eldon. Sincerely, Gretchen.”

All right, that was embarrassing.

The butler’s mouth pursed unpleasantly as he finished the letter. “I don’t see anything urgent in this.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t for you,” Gretchen said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just deliver it, all right?”

“Shall I bring back a response?”

“Nah,” Gretchen told him. “I’ll know tonight if he shows up or not.”

“Very well.” He refolded the letter she’d given him and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Gretchen counted to ten slowly, waiting, and then crept to the door. Her slippers muffled her footsteps, and she ever so slowly eased open the library door, glancing down the hall.

Eldon turned a corner and vanished.

Excellent. With quiet steps, Gretchen tiptoed down the hall after him, keeping her distance. If Eldon did as he promised, he’d deliver that letter to Hunter. She could always wait for him to arrive tonight and apologize then, but Gretchen liked to be on the offensive, and what better way than to get things ironed out than to confront the man herself?

Of course, she couldn’t confront him if she didn’t know where he was. Which was why her plan to follow Eldon was perfect. She would be able to see Hunter’s reaction and find out where he was all at once.

Gretchen trailed a good distance behind Eldon, creeping quietly through the echoing halls of Buchanan Manor. It was a good thing for a change, she thought, that the place was so empty. No one would be there to tattle on her for stalking the butler.

Sure enough, he turned down the wing that she’d come to think of as Hunter’s wing and continued all the way down the hall. Once there, he opened a door and disappeared inside. She followed behind him and was surprised to see that the door led to a glass-covered walkway through the gardens.

Where was this going?

She followed him down the covered path, noting the snowdrifts against the glass. The path itself was cool enough that her breath frosted, but nothing like the wintry cold outside. The room ended in a small mudroom that had steps up to double doors. Through the glass, she could see a vaulted glass roof outside, the windows damp with condensation.

A greenhouse?

Of course, Gretchen realized, glancing around the mudroom. Of course he had a greenhouse. It was likely full of the roses he’d been gifting her with this last week. It had seemed odd but charming that he’d carefully selected one different rose every day. Now she knew he was plucking them from his own gardens.