Part II 11

Jack cocks his head to one side as he leans in towardme, invading my personal space—again.“You’re being very coy, Ana.”“Well, he’s in telecommunications, manufacturing, andagriculture.”Jack raises his eyebrows. “So many things. Who doeshe work for?”“He works for himself. If you’re happy with thedocument, I’d like to go, if that’s okay?”He leans back. My personal space is safe again.“Of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you,” he saysdisingenuously.“What time does the building close?”“Security is here until eleven.”“Good.” I smile, and my subconscious flops down inher armchair, relieved to know that we are not alone in thebuilding. Switching off my computer, I grab my purse andstand up, ready to lea一ve.stand up, ready to lea一ve.“You like him then? Your boyfriend?”“I love him,” I answer, looking Jack squarely in theeye.“I see.” Jack frowns and he stands up from my desk.“What’s his surname?”I flush.“Grey. Christian Grey,” I mumble.Jack’s mouth drops open. “Seattle’s richest bachelor?That Christian Grey?”“Yes. The same.” Yes, that Christian Grey, your futureboss who will ha一ve you for breakfast if you invade mypersonal space again.“I thought he looked familiar,” Jack says darkly and hisbrow creases again. “Well, he’s a lucky man.”I blink at him. What do I say to that?“Ha一ve a good evening, Ana.” Jack smiles, but the smiledoesn’t touch his eyes, and he walks stiffly back into hisoffice without a backward glance.I let out a long sigh of relief. Well, that problem mightbe solved. Fifty works his magic again. Just his name is mytalisman, and it has this man retreating with his tail betweenhis legs. I allow myself a small victorious smile. You see,Christian? Even your name protects me—you didn’tha一ve to go to all that trouble of clamping down onexpenses. I tidy my desk and check my watch. Christianshould be outside.The Audi is parked up against the sidewalk, andTaylor leaps out to open the rear passenger door. I ha一venever been so pleased to see him, and I scramble into thenever been so pleased to see him, and I scramble into thecar out of the rain.Christian is in the rear seat, gazing at me, his eyes wideand wary. He’s bracing himself for my anger, his jaw tightand tense.“Hi,” I murmur.“Hi,” he replies cautiously. He reaches over and graspsmy hand, squeezing it tightly, and my heart thaws a little.I’m so confused. I ha一ven’t even worked out what I needto say to him.“Are you still mad?” he asks.“I don’t know,” I murmur. He raises my hand andlightly grazes my knuckles with soft butterfly kisses.“It’s been a shitty day,” he says.“Yes, it has.” But for the first time since he left forwork this morning, I begin to relax. Just being in hiscompany is a soothing balm, and all the shit from Jack, andthe snarky e-mails to and fro, and the nuisance that isElena fade into the background. It’s just me and mycontrol freak in the back of the car.“It’s better now that you’re here,” he murmurs. We sitin silence as Taylor wea一ves through the evening traffic,both of us brooding and contemplative; but I feel Christianslowly unwind beside me as he, too, relaxes, gently runninghis thumb across my knuckles in a soft, soothing rhythm.Taylor drops us outside the apartment building, and weboth duck inside, out of the rain. Christian clasps my handas we wait for the elevator, his eyes scanning the front ofthe building.“I take it you ha一ven’t found Leila yet.”“I take it you ha一ven’t found Leila yet.”“No. Welch is still looking for her,” he muttersdespondently.The elevator arrives and in we step. Christian glancesdown at me, his gray eyes unreadable. Oh, he just looksglorious—tousled hair, white shirt, dark suit. And suddenlyit’s there, from nowhere, that feeling. Oh my—the longing,the lust, the electricity. If it were visible, it would be anintense blue aura around and between us it’s so strong. Hislips part as he gazes at me.“Do you feel it?” he breathes.“Yes.”“Oh, Ana.” He groans and he grabs me, his armssnaking around me, one hand at the nape of my neck,tipping my head back as his lips find mine. My fingers arein his hair and caressing his cheek as he pushes me backagainst the elevator wall.“I hate arguing with you,” he breathes against mymouth, and there’s a desperate, passionate quality to hiskiss that mirrors mine. Desire explodes in my body, all thetension of the day seeking an outlet, straining against him,seeking more. We’re all tongues and breathing and handsand touch and sweet, sweet sensation. His hand is on myhip, and abruptly he’s pulling up my skirt, his fingersstroking my thighs.“Sweet Jesus, you’re wearing stockings.” He moans inappreciative awe as his thumb caresses the flesh above mystocking line. “I want to see this,” he breathes, and he pullsmy skirt right up, exposing the tops of my thighs.Stepping back, he reaches over to press the stopStepping back, he reaches over to press the stopbutton, and the elevator coasts smoothly to a halt betweenthe twenty-second and twenty-third floors. His eyes aredark, lips parted, and he’s breathing as hard as am I. Wegaze at each other, not touching. I am grateful for the wallagainst my back, holding me up while I bask in thisbeautiful man’s sensual, carnal appraisal.“Take your hair down,” he orders, his voice husky. Ireach up and undo the tie, releasing my hair so it tumbles ina thick cloud around my shoulders to my breasts. “Undothe top two buttons of your shirt,” he whispers, his eyeswilder now.He makes me feel so wanton. My inner goddess iswrithing on her chaise longue, waiting, wanting, andpanting. I reach up and undo each button, achingly, slowly,so that the tops of my breasts are tantalizingly revealed.He swallows. “Do you ha一ve any idea how alluring youlook right now?”Very deliberately, I bite my lip and shake my head. Hecloses his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again,they are blazing. He steps forward and places his hands onthe elevator walls on either side of my face. He’s as closeas he can be without touching me.I tip my face up to meet his gaze, and he leans downand runs his nose against mine, so it’s the only contactbetween us. I am so hot in the confines of this elevatorwith him. I want him—now.“I think you do, Miss Steele. I think you like to driveme wild.”“Do I drive you wild?” I whisper.“Do I drive you wild?” I whisper.“In all things, Anastasia. You are a siren, a goddess.”And he reaches for me, grasping my leg above my kneeand hitching it around his waist, so that I am standing onone leg, leaning into him. I feel him against me, feel himhard and wanting above the apex of my thighs as he runshis lips down my throat. I moan and wrap my arms aroundhis neck.“I’m going to take you now, Anastasia,” he breathesand I arch my back in response, pressing myself againsthim, eager for the friction. He groans deep and low in theback of his throat and boosts me higher as he undoes hisfly.“Hold tight, baby,” he murmurs, and magicallyproduces a foil packet that he holds in front of my mouth. Itake it between my teeth, and he tugs, so that between us,we rip it open.“Good girl.” He steps back a fraction as he slides onthe condom. “God, I can’t wait for the next six days,” hegrowls and gazes down at me through hooded eyes. “I dohope you’re not overly fond of these panties.” He tearsthrough them with his adept fingers, and they disintegrate inhis hands. My blood is pounding through my veins. I ampanting with need.His words are intoxicating, all my angst from the dayforgotten. It’s just him and me, doing what we do best.Without taking his eyes off mine, he sinks slowly into me.My body bows and I tilt my head back, closing my eyes,relishing the feel of him inside me. He pulls back and thenmoves into me again, so slow, so sweet. I groan.“You’re mine, Anastasia,” he murmurs against mythroat.“Yes. Yours. When will you accept that?” I pant. Hegroans and starts to move, really move. And I surrendermyself to his relentless rhythm, sa一voring each push andpull, his ragged breathing, his need for me, reflecting mine.It makes me feel powerful, strong, desired and loved—loved by this captivating, complicated man, whom I lovein return with all my heart. He pushes harder and harder,his breathing ragged, losing himself in me as I lose myself inhim.“Oh, baby,” Christian moans, his teeth grazing my jaw,and I come hard around him. He stills, clutches me, andfollows suit, whispering my name.Now that Christian is spent, calm and kissing me gently,his breathing eases. He holds me upright against theelevator wall, our foreheads pressed together, and mybody is like jelly, weak but gratifyingly sated from myclimax.“Oh, Ana,” he murmurs. “I need you so much.” Hekisses my forehead.“And I you, Christian.”Releasing me, he straightens my skirt and does up thetwo buttons on my shirt, then punches the combination intothe keypad that starts the elevator again. It rises with a joltso that I reach out and clasp his arms.“Taylor will be wondering where we are,” he grinslasciviously at me.Oh crap. I drag my fingers through my hair in a vainattempt to combat the just-fucked look, then give up andtie it in a ponytail.“You’ll do.” Christian smirks as he does up his fly andputs the condom in his pants pocket.Once more he looks the embodiment of an Americanentrepreneur, and since his hair looks just fucked most ofthe time, there’s very little difference. Except now he’ssmiling, relaxed, his eyes crinkling with boyish charm. Areall men this easily placated?Taylor is waiting when the doors open.“Problem with the elevator,” Christian murmurs as weboth step out, and I cannot look either of them in the face.I scurry through the double doors to Christian’s bedroomin search of some fresh underwear.When I return, Christian has removed his jacket and issitting at the breakfast bar chatting with Mrs. Jones. Shesmiles kindly at me as she puts out two plates of hot foodfor us. Mmm, it smells delicious—coq au vin, if I am notmistaken. I am famished.“Enjoy, Mr. Grey, Ana,” she says and lea一ves us to it.Christian fetches a bottle of white wine from the fridge,and as we sit and eat, he tells me about how much nearerhe’s getting to perfecting a solar-powered mobile phone.He’s animated and excited about the whole project, and IHe’s animated and excited about the whole project, and Iknow then that he hasn’t had an entirely shitty day.I ask him about his properties. He smirks, and it turnsout he only has the apartment in New York and Aspen,and Escala. Nothing else. When we’re done, I collect hisplate and mine and take them to sink.“Lea一ve that. Gail will do it,” he says. I turn and gaze athim, and he’s watching me intently. Will I ever get used toha一ving someone clean up after me?“Well, now that you are more docile, Miss Steele, shallwe talk about today?”“I think you’re the one who’s more docile. I think I’mdoing a good job in taming you.”“Taming me?” he snorts, amused. When I nod, hefrowns as if reflecting on my words. “Yes. Maybe you are,Anastasia.”“You were right about Jack,” I murmur, serious now,and I lean across the kitchen island gauging his reaction.Christian’s face falls and his eyes harden.“Has he tried anything?” he whispers, his voice deathlycold.I shake my head to reassure him. “No, and he won’t,Christian. I told him today that I’m your girlfriend, and hebacked right off.”“You’re sure? I could fire the fucker.” Christianscowls.I sigh, emboldened by my glass of wine. “You reallyha一ve to let me fight my own battles. You can’t constantlysecond-guess me and try to protect me. It’s stifling,Christian. I’ll never flourish with your incessantChristian. I’ll never flourish with your incessantinterference. I need some freedom. I wouldn’t dream ofmeddling in your affairs.”He blinks at me. “I only want you safe, Anastasia. Ifanything happened to you, I—” He stops.“I know, and I understand why you feel so driven toprotect me. And part of me loves it. I know that if I needyou, you’ll be there, as I am for you. But if we are to ha一veany hope of a future together, you ha一ve to trust me andtrust my judgment. Yes, I’ll get it wrong sometimes—I’llmake mistakes, but I ha一ve to learn.”He stares at me, his expression anxious, spurring me towalk round to him so that I am standing between his legswhile he sits on the barstool. Grabbing his hands, I putthem around me and place my hands on his arms.“You can’t interfere in my job. It’s wrong. I don’t needyou charging in like a white knight to sa一ve the day. I knowyou want to control everything, and I understand why, butyou can’t. It’s an impossible goal . . . you ha一ve to learn tolet go.” I reach up and stroke his face as he gazes at me,his eyes wide. “And if you can do that—give me that—I’llmove in with you,” I add softly.He inhales sharply, surprised. “You’d do that?” hewhispers.“Yes.”“But you don’t know me.” He frowns and soundschoked and panicky all of a sudden, very un-Fifty.“I know you well enough, Christian. Nothing you tellme about yourself will frighten me away.” I gently run myknuckles across his cheek. His expression turns fromknuckles across his cheek. His expression turns fromanxious to dubious. “But if you could just ease up on me,”I plead.“I’m trying, Anastasia. I couldn’t just stand by and letyou go to New York with that . . . sleazeball. He has analarming reputation. None of his assistants ha一ve lastedmore than three months, and they’re never retained by thecompany. I don’t want that for you, baby.” He sighs. “Idon’t want anything to happen to you. You being hurt . . .the thought fills me with dread. I can’t promise not tointerfere, not if I think you’ll come to harm.” He pausesand takes a deep breath. “I love you, Anastasia. I will doeverything in my power to protect you. I cannot imaginemy life without you.”Holy cow. My inner goddess, my subconscious, and Iall gape at Fifty in shock.Jeez, three little words. My world stands still, tilts, thenspins on a new axis; and I sa一vor the moment, gazing intohis sincere, beautiful gray eyes.“I love you, too, Christian.” I lean over and kiss him,and the kiss deepens.Entering unseen, Taylor clears his throat. Christian pullsback, gazing intently at me. He stands, his arm around mywaist.“Yes?” he snaps at Taylor.“Mrs. Lincoln is on her way up, sir.”“What?”Taylor shrugs apologetically. Christian sighs hea一vilyand shakes his head.“Well, this should be interesting,” he mutters and gives“Well, this should be interesting,” he mutters and givesme a crooked grin of resignation.Fuck! Why can’t that damned woman lea一ve us alone?“Yes.”“What did you say?”“I said that you didn’t want to see her, and that Iunderstood your reasons why. I also told her that I didn’tappreciate her going behind my back.” His gaze isimpassive, giving nothing away.Oh, good. “What did she say?”“She brushed it off in a way that only Elena can.” Hismouth flattens to a crooked line.“Why do you think she’s here?”“I ha一ve no idea.” Christian shrugs.Taylor enters the great room again. “Mrs. Lincoln,” heannounces.And here she is . . . Why is she so damned attractive?She’s dressed entirely in black: tight jeans, a shirt thatemphasizes her perfect figure, and a halo of bright, glossyhair.Christian pulls me close. “Elena,” he says, his tonepuzzled.She gapes at me in shock, frozen to the spot. Sheblinks before finding her soft voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’trealize you had company, Christian. It’s Monday,” shesays as if this explains why she’s here.“Girlfriend,” he says by way of explanation and tilts hishead to one side and smirks.She smiles, a slow, beaming smile directed entirely athim. It’s unnerving.“Of course. Hello, Anastasia. I didn’t know you’d behere. I know you don’t want to talk to me. I accept that.”“Do you?” I assert quietly, gazing at her and taking allof us by surprise. With a slight frown, she moves fartherinto the room.“Yes, I get the message. I’m not here to see you. LikeI said, Christian rarely has company during the week.” Shepauses. “I ha一ve a problem, and I need to talk to Christianabout it.”“Oh?” Christian straightens up. “Do you want adrink?”“Yes, please,” she murmurs gratefully.Christian fetches a glass while Elena and I standawkwardly gazing at each other. She fidgets with a largesilver ring on her middle finger, while I don’t know whereto look. Finally, she gives me a small tight smile andapproaches the kitchen island and sits on the bar stool atthe end. She obviously knows the place well and feelscomfortable moving around here.Do I stay? Do I go? Oh, this is so difficult. Mysubconscious scowls at the woman with her most hostilesubconscious scowls at the woman with her most hostileharpy face.There’s so much I want to say to this woman, andnone of it complimentary. But she’s Christian’s friend—hisonly friend—and for all my loathing of this woman, I aminnately polite. Deciding to stay, I sit as gracefully as I canmanage on the stool Christian’s vacated. Christian pourswine into each of our glasses and sits between us at thebreakfast bar. Can’t he feel how weird this is?“What’s up?” he asks her.Elena looks nervously at me, and Christian reachesover and clasps my hand.“Anastasia’s with me now,” he says to her silent queryand squeezes my hand. I flush, and my subconsciousbeams at him, harpy face forgotten.Elena’s face softens as if she’s pleased for him. Reallypleased for him. Oh, I don’t understand this woman at all,and I’m uncomfortable and edgy in her presence.She takes a deep breath and shifts, perching on theedge of her bar stool and looking agitated. She glancesnervously down at her hands and starts manically twistingthe large silver ring around and around on her middlefinger.Jeez, what’s wrong with her? Is it my presence? Do Iha一ve that effect on her? Because I feel the same way—Idon’t want her here. She raises her head and looksChristian squarely in the eye.“I’m being blackmailed.”Holy shit. Not what I expected out of her mouth.Christian stiffens. Has someone found out about herChristian stiffens. Has someone found out about herpenchant for beating and fucking underage boys? Isuppress my revulsion, and a fleeting thought aboutchickens coming home to roost crosses my mind. Mysubconscious rubs her hands together with ill-disguisedglee. Good.“How?” Christian asks, his horror clear in his voice.She reaches into her oversized, patent-leather,designer purse, pulls out a note, and hands it to him.“Put it down, lay it out.” Christian points to thebreakfast bar counter with his chin.“You don’t want to touch it?’“No. Fingerprints.”“Christian, you know I can’t go to the police with this.”Why am I listening to this? Is she fucking some otherpoor boy?She lays the note out for him, and he bends to read it.“They’re only asking for five thousand dollars,” he saysalmost absentmindedly. “Any idea who it might be?Someone in the community?”“No,” she says in her soft sweet voice.“Linc?”Linc? Who’s that?“What—after all this time? I don’t think so,” shegrumbles.“Does Isaac know?”“I ha一ven’t told him.”Who’s Isaac?“I think he needs to know,” Christian says. She shakesher head, and now I feel I’m intruding. I want none of this.her head, and now I feel I’m intruding. I want none of this.I try to retrieve my hand from Christian’s grasp, but he justtightens his hold and turns to gaze at me.“What?” he asks.“I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”His eyes search mine, looking for what? Censure?Acceptance? Hostility? I keep my expression as bland aspossible.“Okay,” he says. “I won’t be long.”He releases me and I stand. Elena watches me warily.I stay tightlipped and return her gaze, giving nothing away.“Goodnight, Anastasia.” She gives me a small smile.“Goodnight,” I mutter, my voice sounds cold. I turn tolea一ve. The tension is too much for me to bear. As I exit theroom they continue their conversation.“I don’t think there’s a great deal I can do, Elena,”Christian says to her. “If it’s a question of money.” Hisvoice trails off. “I could ask Welch to investigate.”“No, Christian, I just wanted to share,” she says.When I am out of the room, I hear her say, “You lookvery happy.”“I am,” Christian responds.“You deserve to be.”“I wish that were true.”“Christian,” she scolds.I freeze, listening intently. I can’t help it.“Does she know how negative you are about yourself?About all your issues.”“She knows me better than anyone.”“Ouch! That hurts.”“Ouch! That hurts.”“It’s the truth, Elena. I don’t ha一ve to play games withher. And I mean it, lea一ve her alone.”“What is her problem?”“You . . . What we were. What we did. She doesn’tunderstand.”“Make her understand.”“It’s in the past, Elena, and why would I want to tainther with our fucked-up relationship? She’s good andsweet and innocent, and by some miracle she loves me.”“It’s no miracle, Christian,” Elena scoffs goodnaturedly.“Ha一ve a little faith in yourself. You really arequite a catch. I’ve told you often enough. And she seemslovely, too. Strong. Someone to stand up to you.”I can’t hear Christian’s response. So I’m strong, am I?I certainly don’t feel that way.“Don’t you miss it?” Elena continues.“What?”“Your playroom.”I stop breathing.“That really is none of your fucking business,” Christiansnaps.Oh.“I’m sorry.” Elena snorts insincerely.“I think you’d better go. And please, call before youcome again.”“Christian, I am sorry,” she says, and from her tone,this time she means it. “Since when are you so sensitive?”She’s scolding him again.“Elena, we ha一ve a business relationship which has“Elena, we ha一ve a business relationship which hasprofited us both immensely. Let’s keep it that way. Whatwas between us is part of the past. Anastasia is my future,and I won’t jeopardize it in any way, so cut the fuckingcrap.”His future!“I see.”“Look, I’m sorry for your trouble. Perhaps you shouldride it out and call their bluff.” His tone is softer.“I don’t want to lose you, Christian.”“I’m not yours to lose, Elena,” he snaps again.“That’s not what I meant.”“What did you mean?” He’s brusque, angry.“Look, I don’t want to argue with you. Your friendshipmeans a lot to me. I’ll back off from Anastasia. But I’mhere if you need me. I always will be.”“Anastasia thinks that you saw me last Saturday. Youcalled, that’s all. Why did you tell her otherwise?”“I wanted her to know how upset you were when sheleft. I don’t want her to hurt you.”“She knows. I’ve told her. Stop interfering. Honestly,you’re like a mother hen.” Christian sounds more resigned,and Elena laughs, but there’s a sad tone to her laugh.“I know. I’m sorry. You know I care about you. Inever thought you’d end up falling in love, Christian. It’svery gratifying to see. But I couldn’t bear it if she hurtyou.”“I’ll take my chances,” he says dryly. “Now are yousure you don’t want Welch to sniff around?”She sighs hea一vily. “I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm.”She sighs hea一vily. “I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm.”“Okay. I’ll call him in the morning.”I listen to them bickering, trying to figure this out. Theydo sound like old friends, as Christian says. Just friends.And she cares about him—maybe too much. Well, whowouldn’t, if they knew him?“Thank you, Christian. And I am sorry. I didn’t meanto intrude. I’ll go. Next time I’ll call.”“Good.”She’s going! Shit! I scamper up the hallway toChristian’s bedroom and sit down on the bed. Christianenters a few moments later.“She’s gone,” he says warily, gauging my reaction.I gaze up at him, trying to frame my question. “Will youtell me all about her? I am trying to understand why youthink she helped you.” I pause, thinking carefully about mynext sentence. “I loathe her, Christian. I think she did youuntold damage. You ha一ve no friends. Did she keep themaway from you?”He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.“Why the fuck do you want to know about her? Wehad a very long-standing affair, she beat the shit out of meoften, and I fucked her in all sorts of ways you can’t evenimagine, end of story.”I pale. Shit, he’s angry—with me. I blink at him. “Whyare you so angry?”“Because all of that shit is OVER!” he shouts, gloweringat me. He sighs in exasperation and shakes his head.I blanch. Shit. I look down at my hands, knotted in mylap. I just want to understand.He sits down beside me. “What do you want toknow?” he asks wearily.“You don’t ha一ve to tell me. I don’t mean to intrude.”“Anastasia, it’s not that. I don’t like talking about thisshit. I’ve lived in a bubble for years with nothing affectingme and not ha一ving to justify myself to anyone. She’salways been there as a confidante. And now my past andmy future are colliding in a way I never thought possible.”I glance at him and he’s staring at me, his eyes wide.“I never thought I had a future with anyone, Anastasia.You give me hope and ha一ve me thinking about all sorts ofpossibilities.” He drifts off.“I was listening,” I whisper and stare back down at myhands.“What? To our conversation?”“Yes.”“Well?” He sounds resigned.“She cares for you.”“Yes, she does. And I for her in my own way, but itdoesn’t come close to how I feel about you. If that’s whatthis is about.”“I’m not jealous.” I’m wounded that he would thinkthat—or am I? Shit. Maybe that’s what this is. “You don’tlove her,” I murmur.He sighs again. He really is pissed. “A long time ago, Ithought I loved her,” he says through gritted teeth.Oh. “When we were in Georgia . . . you said youdidn’t love her.”“That’s right.”I frown.“I loved you then, Anastasia,” he whispers. “You’rethe only person I’d fly three thousand miles to see.”Oh my. I don’t understand. He still wanted me as asub then. My frown deepens.“The feelings I ha一ve for you are very different from anyI ever had for Elena,” he says by way of explanation.“When did you know?”He shrugs. “Ironically, it was Elena who pointed it outto me. She encouraged me to go to Georgia.”I knew it! I knew it in Sa一vannah. I gaze at him,blankly.What do I make of this? Maybe she is on my side andjust worried that I’ll hurt him. The thought is painful. Iwould never want to hurt him. She’s right—he’s been hurtenough.Perhaps she’s not so bad. I shake my head. I don’twant to accept his relationship with her. I disapprove. Yes,that’s what this is. She’s an unsa一vory character whopreyed on a vulnerable adolescent, robbing him of histeenage years, no matter what he says.“So you desired her? When you were younger.”“Yes.”Oh.“She taught me a great deal. She taught me to believein myself.”Oh. “But she also beat the shit out of you.”He smiles fondly. “Yes, she did.”He smiles fondly. “Yes, she did.”“And you liked that?”“At the time I did.”“So much that you wanted to do it to others?”His eyes grow wide and serious. “Yes.”“Did she help you with that?”“Yes.”“Did she sub for you?”“Yes.”Holy fuck. “Do you expect me to like her?” My voicesounds brittle and bitter.“No. Though it would make my life a hell of a loteasier,” he says wearily. “I do understand your reticence.”“Reticence! Jeez, Christian—if that were your son,how would you feel?”He blinks at me as though he doesn’t comprehend thequestion. He frowns. “I didn’t ha一ve to stay with her. It wasmy choice, too, Anastasia,” he murmurs.This is getting me nowhere.“Who’s Linc?”“Her ex-husband.”“Lincoln Timber?”“The very same,” he smirks.“And Isaac?”“Her current submissive.”Oh no.“He’s in his mid-twenties, Anastasia. You know—aconsenting adult,” he adds quickly, correctly decipheringmy look of disgust.I flush. “Your age,” I mutter.I flush. “Your age,” I mutter.“Look, Anastasia, as I said to her, she’s part of mypast. You are my future. Don’t let her come between us,please. And quite frankly, I’m really bored of this subject.I’m going to do some work.” He stands and gazes downat me. “Let it go. Please.”I stare mulishly up at him.“Oh, I almost forgot,” he adds. “Your car arrived aday early. It’s in the garage. Taylor has the key.”Whoa . . . the Saab? “Can I drive it tomorrow?”“No.”“Why not?”“You know why not. And that reminds me. If you aregoing to lea一ve your office, let me know. Sawyer was there,watching you. It seems I can’t trust you to look afteryourself at all.” He scowls down at me, making me feellike an errant child—again. And I would argue with him,but he’s pretty worked up over Elena, and I don’t want topush him any further, but I can’t resist one comment.“Seems I can’t trust you either,” I mutter. “You couldha一ve told me Sawyer was watching me.”“Do you want to fight about that, too?” he snaps.“I wasn’t aware we were fighting. I thought we werecommunicating,” I mumble petulantly.He closes his eyes briefly as he struggles to contain histemper. I swallow and watch anxiously. Jeez, this could goeither way.“I ha一ve to work,” he says quietly, and with that, helea一ves the room.I exhale. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. II exhale. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. Iflop back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.Can we ever ha一ve a normal conversation without itdisintegrating into an argument? It’s exhausting.We just don’t know each other that well. Do I reallywant to move in with him? I don’t even know if I shouldmake him a cup of tea or coffee while he’s working.Should I disturb him at all? I ha一ve no idea of his likes anddislikes.Evidently he’s bored with the whole Elena thing—he’sright, I need to move on. Let it go. Well, at least he’s notexpecting me to be friends with her, and I hope that she’llnow stop hassling me for a meeting.I get off the bed and wander to the window. Unlockingthe balcony door, I open it and stroll over to the glassrailing. Its transparency is unnerving. The air’s chilly andfresh, as I’m up so high.I gaze out over the twinkling lights of Seattle. He’s sofar removed from everything up here in his fortress.Answerable to no one. He’d just told me he loves me,then all this crap comes up because of that dreadfulwoman. I roll my eyes. His life is so complicated. He’s socomplicated.With a hea一vy sigh and a last glance at Seattle spreadlike cloths of gold at my feet, I decide to call Ray. Iha一ven’t spoken to him for a while. It’s a brief conversationas per usual, but I ascertain he’s fine and that I’minterrupting an important soccer match.“Hope all is well with Christian,” he says casually, andI know he’s fishing for information but doesn’t really wantI know he’s fishing for information but doesn’t really wantto know.“Yeah. We’re cool.” Sort of, and I’m moving in withhim. Though we ha一ven’t discussed a timetable.“Love you, Dad.”“Love you, too, Annie.”I hang up and check my watch. It’s only ten. Becauseof our discussion, I am feeling strangely innervated andrestless.I shower quickly, and back in the bedroom, decide towear one of the nightdresses that Caroline Acton procuredfor me from Neiman Marcus. Christian’s always moaningabout my T-shirts. There are three. I choose the pale pinkand put it on over my head. The fabric skims across myskin, caressing and clinging to me as it falls around mybody. It feels luxurious—the finest, thinnest satin. Holycrap. In the mirror, I look like a 1930s movie star. It’slong, elegant—and very un-me.I grab the matching robe and decide to hunt out abook in the library. I could read on my iPad—but rightnow, I want the comfort and reassurance of a physicalbook. I’ll lea一ve Christian alone. Perhaps he’ll recover hisgood humor once he’s finished working.There are so many books in Christian’s library.Scanning every title will take forever. I glance occasionallyat the billiard table and flush as I recall our previousevening. I smile when I see that the ruler is still on the floor.Picking it up, I swat my palm. Ow! It stings.Why can’t I take a little more pain for my man?Disconsolately, I place it on the desk and continue my huntDisconsolately, I place it on the desk and continue my huntfor a good read.Most of the books are first editions. How can he ha一veamassed a collection like this in such a short time? PerhapsTaylor’s job description includes book buying. I settle onRebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. I ha一ven’t read this for along time. I smile as I curl up in one of the overstuffedarmchairs and read the first line:Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again . . .I am jostled awake as Christian lifts me in his arms.“Hey,” he murmurs, “you fell asleep. I couldn’t findyou.” He nuzzles my hair. Sleepily, I put my arms aroundhis neck and breathe in his scent—oh, he smells so good—as he carries me back to the bedroom. He lays medown on the bed and covers me.“Sleep, baby,” he whispers and he presses his lipsagainst my forehead.I wake suddenly from a disturbing dream and ammomentarily disorientated. I find myself anxiously checkingthe end of the bed, but there’s no one there. Drifting fromthe great room, I hear the faint strains of a complexmelody from the piano.What time is it? I check the alarm clock—two in themorning. Has Christian come to sleep at all? I disentanglemy legs from my robe, which I’m still wearing, andmy legs from my robe, which I’m still wearing, andclamber out of bed.In the great room, I stand in the shadows, listening.Christian is lost to the music. He looks safe and secure inhis bubble of light. And the tune he plays has a liltingmelody, parts of which sound familiar, but so elaborate.Jeez, he’s good. Why does this always take me bysurprise?The whole scene looks different somehow, and Irealize that the piano lid is down, giving me an unhinderedview. He glances up and our eyes lock, his gray and softlyluminous in the diffuse glow of the lamp. He continues toplay, not faltering at all, as I make my way over to him. Hiseyes follow me, drinking me in, burning brighter. As Ireach him, he stops.“Why did you stop? That was lovely.”“Do you ha一ve any idea how desirable you look at themoment?” he says, his voice soft.Oh. “Come to bed,” I whisper and his eyes heat as heholds out his hand. When I take it, he tugs unexpectedly soI fall into his lap. He wraps his arms around me andnuzzles my neck behind my ear, sending shivers down myspine.“Why do we fight?” he whispers, as his teeth graze myearlobe.Holy cow. My heart skips a beat, then starts pounding,coursing heat throughout my body.“Because we’re getting to know each other, andyou’re stubborn and cantankerous and moody anddifficult,” I murmur breathlessly, shifting my head to givedifficult,” I murmur breathlessly, shifting my head to givehim better access to my throat. He runs his nose down myneck, and I feel his smile.“I’m all those things, Miss Steele. It’s a wonder youput up with me.” He nips my earlobe and I moan. “Is italways like this?” he sighs.“I ha一ve no idea.”“Me neither.” He yanks the sash of my robe so it fallsopen, and his hand skims down my body, over my breast.My nipples harden beneath his gentle touch and strainagainst the satin. He continues down to my waist, down tomy hip.“You feel so fine under this material, and I can seeeverything—even this.” He tugs gently on my pubic hairthrough the fabric, making me gasp, while his other handfists in my hair at my nape. Pulling my head back, he kissesme, his tongue urgent, relentless, needy. I moan inresponse and caress his dear, dear face. His hand gentlypulls my nightdress up, slowly, tantalizingly until he’sfondling my naked behind and then running his thumbnaildown the inside of my thigh.Suddenly he rises, startling me, and he lifts me bodilyonto the piano. My feet rest on the keys, soundingdiscordant, disjointed notes, and his hands skim up mylegs and part my knees. He grabs my hands.“Lie back,” he orders, holding my hands while I sinkback on top of the piano. The lid is hard anduncompromising against my back. He lets go and pushesmy legs open wider, my feet dancing over the keys, overthe lower and higher notes.the lower and higher notes.Oh boy. I know what he’s going to do, and theanticipation . . . I groan loudly as he kisses the inside of myknee, then kisses and sucks and nips his way higher up myleg to my thigh. The soft satin of my nightgown rises higher,skimming over my sensitized skin, as he pushes the fabric.I flex my feet and the chords sound again. Closing myeyes, I surrender myself to him as his mouth reaches theapex of my thighs.He kisses me . . . there . . . Oh boy . . . then gentlyblows before his tongue circles my clitoris. He pushes mylegs wider. I feel so open—so exposed. He holds me inplace, his hands just above my knees as his tongue torturesme, giving no quarter, no respite . . . no reprieve. Tiltingmy hips up, meeting and matching his rhythm, I amconsumed.“Oh, Christian, please.” I moan.“Oh no, baby, not yet,” he teases, but I feel myselfquicken as does he, and he stops.“No,” I whimper.“This is my revenge, Ana,” he growls softly. “Arguewith me, and I am going to take it out on your bodysomehow.” He trails kisses along my belly, his handstra一veling up my thighs, stroking, kneading, tantalizing. Histongue circles my na一vel as his hands—and his thumbs . . .oh his thumbs—reach the summit of my thighs.“Ah!” I cry out as he pushes one inside me. The otherpersecutes me, slowly, agonizingly, circling round andround. My back arches off the piano as I writhe beneathhis touch. It’s almost unbearable.his touch. It’s almost unbearable.“Christian!” I cry, spiraling out of control with need.He takes pity on me and stops. Lifting my feet off thekeys, he pushes me; and suddenly, I’m sliding effortlesslyup the piano, gliding on satin, and he’s following me upthere, briefly kneeling between my legs to roll on acondom. He hovers over me and I’m panting, gazing up athim with raging need, and I realize he’s naked. When didhe take off his clothes?He stares down at me, and there’s wonder in his eyes,wonder and love and passion, and it’s breathtaking.“I want you so badly,” he says and very slowly,exquisitely, he sinks into me.I am sprawled on top of him, wrung out, my limbs hea一vyand languid, as we lie on top of his grand piano. Oh my.He’s much more comfortable to lie on than the piano.Careful not to touch his chest, I rest my cheek against himand keep perfectly still. He doesn’t object, and I listen tohis breathing as it slows like mine. Gently he strokes myhair.“Do you drink tea or coffee in the evening?” I asksleepily.“What a strange question,” he says dreamily.“I thought I could bring you tea in your study, and thenI realized I didn’t know what you would like.”“Oh, I see. Water or wine in the evening, Ana. Thoughmaybe I should try tea.”His hand moves rhythmically down my back, strokingme tenderly.“We really know very little about each other,” Imurmur.“I know,” he says, and his voice is mournful. I sit up togaze at him.“What is it?” I ask. He shakes his head as if to ridhimself of some unpleasant thought, and raising his hand,he caresses my cheek, his eyes bright and earnest.“I love you, Ana Steele,” he says.The alarm blasts on with the six am traffic news, and I amrudely awakened from my disturbing dream of over-blondand dark-haired women. I can’t grasp what it’s about, andI’m immediately distracted because Christian Grey iswrapped around me like silk, his unruly-haired head on mychest, his hand on my breast, his leg over me, holding medown. He’s still asleep, and I am too warm. But I ignoremy discomfort, tentatively reaching up to run my fingersgently through his hair, and he stirs. Raising bright grayeyes, he grins sleepily. Holy cow . . . he’s adorable.“Good morning, beautiful,” he says.“Good morning, beautiful yourself.” I smile back athim. He kisses me, disentangles himself, and leans up onhis elbow, staring down at me.his elbow, staring down at me.“Sleep okay?” he asks.“Yes, despite the interruption to my sleep last night.”His grin broadens. “Hmm. You can interrupt me likethat anytime.” He kisses me again.“How about you? Did you sleep well?”“I always sleep well with you, Anastasia.”“No more nightmares?”“No.”I frown and chance a question. “What are yournightmares about?”His brow creases and his grin fades. Shit—my stupidcuriosity.“They’re flashbacks of my early childhood, or so Dr.Flynn says. Some vivid, some less so.” His voice dropsand a distant, harrowed look crosses his face.Absentmindedly, he begins to trace my collarbone with hisfinger, distracting me.“Do you wake up crying and screaming?” I try in vainto joke.He looks at me, puzzled. “No, Anastasia. I’ve nevercried. As far as I can remember.” He frowns, as ifreaching into the depths of his memories. Oh no—that’stoo dark a place to go at this hour, surely.“Do you ha一ve any happy memories of yourchildhood?” I ask quickly, mainly to distract him. He lookspensive for a moment, still running his finger along my skin.“I recall the crack whore baking. I remember the smell.A birthday cake I think. For me. And then there’s Mia’sarrival with my mom and dad. My mom was worriedarrival with my mom and dad. My mom was worriedabout my reaction, but I adored baby Mia immediately.My first word was Mia. I remember my first piano lesson.Miss Kathie, my tutor, was awesome. She kept horses,too.” He smiles wistfully.“You said your mom sa一ved you. How?”His reverie is broken, and he gazes at me as if I don’tunderstand the elementary math of two plus two.“She adopted me,” he says simply. “I thought she wasan angel when I first met her. She was dressed in whiteand so gentle and calm as she examined me. I’ll neverforget that. If she’d said no or if Carrick had said no . . .”He shrugs and glances over his shoulder at the alarmclock. “This is all a little deep for so early in the morning,”he mutters.“I ha一ve made a vow to get to know you better.”“Did you now, Miss Steele? I thought you wanted toknow if I preferred coffee or tea.” He smirks. “Anyway, Ican think of one way you can get to know me.” He pusheshis hips suggestively against me.“I think I know you quite well enough that way.” Myvoice is haughty and scolding, and it makes him smile morebroadly.“I don’t think I’ll ever get to know you well enoughthat way,” he murmurs. “There are definite advantages towaking up beside you.” His voice is soft and bonemeltinglyseductive.“Don’t you ha一ve to get up?” My voice is low andhusky. Jeez, what he does to me . . .“Not this morning. Only one place I want to be up right“Not this morning. Only one place I want to be up rightnow, Miss Steele.” And his eyes sparkle salaciously.“Christian!” I gasp, shocked. He shifts suddenly so thathe’s on top of me, pressing me into the bed. Grabbing myhands, he pulls them up above my head and begins to kissmy throat.“Oh, Miss Steele.” He smiles against my skin, sendingdelicious tingles through me, as his hand tra一vels down mybody and starts to slowly hitch up my satin nightdress.“Oh, what I’d like to do to you,” he murmurs.And I am lost, interrogation over.Mrs. Jones sets down my breakfast of pancakes andbacon, and for Christian an omelet and bacon. We sit sideby side at the bar in a comfortable silence.“When am I going to meet your trainer, Claude, andput him through his paces?” I ask. Christian glances downat me, grinning.“Depends if you want to go to New York thisweekend or not—unless you’d like to see him early onemorning this week. I’ll ask Andrea to check on hisschedule and come back to you.”“Andrea?”“My PA.”Oh yes. “One of your many blondes,” I tease him.“She’s not mine. She works for me. You’re mine.”“I work for you,” I mutter sourly.He grins as if he’s forgotten. “So you do.” His beamingsmile is infectious.“Maybe Claude can teach me to kickbox,” I warn.“Oh yeah? Fancy your chances against me?” Christianraises an eyebrow, amused. “Bring it on, Miss Steele.” Heis so damned happy compared to yesterday’s foul moodafter Elena left. It’s totally disarming. Maybe it’s all thesex . . . perhaps that’s what’s making him so buoyant.I glance behind me at the piano, sa一voring the memoryof last night. “You put the lid of the piano back up.”“I closed it last night so as not to disturb you. Guess itdidn’t work, but I’m glad it didn’t.” Christian’s lips twitchinto a lascivious smile as he takes a bite of omelet. I gocrimson and smirk back at him.Oh yes . . . fun times on the piano.Mrs. Jones leans over and places a paper bagcontaining my lunch in front of me, making me flush guiltily.“For later, Ana. Tuna okay?”“Oh yes. Thank you, Mrs. Jones.” I give her a shysmile, which she reciprocates warmly before lea一ving thegreat room. I suspect it’s to give us some privacy.“Can I ask you something?” I turn back to Christian.His amused expression slips. “Of course.”“And you won’t be angry?”“Is it about Elena?”“No.”“Then I won’t be angry.”“But I now ha一ve a supplementary question.”“Oh?”“Which is about her.”He rolls his eyes. “What?” he says, and now he’sexasperated.“Why do you get so mad when I ask you about her?”“Honestly?”I scowl at him. “I thought you were always honest withme.”“I endea一vor to be.”