Page 181 of The Protective Gryphen

After a minute, he carefully opened the doors. Setting the mood, he moved the couch, spread the thick, furry skin rugs on the floor, and lit some candles.

The curtains were open to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the snow was still coming down.

This screamed seduction.

When the scene was set, he turned off the lights and closed the pocket doors.

Then, he went to stand in front of the fireplace for his lover’s arrival.

And their night of seduction to begin.

Little did he know it would be a night that changed everything.

* * * The Ravensmire Chronicles * * *

Mealtime

The Castle

Dining Room

As he was led to the door, Ian was in dress pants, a dress shirt that was open at the neck, and a suit jacket. Graham had insisted that he dress for dinner, and he wasn’t giving him an option.

He couldn’t imagine why so formal, but he definitely was curious as hell.

When Graham opened the dining room doors, what Ian saw shocked the hell out of him.

So much so, that he almost dropped his glass of wine. Okay, he did drop it, but Graham had quick reflexes and caught it.

Escorting him in, Graham announced his arrival.

“Lord Carter, your guest, Mr. Patterson, has arrived as per your request,” he said, his accent out, and a smile on his face.

When he handed Ian back his glass of wine, Graham placed another bottle on the table near Gryphen.

Ian just stared.

He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t think.

In all of his life, he’d never seen a more spectacular thing. Gryphen was in his kilt, and he looked…royal.

Holy shit.

This was something he would never unsee.

The man was absolutely gorgeous, and now, he understood why the formality.

In a kilt, he looked like a legitimate Scottish Lord, standing there with his tartan, and pristinely dressed.

Graham cleared his throat.

“Mr. Patterson, don’t keep the Lord waiting. Please move into the room.”

He did as he asked, but the whole time, he was focused on his man. He let his gaze run up his body, from the prosthetic that was visible in the kilt, to his narrow hips, and the wide span of his chest.

“Oh, sorry, My Lord,” he said, as he walked into the room.

As Gryphen stood in front of the fire, Ian could feel his body come alive.

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