Part II 12

I narrow my eyes at him. “That sounds like a veryevasive answer.”“I am always honest with you, Ana. I don’t want toplay games. Well, not those sorts of games,” he qualifies,as his eyes heat.“What sort of games do you want to play?”He inclines his head to one side and smirks at me.“Miss Steele, you are so easily distracted.”I giggle. He’s right. “Mr. Grey, you are distracting onso many levels.” I gaze at his dancing gray eyes alight withhumor.“My fa一vorite sound in the whole world is your giggle,Anastasia. Now—what was your original question?” heasks smoothly, and I think he’s laughing at me. I try totwist my mouth to show my displeasure, but I like playfulFifty—he’s fun. I love some early morning banter. I frown,trying to recall my question.“Oh yes. You only saw your subs on the weekends?”“Yes, that’s correct,” he says regarding me nervously.I grin at him. “So, no sex during the week.”He laughs. “Oh, that’s where we’re going with this.”He looks vaguely relieved. “Why do you think I work outHe looks vaguely relieved. “Why do you think I work outevery weekday?” Now he really is laughing at me, but Idon’t care. I want to hug myself with glee. Another first—well, several firsts.“You look very pleased with yourself, Miss Steele.”“I am, Mr. Grey.”“You should be.” He grins. “Now eat your breakfast.”Oh, bossy Fifty . . . he’s never far away.We are in the back of the Audi. Taylor is driving with theintention of dropping me off at work, then Christian.Sawyer is riding shotgun.“Didn’t you say your roommate’s brother was arrivingtoday?” Christian asks, almost casually, his voice andexpression giving nothing away.“Oh, Ethan,” I gasp. “I forgot. Oh Christian, thank youfor reminding me. I’ll ha一ve to go back to the apartment.”His face falls. “What time?”“I’m not sure what time he’s arriving.”“I don’t want you going anywhere on your own,” hesays sharply.“I know,” I mutter and resist rolling my eyes at Mr.Over-Reaction. “Will Sawyer be spying—um . . .patrolling today?” I glance slyly in Sawyer’s direction tosee the backs of his ears turn red.“Yes,” Christian snaps, his eyes glacial.“If I was driving the Saab it would be easier,” I mutterpetulantly.“Sawyer will ha一ve a car, and he can drive you to your“Sawyer will ha一ve a car, and he can drive you to yourapartment, depending on what time.”“Okay. I think Ethan will probably contact me duringthe day. I’ll let you know what the plans are then.”He gazes at me, saying nothing. Oh, what is hethinking?“Okay,” he acquiesces. “Nowhere on your own. Doyou understand?” He wa一ves a long finger at me.“Yes, dear,” I mutter.There’s a trace of a smile on his face. “And maybe youshould just use your Blackberry—I’ll e-mail you on it.That should prevent my IT guy ha一ving a thoroughlyinteresting morning, okay?” His voice is sardonic.“Yes, Christian.” I can’t resist. I roll my eyes at him,and he smirks at me.“Why Miss Steele, I do believe you’re making mypalm twitch.”“Ah, Mr. Grey, your perpetually twitching palm. Whatare we going to do with that?”He laughs and then is distracted by his Blackberry,which must be on vibrate because it doesn’t ring. Hefrowns when he sees the caller ID.“What is it?” he snaps into the phone, then listensintently. I use the opportunity to study his lovely features—his straight nose, his hair hanging scruffily over hisforehead. I am distracted from my surreptitious ogling byhis expression, which turns from incredulity to amusement.I pay attention.“You’re kidding . . . For a scene . . . When did he tellyou this?” Christian chuckles, almost reluctantly. “No,you this?” Christian chuckles, almost reluctantly. “No,don’t worry. You don’t ha一ve to apologize. I’m gladthere’s a logical explanation. It did seem a ridiculously lowamount of money . . . I ha一ve no doub一t you’ve somethingevil and creative planned for your revenge. Poor Isaac.”He smiles. “Good . . . Good-bye.” He snaps the phoneshut and glances at me. His eyes are suddenly wary, butoddly, he looks relieved, too.“Who was that?” I ask.“You really want to know?” he asks quietly.And, I know. I shake my head and stare out mywindow at the gray Seattle day, feeling forlorn. Why can’tshe lea一ve him alone?“Hey.” He reaches for my hand and kisses each of myknuckles in turn, and suddenly he’s sucking my little finger,hard. Then biting it softly.Whoa! He has a hotline to my groin, I gasp and glancenervously at Taylor and Sawyer, then at Christian, and hiseyes are darker. He gives me a slow carnal smile.“Don’t sweat it, Anastasia,” he murmurs. “She’s in thepast.” And he plants a kiss in the center of my palm,sending tingles everywhere, and my momentary pique isforgotten.“Morning, Ana,” Jack mutters as I make my way to mydesk. “Nice dress.”I flush. The dress is part of my new wardrobe,courtesy of my incredibly rich boyfriend. It’s a sleevelessshift dress of pale blue linen, quite fitted, and I’m wearingshift dress of pale blue linen, quite fitted, and I’m wearingcream high-heeled sandals. Christian likes heels, I think. Ismile secretly at the thought but quickly recover my blandprofessional smile for my boss.“Good morning, Jack.”I set about ordering a messenger to take his brochureto the printers. He pops his head around his office door.“Could I ha一ve a coffee, please, Ana?”“Sure.” I wander into the kitchen and bump into Clairefrom reception, who is also fixing coffee.“Hey, Ana,” she says cheerfully.“Hi, Claire.”We chat briefly about her extended-family gatheringover the weekend, which she enjoyed immensely, and I tellher about sailing with Christian.“Your boyfriend is so dreamy, Ana,” she says, hereyes glazing over.I am tempted to roll my eyes at her.“He’s not bad-looking,” I smile and we both startlaughing.“You took your time!” Jack snaps when I bring in hiscoffee.Oh! “I’m sorry.” I flush then frown. I took the usualamount of time. What’s his problem? Perhaps he’snervous about something.He shakes his head. “Sorry, Ana. I didn’t mean tobark at you, honey.”Honey?“There’s something going on at senior managementlevel, and I don’t know what it is. Keep your ear to theground, okay? If you hear anything—I know how you girlstalk.” He grins at me, and I feel slightly sick. He has noidea how we “girls” talk. Besides, I know what’shappening.“You’ll let me know, right?”“Sure,” I mutter. “I’ve sent the brochure to theprinters. It will be back by two o’clock.”“Great. Here.” He hands me a pile of manuscripts. “Allthese need synopses of the first chapter, then filing.”“I’ll get on it.”I am relieved to step out of his office and sit down atmy desk. Oh, it’s hard being in the know. What will he dowhen he finds out? My blood runs cold. Something tellsme Jack will be annoyed. I glance at my Blackberry andsmile. There’s an e-mail from Christian.From: Christian GreySubject: SunriseDate: June 14, 2011 09:23To: Anastasia SteeleI love waking up to you in the morning.Christian GreyCompletely & Utterly Smitten CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.I think my face splits in two with my grin, and my innergoddess back-flips over her chaise longue.From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: SundownDate: June 14, 2011 09:35To: Christian GreyDear Completely & Utterly SmittenI love waking up to you, too. But I love being in bed with you andin elevators and on pianos and billiard tables and boats and desksand showers and bathtubs and strange wooden crosses withshackles and four-poster beds with red satin sheets andboathouses and childhood bedrooms.YoursSex Mad and Insatiable xxFrom: Christian GreySubject: Wet HardwareDate: June 14, 2011 09:37To: Anastasia SteeleDear Sex Mad and InsatiableI’ve just spat coffee all over my keyboard.I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.I do admire a woman who concentrates on geography.Am I to infer you just want me for my body?Christian GreyCompletely & Utterly Shocked CEO, Grey Enterprises HoldingsInc.From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: Giggling—and wet tooDate: June 14, 2011: 09:42To: Christian GreyDear Completely & Utterly ShockedAlways.I ha一ve work to do.Stop bothering me.SM&I xxFrom: Christian GreySubject: Do I ha一ve to?Date: June 14, 2011 09:50To: Anastasia SteeleTo: Anastasia SteeleDear SM&IAs ever, your wish is my command.Love that you are giggling and wet.Laters, baby.xChristian Grey,Completely & Utterly Smitten, Shocked and Spellbound CEO, GreyEnterprises Holdings Inc.I put the Blackberry down and get on with my work.At lunchtime, Jack asks me to go down to the deli for hislunch. I call Christian as soon as I lea一ve Jack’s office.“Anastasia.” He answers immediately, his voice warmand caressing. How is it that this man can make me meltover the phone?“Christian, Jack has asked me to get his lunch.”“Lazy bastard,” Christian gripes.I ignore him and continue. “So I’m going to get it. Itmight be handy if you ga一ve me Sawyer’s number, so Idon’t ha一ve to bother you.”“It’s no bother, baby.”“Are you on your own?”“No. There are six people staring at me at the momentwondering who the hell I’m talking to.”Shit . . . “Really?” I gasp, panicked.“Yes. Really. My girlfriend,” he announces away fromthe phone.Holy cow! “They probably all thought you were gay,you know.”He laughs. “Yeah, probably.” I hear his grin.“Er—I’d better go.” I am sure he can tell howembarrassed I am to be interrupting him.“I’ll let Sawyer know.” He laughs again. “Ha一ve youheard from your friend?”“Not yet. You’ll be the first to know, Mr. Grey.”“Good. Laters, baby.”“Bye, Christian.” I grin. Every time he says that, itmakes me smile . . . so un-Fifty, but somehow so him, too.When I exit moments later, Sawyer is waiting on thedoorstep of the building.“Miss Steele,” he greets me formally.“Sawyer.” I nod in response and together we headdown to the deli.I don’t feel as comfortable with Sawyer as I do withTaylor. He continually scans the street as we make ourway along the block. It actually makes me more nervous,and I find myself mirroring his actions.Is Leila out there? Or are we all infected by Christian’sparanoia? Is this part of his fifty shades? What I’d give forhalf an hour of candid discussion with Dr. Flynn, to findout.out.There’s nothing amiss, just lunchtime Seattle—peoplerushing for lunch, shopping, meeting friends. I watch twoyoung women hug as they meet up.I miss Kate. It’s only been two weeks since she left forher vacation, but it feels like the longest two weeks of mylife. So much has happened—she’ll never believe me whenI tell her. Well, tell her the edited NDA-compliant version.I frown. I’ll ha一ve to talk to Christian about that. Whatwould Kate make of it? I blanch at the thought. Perhapsshe’ll be back with Ethan. I feel a rush of excitement at thethought, but I think it’s unlikely. She’d stay on with Elliotsurely.“Where do you stand when you’re waiting andwatching outside?” I ask Sawyer as we get in line forlunch. Sawyer is in front of me, facing the door, continuallymonitoring the street and anyone who comes in. It’sunnerving.“I sit in the coffee shop directly across the street, MissSteele.”“Doesn’t it get very boring?”“Not to me, ma’am. It’s what I do,” he says stiffly.I flush. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply . . .” My voicetrails off at his kind, understanding expression.“Please, Miss Steele. My job is to protect you. Andthat’s what I’ll do.”“So, no sign of Leila?”“No, ma’am.”I frown. “How do you know what she looks like?”“I’ve seen her photograph.”“I’ve seen her photograph.”“Oh, do you ha一ve it on you?”“No, ma’am.” He taps his skull. “Committed tomemory.”Of course. I’d really like to examine a photograph ofLeila to see what she looked like before she becameGhost Girl. I wonder if Christian would let me ha一ve acopy? Yes, he probably would—for my safety. I hatch aplan, and my subconscious gloats and nods approvingly.The brochures arrive back at the office, and I ha一ve to say,they look great. I take one into Jack’s office. His eyes lightup, and I don’t know if it’s at me or the brochure. Ichoose to believe it’s the latter.“These look great, Ana.” Idly, he flicks through it.“Yeah, good job. Are you seeing your boyfriend thisevening?” His lip curls as he says boyfriend.“Yes. We live together.” It’s sort of the truth. Well, wedo at the moment. And I ha一ve officially agreed to move in,so it’s not much of a white lie. I hope that it’s enough tothrow him off the scent.“Would he object to you coming out for a quick drinktonight? To celebrate all your hard work?”“I ha一ve a friend coming in from out of town tonight,and we’re all going out for dinner.” And I’ll be busy everynight, Jack.“I see.” He sighs, exasperated. “Maybe when I’mback from New York, huh?” He raises his eyebrows inexpectation, and his gaze darkens suggestively.expectation, and his gaze darkens suggestively.Oh no. I smile, noncommittal, stifling a shudder.“Would you like some coffee or tea?” I ask.“Coffee, please.” His voice is low and husky as if he’sasking for something else. Fuck. He’s not going to backoff. I can see that now. Oh . . . What to do?I breathe a long sigh of relief when I am out of hisoffice. He makes me tense. Christian is right about him,and part of me is pissed that Christian is right about him.I sit down at my desk and my Blackberry rings—anumber I don’t recognize.“Ana Steele.”“Hi, Steele!” Ethan’s drawl catches me momentarily offguard.“Ethan! How are you?” I almost squeal with delight.“Glad to be back. I am seriously fed up with sunshineand rum punches, and my baby sister being hopelessly inlove with the big guy. It’s been hell, Ana.”“Yeah! Sea, sand, sun, and rum punches sounds likeDante’s Inferno.” I giggle. “Where are you?”“I’m at Sea-Tac, waiting for my bag. What are youdoing?”“I’m at work. Yes, I am gainfully employed,” Irespond to his gasp. “Do you want to come here andcollect the keys? I can meet you later at the apartment.”“Sounds great. I’ll see you in about 45 minutes, anhour maybe? What’s the address?”I give him SIP’s address.“See you soon, Ethan.”“Laters,” he says and hangs up. What? Not Ethan,“Laters,” he says and hangs up. What? Not Ethan,too? And it dawns on me that he’s just spent a week withElliot. I quickly type an e-mail to Christian.From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: Visitors from Sunny Climes.Date: June 14, 2011: 14:55To: Christian GreyDearest Completely & Utterly SS&SEthan is back, and he’s coming here to collect keys to theapartment.I’d really like to make sure he’s settled in okay.Why don’t you collect me after work? We can go to the apartmentthen we can ALL go out for a meal maybe?My treat?YourAna xStill SM&IAnastasia SteeleAssistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIPFrom: Christian GreySubject: Dinner OutDate: June 14, 2011 15:05To: Anastasia SteeleI approve of your plan. Except the part about you paying!My treat.I’ll collect you at 6:00.xPS: Why aren’t you using your Blackberry!!!Christian GreyCompletely and Utterly Annoyed, CEO, Grey Enterprises HoldingsInc.From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: BossinessDate: June 14, 2011: 15:11To: Christian GreyOh, don’t be so crusty and cross.It’s all in code.I’ll see you at 6:00.Ana xAnastasia SteeleAssistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIPFrom: Christian GreySubject: Maddening WomanDate: June 14, 2011 15:18To: Anastasia SteeleCrusty and cross!I’ll give you crusty and cross.And look forward to it.Christian GreyCompletely and Utterly More Annoyed, but smiling for someunknown reason, CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.From: Anastasia SteeleSubject: Promises. Promises.Date: June 14, 2011: 15:23To: Christian GreyBring it on, Mr. GreyI look forward to it too. ;DAna xAnastasia SteeleAssistant to Jack Hyde, Commissioning Editor, SIPHe doesn’t reply, but then I don’t expect him to. I imaginehim moaning about mixed signals, and the thought makesme smile. I daydream briefly about what he might do to mebut find myself shifting about in my chair. My subconsciousgazes at me disapprovingly over her half-moon specs—geton with your work.A little later, my phone buzzes. It’s Claire at reception.“There’s a real cute guy in reception to see you. Wemust go out for drinks sometime, Ana. You sure knowsome hunky guys,” she hisses conspiratorially through thephone.Ethan! Grabbing my keys from my purse, I hurry out tothe foyer.Holy shit—sun-bleached blond hair, a tan to die for,and glowing hazel eyes gaze up at me from the greenleather couch. As soon as he sees me, his mouth dropsopen, and he’s on his feet coming toward me.“Wow, Ana.” He frowns at me as he bends to give mehug.“You look well.” I grin up at him.“You look . . . wow—different. Worldly, moresophisticated. What’s happened? You changed your hair?Clothes? I don’t know, Steele, but you look hot!”I blush furiously. “Oh, Ethan. I’m just in my workclothes,” I scold as Claire looks on with an archedeyebrow and a wry smile.“How was Barbados?”“How was Barbados?”“Fun,” he says.“When’s Kate back?”“She and Elliot are flying back Friday. They’re prettydamn serious about each other.” Ethan rolls his eyes.“I’ve missed her.”“Yeah? How ha一ve you been doing with Mr. Mogul?”“Mr. Mogul?” I snicker. “Well, it’s been interesting.He’s taking us out for dinner this evening.”“Cool.” Ethan seems genuinely pleased. Phew!“Here.” I hand him the keys. “You ha一ve the address?”“Yeah. Laters.” He leans over and kisses my cheek.“Elliot’s expression?”“Yeah, kind of grows on you.”“It does. Laters.” I smile at him as he collects his largeshoulder bag from beside the green couch and exits thebuilding.When I turn, Jack is watching me from the far side ofthe foyer, his expression unreadable. I smile brightly at himand head back to my desk, feeling his eyes on me thewhole time. This is beginning to get on my nerves. What todo? I ha一ve no idea. I’ll ha一ve to wait until Kate is back.She’s bound to come up with a plan. The thought dispelsmy bleak mood, and I pick up the next manuscript.At five to six, my phone buzzes. It’s Christian.“Crusty and Cross here,” he says and I grin. He’s stillplayful Fifty. My inner goddess is clapping her hands withglee like a small child.glee like a small child.“Well, this is Sex Mad and Insatiable. I take it you’reoutside?” I ask dryly.“I am indeed, Miss Steele. Looking forward to seeingyou.” His voice is warm and seductive, and my heartflutters wildly.“Ditto, Mr. Grey. I’ll be right out.” I hang up.I switch off my computer and gather up my purse andcream cardigan.“I’m off now, Jack,” I call through.“Okay, Ana. Thanks for today, honey! Ha一ve a greatevening.”“You, too.”Why can’t he be like that all the time? I don’tunderstand him.The Audi is parked at the curb, and Christian climbs out asI approach. He’s taken off his jacket, and he’s wearing hisgray pants, my fa一vorite ones that hang from his hips—inthat way. How can this Greek god be meant for me? I findmyself grinning like a loon in answer to his own idioticgrin.He’s spent the whole day acting like a boyfriend inlove—in love with me. This adorable, complex, flawedman is in love with me, and I with him. Joy burstsunexpectedly inside me, and I sa一vor the moment as I feelbriefly that I could conquer the world.“Miss Steele, you look as captivating as you did thismorning.” Christian pulls me into his arms and kisses mesoundly.“Mr. Grey, so do you.”“Let’s go get your friend.” He smiles down at me andopens the car door.As Taylor heads to the apartment, Christian fills me inon his day—a much better one than yesterday, it seems. Igaze at him adoringly as he attempts to explain somebreakthrough the environmental science department atWSU in Vancouver has made. His words mean very littleto me, but I’m captivated by his passion and interest in thissubject. Maybe this is what it will be like, good days andbad days, and if the good days are like this, I won’t ha一vemuch to complain about. He hands me a sheet of paper.“These are the times that Claude is free this week,” hesays.Oh! The trainer.As we pull up to my apartment building, he fishes hisBlackberry from his pocket.“Grey,” he answers. “Ros, what is it?” He listensintently, and I can tell it’s an involved conversation.“I’ll go and get Ethan. I’ll be two minutes,” I mouth atChristian and hold up two fingers.He nods, obviously distracted by the call. Taylor opensmy door, smiling at me warmly. I grin at him, even Taylor’sfeeling it. I press the entry phone and shout happily into it.“Hi, Ethan, it’s me. Let me in.”The door buzzes, and I head upstairs to the apartment.It occurs to me that I ha一ve not been here since Saturdaymorning. That seems so long ago. Ethan has kindly left thefront door open. I step into the apartment, and I don’tknow why, but I freeze instinctively as soon as I stepinside. I take a moment to realize it’s because the pale,wan figure standing by the kitchen island, holding a smallrevolver is Leila, and she’s gazing impassively at me.Holy fuck.She’s here, gazing at me with an unnerving blankexpression, holding a gun. My subconscious swoons into adead faint, and I don’t think even smelling salts will bringher back.I blink repeatedly at Leila as my mind goes intooverdrive. How did she get in? Where’s Ethan? Holy shit!Where is Ethan?A creeping cold fear grips my heart, and my scalpprickles as each and every follicle on my head tightens withprickles as each and every follicle on my head tightens withterror. What if she’s harmed him? I start breathing rapidlyas adrenaline and bone-numbing dread course through mybody. Keep calm, keep calm—I repeat the mantra overand over in my head.She tilts her head to one side, regarding me as if I’m anexhibit in a freak show. Jeez, I’m not the freak here.It feels like an eon has passed while I process all this,though in reality it is only a split second. Leila’s expressionremains blank, and her appearance is as scruffy and illkemptas ever. She’s still wearing that grubby trench coat,and she looks desperately in need of a wash. Her hair isgreasy and lank, plastered against her head, and her eyesare a dull brown, cloudy, and vaguely confused.Despite the fact that my mouth has no moisture in itwhatsoever, I attempt to speak. “Hi. Leila, isn’t it?” I rasp.She smiles, but it’s a disturbing curl of her lip rather than atrue smile.“She speaks,” she whispers, and her voice is soft andhoarse at the same time, an eerie sound.hoarse at the same time, an eerie sound.“Yes, I speak,” I say gently as if to a child. “Are youhere alone?” Where is Ethan? My heart pounds at thethought that he might ha一ve come to some harm.Her face falls, so much so that I think she’s about toburst into tears—she looks so forlorn.“Alone,” she whispers. “Alone.” And the depth ofsadness in that one word is heart wrenching. What doesshe mean? I am alone? She’s alone? She’s alone becauseshe’s harmed Ethan? Oh . . . no . . . I ha一ve to fight thechoking fear clawing at my throat as tears threaten.“What are you doing here? Can I help you?” Mywords are a calm, gentle interrogation despite thesuffocating fear in my throat. Her brow furrows as if she’scompletely befuddled by my questions. But she makes noviolent move against me. Her hand is still relaxed aroundher gun. I take a different tack, trying to ignore mytightening scalp.“Would you like some tea?” Why am I asking her ifshe wants tea? It’s Ray’s answer to any emotionalsituation, resurfacing inappropriately. Jeez, he’d ha一ve a fitif he saw me right this minute. His army training wouldha一ve kicked in, and he’d ha一ve disarmed her by now. She’snot actually pointing that gun at me. Perhaps I can move.She shakes her head and tilts it from side to side as ifstretching her neck.I take a deep precious lungful of air, trying to calm mypanicked breathing, and move toward the kitchen island.She frowns as if she can’t quite understand what I amdoing and shifts a little so she is still facing me. I reach thekettle and with a shaking hand fill it from the faucet. As Imove, my breathing eases. Yes, if she wanted me dead,surely she would ha一ve shot me by now. She watches mewith an absent, bemused curiosity. As I switch on thekettle, I’m plagued by the thought of Ethan. Is he hurt?Tied up?“Is there anyone else in the apartment?” I asktentatively.She inclines her head the other way, and with her righthand—the hand not holding the revolver—she grabs ahand—the hand not holding the revolver—she grabs astrand of her long greasy hair and starts twirling andfiddling with it, pulling and twisting. It’s obviously anervous habit, and while I am distracted by this, I amstruck once again by how much she resembles me. I holdmy breath, waiting for her answer, the anxiety building toan almost unbearable pitch.“Alone. All alone,” she murmurs. I find this comforting.Maybe Ethan isn’t here. The relief is empowering.“Are you sure you don’t want tea or coffee?”“Not thirsty,” she answers softly, and she takes acautious step toward me. My feeling of empowermentevaporates. Fuck! I start panting with fear again, feeling itsurge thick and rough through my veins. In spite of this andfeeling beyond bra一ve, I turn and fetch a couple of cupsfrom the cupboard.“What do you ha一ve that I don’t?” she asks, her voiceassuming the singsong intonation of a child.“What do you mean, Leila?” I ask as gently as I can.“Master—Mr. Grey—he lets you call him by his given“Master—Mr. Grey—he lets you call him by his givenname.”“I’m not his submissive, Leila. Er . . . Masterunderstands that I am unable, inadequate to fulfill thatrole.”She tilts her head to the other side. It’s whollyunnerving and unnatural as a gesture.“In-ad-e-quate.” She tests the word, sounding it out,seeing how it feels on her tongue. “But Master is happy. Iha一ve seen him. He laughs and smiles. These reactions arerare . . . very rare for him.”Oh.“You look like me.” Leila changes tack, surprising me,her eyes seeming to focus on me properly for the first time.“Master likes obedient ones who look like you and me.The others, all the same . . . all the same . . . and yet yousleep in his bed. I saw you.”Shit! She was in the room. I didn’t imagine it.“You saw me in his bed?” I whisper.“I never slept in Master’s bed,” she murmurs. She’slike a fallen ethereal wraith. Half a person. She looks soslight, and in spite of the fact that she’s holding a gun, Isuddenly feel overwhelmed with sympathy for her. Herhands flex around the weapon, and my eyes widen,threatening to pop from my head.“Why does Master like us like this? It makes me thinksomething . . . something . . . Master is dark . . . Master isa dark man, but I love him.”No, no, he’s not. I bristle internally. He’s not dark.He’s a good man, and he’s not in the dark. He’s joinedme in the light. And now she’s here, trying to drag himback with some warped idea that she loves him.“Leila, do you want to give me the gun?” I ask softly.Her hand grips it tightly, and she hugs it to her chest.“This is mine. It’s all I ha一ve left.” She gently caressesthe gun. “So she can join her love.”Holy shit! Which love—Christian? It’s like she’spunched me in the stomach. I know he will be heremomentarily to find out what’s keeping me. Does shemean to shoot him? The thought is so horrific, I feel mymean to shoot him? The thought is so horrific, I feel mythroat swell and ache as a huge knot forms there, almostchoking me, matching the fear that’s balled tightly in mystomach.Right on cue the door bursts open, and Christian isstanding in the doorway, Taylor behind him.Glancing at me briefly, Christian’s eyes sweep over mefrom head to toe, and I notice the small spark of relief inhis look. But his relief is fleeting as his gaze darts to Leilaand stills, focusing on her, not wa一vering in the slightest. Heglares at her with an intensity I ha一ve not seen before, hiseyes wild, wide, angry, and scared.Oh no . . . oh no.Leila’s eyes widen, and for a moment, it seems herreason returns. She blinks rapidly while her hand tightensonce more around the gun.My breath catches in my throat, and my heart startsthumping so loud that I hear the blood pounding in myears. No, no, no!My world teeters precariously in the hands of thisMy world teeters precariously in the hands of thispoor, fucked-up woman. Will she shoot? Both of us?Christian? The thought is crippling.But after an eternity, as time hangs suspended aroundus, her head dips slightly and she gazes up at him, throughher long lashes, her expression contrite.Christian holds up his hand, signaling to Taylor to staywhere he is. Taylor’s blanched face betrays his fury. I ha一venever seen him like this, but he stands stock-still asChristian and Leila stare at each other.I realize I’m holding my breath. What will she do?What will he do? But they just continue to stare at eachother. Christian’s expression is raw, full of some unnamedemotion. It could be pity, fear, affection . . . or is it love?No, please, not love!His eyes bore into her, and agonizingly slowly, theatmosphere in the apartment changes. The tension isbuilding so that I can sense their connection, the chargebetween them.No! Suddenly I feel I’m the interloper, intruding onthem as they stand gazing at each other. I’m an outsider—a voyeur, spying on a forbidden, intimate scene behindclosed curtains.Christian’s intense gaze burns brighter, and his bearingchanges sub一tly. He looks taller, more angular somehow,colder, and more distant. I recognize this stance. I’ve seenhim like this before—in his playroom.My scalp prickles anew. This is Dominant Christian,and how at ease he looks. Whether he was born to ormade for this role, I just don’t know, but with a sinkingheart and sickened stomach, I watch as Leila responds,her lips parting, her breathing picking up as the first flush ofcolor stains her cheeks. No! It’s such an unwelcomeglimpse into his past, agonizing to witness.Finally, he mouths a word at her. I can’t make outwhat it is, but the effect on Leila is immediate. She dropsto the floor on her knees, her head bowed, and the gunfalls and skitters uselessly across the wooden floor. Holyfuck.Christian walks calmly over to where the gun has fallenChristian walks calmly over to where the gun has fallenand bends gracefully to pick it up. He regards it with illdisguiseddisgust then slips it into his jacket pocket. Hegazes once more at Leila as she kneels compliantly besidethe kitchen island.“Anastasia, go with Taylor,” he commands. Taylorcrosses the threshold and stares at me.“Ethan,” I whisper.“Downstairs.” He responds matter-of-factly, his eyesnever lea一ving Leila.Downstairs. Not here. Ethan’s okay. Relief floods hardand fast through my blood, and for a moment I think I’mgoing to faint.“Anastasia,” Christian’s tone is clipped in warning.I blink at him, and I’m suddenly unable to move. Idon’t want to lea一ve him—lea一ve him with her. He moves tostand beside Leila as she kneels at his feet. He’s hoveringover her, protectively. She’s so still, it’s unnatural. I can’ttake my eyes off the two of them—together . . .“For the love of God, Anastasia, will you do as you’re“For the love of God, Anastasia, will you do as you’retold for once in your life and go!” Christian’s eyes lockwith mine as he glowers at me, his voice a blistering coldshard of ice. The anger beneath the quiet, deliberatedelivery of his words is palpable.Angry at me? Surely not. Please—No! I feel like he’sslapped me hard. Why does he want to stay with her?“Taylor. Take Miss Steele downstairs. Now.”Taylor nods at him as I stare at Christian.“Why?” I whisper.“Go. Back to the apartment.” His eyes blaze frostily atme. “I need to be alone with Leila.” He says it urgently.I think he’s trying to convey some kind of message, butI’m so thrown by all that’s happened that I’m not sure. Iglance down at Leila and notice a very small smile crossher lips, but otherwise she remains truly impassive. Acomplete submissive. Fuck! My heart chills.This is what he needs. This is what he likes. No! I wantto wail.“Miss Steele. Ana.” Taylor holds his hand out to me,imploring me to come. I am immobilized by the horrificspectacle before me. It confirms my worst fears and playson all my insecurities: Christian and Leila together—theDom and his sub.“Taylor,” Christian urges, and Taylor leans down andscoops me into his arms. The last thing I see as we lea一ve isChristian gently stroking Leila’s head as he murmurssomething softly to her.No!As Taylor carries me down the stairs, I lie limply in hisarms trying to grasp what’s happened in the last tenminutes—was it longer? Or shorter? The concept of timehas deserted me.Christian and Leila, Leila and Christian . . . together?What is he doing with her now?“Jesus, Ana! What the fuck is going on?”I am relieved to see Ethan as he paces the small lobby,still carrying his large shoulder bag. Oh, thank hea一venshe’s okay! When Taylor sets me down, I practically throwmyself at Ethan, wrapping my arms around his neck.myself at Ethan, wrapping my arms around his neck.“Ethan. Oh, thank God!” I hug him, holding him close.I was so worried, and for a brief moment, I enjoy somerespite from my rising panic at what is unfolding upstairs inmy apartment.“What the fuck is going on, Ana? Who’s this guy?”“Oh, sorry, Ethan, this is Taylor. He works withChristian. Taylor, this is Ethan, my roommate’s brother.”They nod at each other.“Ana, upstairs, what’s going on? I was fishing for theapartment keys when these guys jumped out of nowhereand grabbed them. One of them was Christian . . .”Ethan’s voice trails off.“You were late . . . Thank God.”“Yeah. I met a friend from Pullman—we had a quickdrink. Upstairs, what’s going on?”“There’s a girl, an ex of Christian’s. In our apartment.She’s gone postal, and Christian is . . .” My voice cracks,and tears pool in my eyes.“Hey,” Ethan whispers and pulls me close once more.“Hey,” Ethan whispers and pulls me close once more.“Has anyone called the cops?”“No, it’s not like that.” I sob into his chest and nowI’ve started, I can’t stop crying, the tension of this latestepisode releasing through my tears. Ethan tightens his armsaround me, but I sense his bemusement.“Hey, Ana, let’s go get a drink.” He pats my backawkwardly. Abruptly, I feel awkward, too, andembarrassed, and in all honesty, I want to be on my own.But I nod, accepting his offer. I want to be away fromhere, away from whatever’s going on upstairs.I turn to Taylor.“Was the apartment checked?” I ask him tearfully,wiping my nose with the back of my hand.“This afternoon.” Taylor shrugs apologetically as hehands me a handkerchief. He looks devastated. “I’msorry, Ana,” he murmurs.I frown. Jeez, he looks so guilty. I don’t want to makehim feel worse.“She does seem to ha一ve an uncanny ability to evadeus,” he adds scowling again.“Ethan and I will go for a quick drink then head backto Escala.” I dry my eyes.Taylor shuffles from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Mr.Grey wanted you to go back to the apartment,” he saysquietly.“Well, we know where Leila is now.” I can’t keep thebitterness out of my voice. “So, no need for all thesecurity. Tell Christian we’ll see him later.”Taylor opens his mouth to speak and then wiselycloses it again.“Do you want to lea一ve your bag with Taylor?” I askEthan.“No, I’ll keep it with me, thanks.”Ethan nods at Taylor, then ushers me out of the frontdoor. Too late, I remember that I’ve left my purse in theback of Audi. I ha一ve nothing.“My purse—”“Don’t worry,” Ethan murmurs, his face full of concern.“It’s cool, it’s on me.”“It’s cool, it’s on me.”We choose a bar across the street, settling onto woodenbar stools by the window. I want to see what’s going on—who’s coming, and more importantly who’s going. Ethanhands me a bottle of beer.“Trouble with an ex?” he says gently.“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” I mutter,abruptly guarded. I can’t talk about this—I ha一ve signed anNDA. And for the first time, I really resent that fact andthat Christian’s said nothing about rescinding it.“I’ve got time,” Ethan says kindly and takes a long slugof his beer.“She’s an ex, from years back. She left her husbandfor some guy. Then a couple of weeks or so ago he waskilled in a car crash, and now she’s come after Christian.”I shrug. There, that didn’t give too much away.“Come after him?”“She had a gun.”“She had a gun.”“What the fuck!”“She didn’t actually threaten anyone with it. I think shemeant to harm herself. But that’s why I was so worriedabout you. I didn’t know if you were in the apartment.”“I see. She sounds unstable.”“Yes, she is.”“And what’s Christian doing with her now?”The blood drains from my face and bile rises in mythroat. “I don’t know,” I whisper.Ethan’s eyes widen—at last he’s got it.This is the crux of my problem. What the fuck are theydoing? Talking, I hope. Just talking. Yet all I can see in mymind’s eye is his hand, tenderly stroking her hair.She’s disturbed and Christian cares about her ,that’s all this is, I rationalize. But in the back of my mind,my subconscious is shaking her head sadly.It’s more than that. Leila was able to fulfill his needs ina way I cannot. The thought is depressing.I try to focus on all we’ve done in the last few days—his declaration of love, his flirty humor, his playfulness. ButElena’s words keep coming back to taunt me. It’s truewhat they say about ea一vesdroppers.Don’t you miss it . . . your playroom?I finish my beer in record time, and Ethan lines upanother. I am not much of a companion, but to his credithe stays with me, chatting, trying to lift my spirits, talkingabout Barbados, and Kate and Elliot’s antics, which iswonderfully distracting. But it’s just that—a distraction.My mind, my heart, my soul are all still in thatapartment with my Fifty Shades and the woman who usedto be his submissive. A woman who thinks she still loveshim. A woman who looks like me.During our third beer, a large cruiser with hea一vily-tintedwindows pulls up next to the Audi in front of theapartment. I recognize Dr. Flynn as he climbs out,accompanied by a woman dressed in what look like paleblue scrubs. I glimpse Taylor as he lets them in through thefront door.“Who’s that?” Ethan asks.“Who’s that?” Ethan asks.“His name’s Dr. Flynn. Christian knows him.”“What kind of doctor?”“A shrink.”“Oh.”We both watch, and a few minutes later they are back.Christian is carrying Leila who is wrapped in a blanket.What? I watch horrified as they all climb into the cruiser,and it speeds away.Ethan glances at me sympathetically, and I feeldesolate, completely desolate.“Can I ha一ve something a bit stronger?” I ask Ethan, myvoice small.“Sure. What would you like?”“A brandy. Please.”Ethan nods and retreats to the bar. I gaze through thewindow at the front door. Moments later Taylor emerges,climbs into the Audi, and heads off toward Escala . . . afterChristian? I don’t know.Ethan places a large brandy in front of me.Ethan places a large brandy in front of me.“Come on, Steele. Let’s get drunk.”Sounds like the best offer I’ve had in a while. We clinkglasses, and I take a gulp of the burning amber liquid, thefiery heat a welcome distraction from the hideousblossoming pain in my heart.It’s late, and I feel fuzzy. Ethan and I are locked out of theapartment. He insists on walking me back to Escala, buthe won’t stay. He’s called the friend he met earlier for adrink and arranged to crash with him.“So, this is where the Mogul lives.” Ethan whistlesthrough his teeth, impressed.I nod.“Sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” heasks.“No, I need to face this—or just go to bed.”“See you tomorrow?”“Yes. Thanks, Ethan.” I hug him.“Yes. Thanks, Ethan.” I hug him.“You’ll work it out, Steele,” he murmurs against myear. He releases me and watches while I head into thebuilding.“Laters,” he calls. I offer him a weak smile and a wa一vethen press the button to call the elevator.The elevator doors open, and I step into Christian’sapartment. Taylor is not waiting, which is unusual. Openingthe double doors, I head toward the great room. Christianis on the phone, pacing the room near the piano.“She’s here,” he snaps. He turns to glare at me as heswitches off his phone. “Where the fuck ha一ve you been?”he growls but doesn’t make a move toward me.Holy crap, he’s angry with me? He’s the one that justspent God knows how long with his loony ex-girlfriend,and he’s angry with me?“Ha一ve you been drinking?” he asks, appalled.“A bit.” I didn’t think it was that obvious.He gasps and runs his hand through his hair. “I told youto come back here.” His voice is menacingly quiet. “It’snow fifteen after ten. I’ve been worried about you.”“I went for a drink or three with Ethan while youattended to your ex,” I hiss at him. “I didn’t know howlong you were going to be . . . with her.”He narrows his eyes and takes a few paces toward mebut stops.“Why do you say it that like that?”I shrug and stare down at my fingers.“Ana, what’s wrong?” And for the first time, I hearsomething other than anger in his voice. What? Fear?I swallow, trying to work out what I want to say.“Where’s Leila?” I ask looking up at him.“In a psychiatric hospital in Fremont,” he says, and hisface is scrutinizing mine. “Ana, what is it?” He movestoward me until he’s standing right in front of me. “What’swrong?” he breathes.I shake my head. “I’m no good for you.”“What?” he breathes, his eyes widening in alarm. “Whydo you think that? How can you possibly think that?”“I can’t be everything you need.”“I can’t be everything you need.”“You are everything I need.“Just seeing you with her . . .” My voice trails off.“Why do you do this to me? This is not about you,Ana. It’s about her.” He takes a sharp breath, running hishand through his hair again. “At the moment she’s a verysick girl.”“But I felt it . . . what you had together.”“What? No.” He reaches for me, and I step backinstinctively. He drops his hand, blinking at me. He looksas though he’s seized with panic.“You’re running?” he whispers as his eyes widen withfear.I say nothing as I try to collect my scattered thoughts.“You can’t,” he pleads.“Christian . . . I—” I struggle to collect my thoughts.What am I trying to say? I need time, time to process this.Give me time.“No. No!” he says.“I . . .”“I . . .”He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? Fordivine intervention? I don’t know.“You can’t go. Ana, I love you!”“I love you, too, Christian, it’s just—”“No . . . no!” he says in desperation and puts bothhands on his head.“Christian . . .”“No,” he breathes, his eyes wide with panic, andsuddenly he drops to his knees in front of me, headbowed, long-fingered hands spread out on his thighs. Hetakes a deep breath and doesn’t move.What? “Christian, what are you doing?”He continues to stare down, not looking at me.“Christian! What are you doing?” My voice is highpitched.He doesn’t move. “Christian, look at me!” Icommand in panic.His head sweeps up without hesitation, and he regardsme passively with his cool gray gaze—he’s almostserene . . . expectant.