Part II 18

Oh, please, let him be okay. He cannot be gone. He isthe center of my universe.An involuntary sob escapes my throat, and I clutch myhand to my mouth. No. I must be strong.José is suddenly at my side, or has he been there awhile? I ha一ve no idea.“Do you want to call your mom or dad?” he asksgently.No! I shake my head and clutch José’s hand. I cannotspeak, I know I will dissolve if I do, but the warmth andgentle squeeze of his hand offers me no solace.Oh, Mom. My lip trembles at the thought of mymother. Should I call her? No. I couldn’t deal with herreaction. Maybe Ray, he wouldn’t get emotional—henever gets emotional, not even when the Mariners lose.Grace rises to join the boys, distracting me. That mustbe the longest she’s sat still. Mia comes to sit beside metoo and grabs my other hand.“He will come back,” she says, her voice initiallydetermined but cracking on the last word. Her eyes arewide and red-rimmed, her face pale and pinched from lackof sleep.I gaze up at Ethan, who is watching Mia and Elliot,who has his arms around Grace. I glance at the clock. It’safter eleven, heading toward midnight. Damn time! Withafter eleven, heading toward midnight. Damn time! Witheach passing hour, the clawing emptiness expands,consuming me, choking me. I know deep down inside Iam preparing myself, preparing myself for the worst. Iclose my eyes and offer up another silent prayer, claspingboth Mia and José’s hands.Opening them again, I stare into the flames once more.I can see his shy smile—my fa一vorite of all his expressions,a glimpse of the real Christian, my real Christian. He is somany people: control freak, CEO, stalker, sex god, Dom—and at the same time—such a boy with his toys. I smile.His car, his boat, his plane . . . Charlie Tango . . . no . . .no . . . my lost boy, truly lost right now. My smile fadesand pain lances through me. I remember him in theshower, wiping away the lipstick marks.“I’m nothing, Anastasia. I’m a husk of a man. Idon’t ha一ve a heart.”The lump in my throat expands. Oh, Christian, you do,you do ha一ve a heart, and it’s mine. I want to cherish itforever. Even though he’s so complex and difficult, I loveforever. Even though he’s so complex and difficult, I lovehim. I will always love him. There will never be anyoneelse. Ever.I remember sitting in Starbucks weighing up myChristian pros and cons. All those cons, even thosephotographs I found this morning, melt into insignificancenow. There’s just him and whether he’ll come back. Ohplease, Lord, bring him back, please let him be okay.I’ll go to church . . . I’ll do anything. Oh, if I get himback, I shall seize the day. His voice echoes around myhead once more: “Carpe diem, Ana.”I gaze deeper into the fire, the flames still licking andcurling around each other, blazing brightly. Then Graceshrieks, and everything goes into slow motion.“Christian!”I turn my head in time to see Grace barreling acrossthe great room from where she had been pacingsomewhere behind me, and there in the entrance stands adismayed Christian. He’s dressed in just his shirtsleevesand suit pants, and he’s holding his na一vy jacket, shoes, andsocks. He looks tired, dirty, and utterly beautiful.Holy fuck . . . Christian. He’s alive. I gaze numbly athim, trying to work out if I’m hallucinating or if he’s reallyhere.His expression is one of utter bewilderment. Hedeposits his jacket and shoes on the floor in time to catchGrace, who throws her arms around his neck and kisseshim hard on the cheek.“Mom?”Christian gazes down at her, completely at a loss.“I thought I’d never see you again,” Grace whispers,voicing our collective fear.“Mom, I’m here.” I hear the consternation in his voice.“I died a thousand deaths today,” she whispers, hervoice barely audible, echoing my thoughts. She gasps andsobs, no longer able to hold back her tears. Christianfrowns, horrified or mortified—I don’t know which—thenafter a beat, envelops her in a huge hug, holding her close.“Oh, Christian,” she chokes, wrapping her armsaround him, weeping into his neck—all self-restraintaround him, weeping into his neck—all self-restraintforgotten—and Christian doesn’t balk. He just holds her,rocking to and fro, comforting her. Scalding tears pool inmy eyes. Carrick hollers from the hallway.“He’s alive! Shit—you’re here!” He appears fromTaylor’s office, clutching his cell phone, and embracesboth of them, his eyes closed in sweet relief.“Dad?”Mia squeals something unintelligible from beside me,then she’s up, running, joining her parents, hugging all ofthem, too.Finally the tears start to cascade down my cheeks.He’s here, he’s fine. But I cannot move.Carrick is the first to pull away, wiping his eyes andclapping Christian on the shoulder. Mia releases them andGrace steps back.“Sorry,” she mumbles.“Hey, Mom—it’s okay,” Christian says, consternationstill evident on his face.“Where were you? What happened?” Grace cries and“Where were you? What happened?” Grace cries andputs her head in her hands.“Mom,” Christian mutters. He draws her into his armsagain and kisses the top of her head. “I’m here. I’m good.It’s just taken me a hell of a long time to get back fromPortland. What’s with the welcoming committee?” Helooks up and scans the room until his eyes lock with mine.He blinks and glances briefly at José, who lets go ofmy hand. Christian’s mouth tightens. I drink in the sight ofhim and relief courses through me, lea一ving me spent,exhausted, and completely elated. Yet my tears don’tstop. Christian turns his attention back to his mother.“Mom, I’m good. What’s wrong?” Christian saysreassuringly. She places her hands on either side of hisface.“Christian, you’ve been missing. Your flight plan—younever made it to Seattle. Why didn’t you contact us?”Christian’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I didn’tthink it would take this long.”“Why didn’t you call?”“No power in my cell.”“You didn’t stop . . . call collect?”“Mom—it’s a long story.”“Oh, Christian! Don’t you ever do that to me again!Do you understand?” she half shouts at him.“Yes, Mom.” He wipes her tears away with his thumband hugs her once more. When she composes herself, hereleases her to hug Mia, who slaps him hard on the chest.“You had us so worried!” she blurts out, and she, too,is in tears.“I’m here now, for hea一ven’s sake,” Christian mutters.As Elliot comes forward, Christian relinquishes Mia toCarrick, who already has one arm around his wife. Hecurls the other around his daughter. Elliot hugs Christianbriefly, much to Christian’s surprise, and slaps him hard onthe back.“Great to see you.” Elliot says loudly, if a little gruffly,trying to hide his emotion.As the tears stream down my face, I can see it all. Thegreat room is bathed in it—unconditional love. He has it ingreat room is bathed in it—unconditional love. He has it inspades; he’s just never accepted it before, and even nowhe’s at a total loss.Look, Christian, all these people love you! Perhapsnow you’ll start believing it.Kate is standing behind me—she must ha一ve left the TVroom—and she gently strokes my hair.“He’s really here, Ana,” she murmurs comfortingly.“I’m going to say hi to my girl now,” Christian tells hisparents. Both nod, smile, and step aside.He moves toward me, gray eyes bright though wearyand still bemused. From somewhere deep inside, I find thestrength to stagger to my feet and bolt into his open arms.“Christian!” I sob.“Hush,” he says and holds me, burying his face in myhair and inhaling deeply. I raise my tear-stained face to his,and he kisses me far too briefly.“Hi,” he murmurs.“Hi,” I whisper back, the lump in the back of my throatburning.burning.“Miss me?”“A bit.”He grins. “I can tell.” And with a gentle touch of hishand, he wipes away the tears that refuse to stop runningdown my cheeks.“I thought . . . I thought—” I choke.“I can see. Hush . . . I’m here. I’m sorry. Later,” hemurmurs and kisses me chastely again.“Are you okay?” I ask, releasing him and touching hischest, his arms, his waist—oh, the feel of this warm, vital,sensual man beneath my fingers—reassures me that he’shere, standing in front of me. He’s back. He doesn’t somuch as flinch. He just regards me intently.“I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere.”“Oh, thank God,” I clasp him round his waist again,and he hugs me once more. “Are you hungry? Do youneed something to drink?”“Yes.”I step back to fetch him something, but he doesn’t letme go. He tucks me under his arm and extends a hand toJosé.“Mr. Grey,” says José evenly.Christian snorts. “Christian, please,” he says.“Christian, welcome back. Glad you’re okay . . . andum—thanks for letting me stay.”“No problem.” Christian narrows his eyes, but he’sdistracted by Mrs. Jones, who is suddenly at his side. Itonly occurs to me now that she’s not her usual smart self. Ihadn’t noticed it before. Her hair is loose, and she’s in softgray leggings and a large gray sweatshirt that dwarfsher with WSU Cougars emblazoned on the front. Shelooks years younger.“Can I get you something, Mr. Grey?” She wipes hereyes with a tissue.Christian smiles fondly at her. “A beer, please, Gail—Budvar—and a bite to eat.”“I’ll fetch it,” I murmur, wanting to do something formy man.“No. Don’t go,” he says softly, tightening his arm“No. Don’t go,” he says softly, tightening his armaround me.The rest of his family close in, and Ethan and Kate joinus. He shakes Ethan’s hand and gives Kate a quick peckon the cheek. Mrs. Jones returns with a bottle of beer anda glass. He takes the bottle but shakes his head at theglass. She smiles and returns to the kitchen.“Surprised you don’t want something stronger,”mutters Elliot. “So what the fuck happened to you? First Iknew was when Dad called me to say the chopper wasmissing.”“Elliot!” Grace scolds.“Helicopter,” Christian growls, correcting Elliot, whogrins, and I suspect this is a family joke.“Let’s sit and I’ll tell you.” Christian pulls me over tothe couch, and everyone sits down, all eyes on Christian.He takes a long draft of his beer. He spies Taylor hoveringat the entrance and nods. Taylor nods back.“Your daughter?”“She’s fine now. False alarm, sir.”“She’s fine now. False alarm, sir.”“Good.” Christian smiles.Daughter? What happened to Taylor’s daughter?“Glad you’re back, sir. Will that be all?”“We ha一ve a helicopter to collect.”Taylor nods. “Now? Or will the morning do?”“Morning, I think, Taylor.”“Very good, Mr. Grey. Anything else, sir?”Christian shakes his head and raises his bottle to him.Taylor gives him a rare smile—rarer than Christian’s, Ithink—and heads out presumably to his office or up to hisroom.“Christian, what happened?” Carrick demands.Christian launches into his story. He was flying withRos, his number two in Charlie Tango to deal with afunding issue at WSU in Vancouver. I can barely keep upI’m so dazed. I just hold Christian’s hand and stare at hismanicured fingernails, his long fingers, the creases on hisknuckles, his wristwatch—an Omega with three smalldials. I gaze up at his beautiful profile as he continues histale.“Ros had never seen Mount St. Helens, so on the wayback as a celebration, we took a quick detour. I heard theTFR was lifted a while back and I wanted to take a look.Well, it’s fortunate that we did. We were flying low, abouttwo hundred feet AGL, when the instrument panel lit up.We had a fire in the tail—I had no choice but to cut all theelectronics and land.” He shakes his head. “I set her downby Silver Lake, got Ros out, and managed to put the fireout.”“A fire? Both engines?” Carrick is horrified.“Yep.”“Shit! But I thought.”“I know,” Christian interrupts him. “It was sheer luck Iwas flying so low,” he murmurs. I shudder. He releases myhand and puts his arm around me.“Cold?” he asks me. I shake my head.“How did you put out the fire?” asks Kate, her CarlaBernstein instincts kicking in. Jeez, she sounds tersesometimes.sometimes.“Extinguisher. We ha一ve to carry them—by law.”Christian answers levelly.His words from long ago circle my mind. “I thankdivine providence every day that it was you that cameto interview me and not Katherine Ka一vanagh.”“Why didn’t you call or use the radio?” Grace asks.Christian shakes his head. “With the electronics out,we had no radio. And I wasn’t going to risk turning themon because of the fire. GPS was still working on theBlackberry, so I was able to na一vigate to the nearest road.Took us four hours to walk there. Ros was in heels.”Christian’s mouth presses into a disapproving flat line.“We had no cell reception. There’s no coverage atGifford. Ros’s battery died first. Mine dried up on theway.”Holy hell. I tense and Christian pulls me into his lap.“So how did you get back to Seattle?” Grace asks,blinking slightly at the sight of the two of us, no doub一t. Iflush.flush.“We hitched and pooled our resources. Between us,Ros and I had six hundred dollars, and we thought we’dha一ve to bribe someone to drive us back, but a truck driverstopped and agreed to bring us home. He refused themoney and shared his lunch with us.” Christian shakes hishead in dismay at the memory. “Took forever. He didn’tha一ve a cell—weird, but true. I didn’t realize.” He stops,gazing at his family.“That we’d worry?” Grace scoffs. “Oh, Christian!” shescolds him. “We’ve been going out of our minds!”“You’ve made the news, bro.”Christian rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I figured that muchwhen I arrived to this reception and the handful ofphotographers outside. I’m sorry, Mom—I should ha一veasked the driver to stop so I could phone. But I wasanxious to be back.” He glances at José.Oh, that’s why, because José is staying here. Ifrown at the thought. Jeez—all that worry.Grace shakes her head. “I’m just glad you’re back inone piece, darling.”I start to relax, resting my head against his chest. Hesmells outdoorsy, slightly sweaty, of body wash, andChristian, the most welcome scent in the world. Tears startto trickle down my face again, tears of gratitude.“Both engines?” Carrick says again, frowning indisbelief.“Go figure.” Christian shrugs and runs his hand downmy back.“Hey,” he whispers. He puts his fingers under my chinand tilts my head back. “Stop with the crying.”I wipe my nose with the back of my hand in a mostunladylike way. “Stop with the disappearing.” I sniff andhis lips quirk up.“Electrical failure . . . that’s odd, surely?” Carrick saysagain.“Yes, crossed my mind, too, Dad. But right now, I’djust like to go to bed and think about all that shittomorrow.”“So the media know that the Christian Grey has been“So the media know that the Christian Grey has beenfound safe and well?” Kate says.“Yes. Andrea and my PR people will deal with themedia. Ros called her after we dropped her home.”“Yes, Andrea called me to let me know you were stillalive.” Carrick grins.“I must give that woman a raise. Sure is late,” saysChristian.“I think that’s a hint, ladies and gentlemen, that mydear bro needs his beauty sleep,” Elliot scoffs suggestively.Christian grimaces at him.“Cary, my son is safe. You can take me home now.”Cary? Grace looks adoringly at her husband.“Yes. I think we could use the sleep,” Carrick repliessmiling down at her.“Stay,” Christian offers.“No, sweetheart, I want to get home. Now that Iknow you’re safe.”Christian reluctantly eases me onto the couch andstands. Grace hugs him once more, presses her headstands. Grace hugs him once more, presses her headagainst his chest and closes her eyes, content. He wrapshis arms around her.“I was so worried, darling,” she whispers.“I’m okay, Mom.”She leans back and studies him intently while he holdsher. “Yes. I think you are,” she says slowly, glances at me,and smiles. I flush.We follow Carrick and Grace as they make their wayto the foyer. Behind me, I’m aware that Mia and Ethan areha一ving a heated whispered conversation, but I can’t hearit.Mia is smiling shyly at Ethan, and he’s gaping at herand shaking his head. Suddenly, she folds her arms andturns on her heel. He rubs his forehead with one hand,obviously frustrated.“Mom, Dad—wait for me,” Mia calls sullenly. Perhapsshe’s as mercurial as her brother.Kate hugs me hard. “I can tell some serious shit’s beengoing down while I’ve been blissfully ignorant in Barbados.It’s kind of obvious you two are nuts about each other.I’m glad he’s safe. Not just for him, Ana—for you, too.”“Thank you, Kate,” I whisper.“Yeah. Who knew we’d find love at the same time?”She grins. Wow. She’s admitted it.“With brothers!” I giggle.“We could end up sisters-in-law,” she quips.I tense, then mentally kick myself as Kate stands backto gaze at me with her what-aren’t-you-telling-me-Steelelook. I flush. Damn, should I tell her he’s asked me?“Come on, baby,” Elliot summons her from theelevator.“Let’s talk tomorrow, Ana. You must be exhausted.”I am reprieved. “Sure. You, too, Kate—you’vetra一veled long distance today.”We hug once more, then she and Elliot follow theGreys into the elevator. Ethan shakes Christian’s hand andgives me a quick hug. He looks distracted, but he followsthem into the elevator and the doors close.José is hovering in the hallway as we come out of theJosé is hovering in the hallway as we come out of thefoyer.“Look. I’ll turn in . . . lea一ve you guys,” he says.I blush. Jeez, why is this awkward?“Do you know where to go?” Christian asks.José nods.“Yeah, the housekeeper—”“Mrs. Jones,” I prompt.“Yeah, Mrs. Jones, she showed me earlier. Quite aplace you ha一ve here, Christian.”“Thank you,” Christian says politely as he comes tostand beside me, placing his arm around my shoulders.Leaning over, he kisses my hair.“I’m going to eat whatever Mrs. Jones has put out forme. Goodnight, José.” Christian wanders back into thegreat room, lea一ving José and me at the entrance.Wow! Left alone with José.“Well, goodnight.” José looks uncomfortable all of asudden.“Goodnight, José, and thank you for staying.”“Goodnight, José, and thank you for staying.”“Sure, Ana. Any time your rich, hotshot boyfriend goesmissing—I’ll be there.”“José!” I admonish him.“Only kidding. Don’t get mad. I’ll be lea一ving early inthe morning—I’ll see you sometime, yeah? I’ve missedyou.”“Sure, José. Soon I hope. Sorry tonight was so . . .shitty.” I smirk apologetically.“Yeah.” He grins. “Shitty.” He hugs me. “Seriously,Ana, I’m glad you’re happy, but I’m here if you need me.”I gaze up at him. “Thank you.”He flashes me a sad, bittersweet smile, and then hegoes upstairs.I turn back to the great room. Christian stands besidethe couch, watching me with an unreadable expression onhis face. We’re finally alone and we gaze at each other.“He’s still got it bad, you know,” he murmurs.“And how would you know that, Mr. Grey?”“I recognize the symptoms, Miss Steele. I believe Iha一ve the same affliction.”“I thought I’d never see you again,” I whisper. There—the words are out. All my worst fears packaged neatlyin one short sentence now exorcised.“It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.”I pick up his suit jacket and shoes from where they lieon the floor and move toward him.“I’ll take that,” he whispers, reaching for his jacket.Christian gazes down at me as if I’m his reason forliving and mirrors my look, I’m sure. He is here, reallyhere. He pulls me into his arms and wraps himself aroundme.“Christian,” I gasp, and my tears start anew.“Hush,” he soothes, kissing my hair. “You know . . . inthe few seconds of sheer terror before I landed, all mythoughts were of you. You’re my talisman, Ana.”“I thought I’d lost you,” I breathe. We stand, holdingeach other, reconnecting and reassuring each other. As Itighten my arms around him, I realize I’m still holding hisshoes. I drop them noisily to the floor.shoes. I drop them noisily to the floor.“Come and shower with me,” he murmurs.“Okay.” I glance up at him. I don’t want to let go.Reaching down he tilts my chin up with his fingers.“You know even tear-stained, you are beautiful, AnaSteele.” He leans down and kisses me gently. “And yourlips are so soft.” He kisses me again, deepening it.Oh my . . . and to think, I could ha一ve lost . . . no . . .I stop thinking and surrender myself.“I need to put my jacket down,” he murmurs.“Drop it,” I murmur against his lips.“I can’t.”I lean back to gaze up at him, puzzled.He smirks at me. “This is why.” From the inside breastpocket he pulls out the small box I ga一ve him, containing mypresent. He slings the jacket over the back of the couchand places the box on top.Seize the day, Ana, my subconscious prods me. Well,it’s after midnight, so technically it’s his birthday.“Open it,” I whisper, and my heart starts pounding.“Open it,” I whisper, and my heart starts pounding.“I was hoping you’d say that,” he murmurs. “This hasbeen driving me crazy.”I grin impishly at him. Jeez, I feel giddy. He gives mehis shy smile, and I melt despite my thumping heart,delighting in his amused yet intrigued expression. With deftlong fingers, he unwraps and opens the box. His browcreases as he fishes out a small, rectangular, plastickeychain bearing a picture made up of tiny pixels that flashon and off like an LED screen. It depicts the Seattleskyline, focusing on the Space Needle, with theword SEATTLE written boldly across the landscape,flashing on and off.He stares at it for a moment and then gazes at mebemused, a frown marring his lovely brow.“Turn it over,” I whisper, holding my breath.He does, and his eyes shoot to mine, wide and gray,alive with wonder and joy. His lips part in disbelief.The word yes flashes on and off on the key ring.“Happy birthday,” I whisper. “You’ll marry me?” he whispers, incredulous.I nod nervously, flushing and anxious and not quitebelieving his reaction—this man whom I thought I’d lost.How could he not understand how much I love him?“Say it,” he orders softly, his gaze intense and hot.“Yes, I’ll marry you.”He inhales sharply and moves suddenly, grabbing meand swinging me round in a most un-Fiftylike manner. He’slaughing, young and carefree, radiating joyful elation. Igrab his arms to hold on, feeling his muscles ripple beneathgrab his arms to hold on, feeling his muscles ripple beneathmy fingers, and his infectious laughter sweeps me up—dizzy, addled, a girl totally and utterly smitten with herbeautiful man. He puts me down and kisses me. Hard. Hishands are on either side of my face, his tongue insistent,persuasive . . . arousing.“Oh, Ana,” he breathes against my lips, and it’s anexultation that lea一ves me reeling. He loves me, of that Iha一ve no doub一t, and I sa一vor the taste of this delicious man,this man I thought I might never see again. His joy isevident—his eyes shining, his youthful smile—and his reliefis almost palpable.“I thought I’d lost you,” I murmur, still dazzled andbreathless from his kiss.“Baby, it will take more than a malfunctioning 135 tokeep me away from you.”“135?”“Charlie Tango. She’s a Eurocopter 135, the safest inits class.” Some unnamed but dark emotion crosses hisface briefly, distracting me. What isn’t he saying? Before Iface briefly, distracting me. What isn’t he saying? Before Ican ask him, he stills and looks down at me, frowning, andfor a moment I think he’s going to tell me. I blink up intohis speculative gray eyes.“Wait a minute. You ga一ve this to me before we sawFlynn,” he says, holding up the keychain. He looks almosthorrified.Oh dear, where’s he going with this? I nod, keeping astraight face.His mouth drops open.I shrug apologetically. “I wanted you to know thatwhatever Flynn said, it wouldn’t make a difference to me.”Christian blinks at me in disbelief. “So all yesterdayevening, when I was begging you for an answer, I had italready?” He’s dismayed. I nod again, trying desperatelyto gauge his reaction. He gazes at me in stupefied wonder,but then narrows his eyes and his mouth twists withamused irony.“All that worry,” he whispers ominously. I grin at himand shrug once more. “Oh, don’t try and get cute with me,Miss Steele. Right now, I want . . .” He runs his handthrough his hair, then shakes his head and changes tack.“I can’t believe you left me hanging.” His whisper islaced with disbelief. His expression alters sub一tly, his eyesgleaming wickedly, his mouth twitching into a carnal smile.Holy hell. A thrill runs through me. What’s he thinking?“I believe some retribution is in order, Miss Steele,” hesays softly.Retribution? Oh shit! I know he’s playing—but I takea cautious step back from him anyway.He grins. “Is that the game?” he whispers. “Because Iwill catch you.” And his eyes burn with a bright playfulintensity. “And you’re biting your lip,” he saysthreateningly.All of my insides tighten at once. Oh my. My futurehusband wants to play. I take another step back, then turnto run—but in vain. Christian grabs me, and in one easyswoop while I squeal with delight, surprise, and shock. Hehoists me over his shoulder and heads down the hall.“Christian!” I hiss, mindful that José is upstairs, though“Christian!” I hiss, mindful that José is upstairs, thoughwhether he could hear us is doub一tful. I steady myself byclasping his lower back, then on a bra一ve impulse, I swathis behind. He swats me right back.“Ow!” I yelp.“Shower time,” he declares triumphantly.“Put me down!” I try and fail to sound disapproving.My struggle is futile—his arm is firmly clamped over mythighs—and for some reason I cannot stop giggling.“Fond of these shoes?” he asks amused as he opensthe door to his bathroom.“I prefer them to be touching the floor.” I attempt tosnarl at him, but it’s not very effective as I can’t keep thelaughter out of my voice.“Your wish is my command, Miss Steele.” Withoutputting me down, he slips off both of my shoes and letsthem clatter to the tile floor. Pausing by the vanity, heempties his pockets—dead Blackberry, keys, wallet, thekeychain. I can only imagine what I look like in the mirrorfrom this angle. When he’s finished, he marches directlyfrom this angle. When he’s finished, he marches directlyinto his overlarge shower.“Christian!” I scold loudly—his intent is now clear.He switches the water on at max. Jeez! Arctic waterspurts over my backside, and I squeal—then stop, mindfulonce more that José is above us. It’s cold and I’m fullyclothed. The chilling water soaks into my dress, mypanties, and my bra. I’m drenched and I cannot stopgiggling.“No!” I squeal. “Put me down!” I swat him again,harder this time, and Christian releases me, letting me slidedown his now soaked body. His white shirt is stuck to hischest and his suit pants are sodden. I am soaked, too,flushed, giddy and breathless, and he’s grinning down atme, looking so . . . so unbelievably hot.He sobers, his eyes shining, and cups my face again,drawing my lips to his. His kiss is gentle, cherishing, andtotally distracting. I no longer care that I am fully clothedand soaking wet in Christian’s shower. It’s just the two ofus beneath the cascading water. He’s back, he’s safe, he’smine.My hands move involuntarily to his shirt as it clings toevery line and sinew of his chest, revealing the hairscrunched beneath the white wetness. I yank the shirt hemout of his pants, and he groans against my mouth, but hislips do not lea一ve mine. As I unbutton his shirt, he reachesfor my zipper, slowly sliding the clasp down my dress. Hislips become more insistent, more provocative, his tongueinvading my mouth—and my body explodes with desire. Itug his shirt hard, ripping it open. The buttons flyeverywhere, ricocheting off the tiles and disappearing ontothe shower floor. As I strip the wet material off hisshoulders and down his arms, I press him into the wall,hampering his attempts to undress me. “Cufflinks,” hemurmurs, holding up his wrists where his shirt hangssodden and limp.With scrambling fingers, I release first one and then theother cuff, letting his gold cufflinks fall carelessly to the tiledfloor and his shirt follows. His eyes search mine throughthe cascading water, his gaze burning, carnal, heated likethe cascading water, his gaze burning, carnal, heated likethe water. I reach for the waistband of his pants, but heshakes his head and grabs my shoulders, spinning meround so I am facing away from him. He finishes the longjourney south with my zipper, smoothes my wet hair awayfrom my neck, and runs his tongue up my neck to myhairline and back again, kissing and sucking as he goes.I moan and slowly he peels my dress off my shouldersand down past my breasts, kissing my neck beneath myear. He unclasps my bra and pushes it off my shoulders,freeing my breasts. His hands reach around and cup eachone as he murmurs his appreciation in my ear.“So beautiful,” he whispers.My arms are trapped by my bra and dress, which hangunfastened below my breasts, my arms still in the sleevesbut my hands are free. I roll my head, giving Christianbetter access to my neck and push my breasts into hismagical hands. I reach round behind me and welcome hissharp intake of breath as my inquisitive fingers makecontact with his erection. He pushes his groin into mycontact with his erection. He pushes his groin into mywelcoming hands. Dammit, why didn’t he let me take hispants off?He tugs on my nipples, and as they harden and stretchunder his expert touch, all thoughts of his pants disappearand pleasure spikes sharp and libidinous in my belly. I leanmy head back against him and groan.“Yes,” he breathes and turns me once more, capturingmy mouth with his. He peels my bra, dress and pantiesdown so they join his shirt in a soggy heap on the showerfloor.I grab the body wash beside us. Christian stills as herealizes what I am about to do. Staring him straight in theeye, I squirt some of the sweet-smelling gel into my palmand hold my hand up in front of his chest, waiting for ananswer to my unspoken question. His eyes widen, then hegives me an almost imperceptible nod.Gently I place my hand on his sternum and start to rubthe soap into his skin. His chest rises as he inhales sharply,but he stands stock-still. After a beat, his hands clasp myhips, but he doesn’t push me away. He watches me warily,his look intense more than scared, but his lips are partedas his breathing increases.“Is this okay?” I whisper.“Yes.” His short, breathy reply is almost a gasp. I amreminded of the many showers we’ve had together, but theone at the Olympic is a bittersweet memory. Well, now Ican touch him. I wash him using gentle circles, cleaning myman, moving to his underarms, over his ribs, down his flatfirm belly, toward his happy trail, and the waistband of hispants.“My turn,” he whispers and reaches for the shampoo,shifting us out of range of the stream of water and squirtingsome on to the top of my head.I think this is my cue to stop washing him, so I hookmy fingers into his waistband. He works the shampoo intomy hair, his firm, long fingers massaging my scalp.Groaning in appreciation, I close my eyes and give myselfover to the hea一venly sensation. After all the stress of theevening, this is just what I need.evening, this is just what I need.He chuckles and I open one eye to find him smilingdown at me. “You like?”“Hmm . . .”He grins. “Me, too,” he says and leans over to kiss myforehead, his fingers continuing their sweet, firm kneadingof my scalp.“Turn round,” he says authoritatively. I do as I’m told,and his fingers slowly work over my head, cleansing,relaxing, loving me as they go. Oh, this is bliss. He reachesfor more shampoo and gently washes the long tressesdown my back. When he’s finished, he pulls me backunder the shower.“Lean your head back,” he orders quietly.I willingly comply, and he carefully rinses out the suds.When he’s done, I face him once more and make abeeline for his pants.“I want to wash all of you,”I whisper. He smiles that lopsided smile and lifts hishands in a gesture that says “I’m all yours, baby.” I grin; ithands in a gesture that says “I’m all yours, baby.” I grin; itfeels like Christmas. I make short work of his zipper, andsoon his pants and boxers join the rest of our clothing. Istand and reach for the body wash and the freshwatersponge.“Looks like you’re pleased to see me,” I murmurdryly.“I’m always pleased to see you, Miss Steele.” Hesmirks at me.I soap the sponge, then retrace my journey over hischest. He’s more relaxed—maybe because I’m notactually touching him. I head south with the sponge, acrosshis belly, along the happy trail, through his pubic hair, andover and up his erection.I peek up at him, and he regards me with hooded eyesand sensual longing. Hmm . . . I like this look. I drop thesponge and use my hands, grasping him firmly. He closeshis eyes, tips his head back, and groans, thrusting his hipsinto my hands.Oh yes! It’s so arousing. My inner goddess hasresurfaced after her evening of rocking and weeping in thecorner, and she’s wearing harlot-red lipstick.His burning eyes suddenly lock with mine. He’sremembered something.“It’s Saturday,” he exclaims, eyes alight with salaciouswonder, and he grasps my waist, pulling me to him andkissing me sa一vagely.Whoa—change of pace!His hands sweep down my slick, wet body, round tomy sex, his fingers exploring, teasing, and his mouth isrelentless, lea一ving me breathless. His other hand is in mywet hair, holding me in place while I bear the full force ofhis passion unleashed. His fingers move inside me.“Ahh,” I moan into his mouth.“Yes,” he hisses and lifts me, his hands beneath mybackside. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.” My legsfold around him, and I cling like a limpet to his neck. Hebraces me against the wall of the shower and pauses,gazing down at me.“Eyes open,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”“Eyes open,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”I blink up at him, my heart hammering, my bloodpulsing hot and hea一vy through my body, desire, real andrampant surging through me. Then he eases into me oh-soslowly,filling me, claiming me, skin against skin. I pushdown against him and groan loudly. Once fully inside me,he pauses once more, his face strained, intense.“You are mine, Anastasia,” he whispers.“Always.”He smiles victoriously and shifts, making me gasp.“And now we can let everyone know, because yousaid yes.” His voice is reverential, and he leans down,capturing my mouth with his, and starts to move . . . slowand sweet. I close my eyes and tilt my head back as mybody bows, my will submitting to his, sla一ve to hisintoxicating slow rhythm.His teeth graze my jaw, my chin, and down my neck ashe picks up the pace, pushing me onward, upward—awayfrom this earthly plane, the teeming shower, the evening’schilling fright. It’s just me and my man moving in unison,chilling fright. It’s just me and my man moving in unison,moving as one—each completely absorbed in the other—our gasps and grunts mingling. I revel in the exquisitefeeling of his possession as my body blooms and flowersaround him.I could ha一ve lost him . . . and I love him . . . I lovehim so much, and I’m suddenly overcome by the enormityof my love and the depth of my commitment to him. I willspend the rest of my life loving this man, and with thatawe-inspiring thought, I detonate around him—a healing,cathartic orgasm, crying out his name as tears flow downmy cheeks.He reaches his climax and pours himself into me. Withhis face buried in my neck, he sinks to the floor, holdingme tightly, kissing my face, and kissing away my tears asthe warm water spills down around us, washing us clean.“My fingers are pruny,” I murmur, postcoital and sated asI lean against his chest. He raises my fingers to his lips andI lean against his chest. He raises my fingers to his lips andkisses each in turn.“We should really get out of this shower.”“I’m comfortable here.” I’m sitting between his legsand he’s holding me close. I don’t want to move.Christian murmurs his assent. But suddenly I’m bonetired, world-weary. So much has happened this last week—enough for a lifetime of drama—and now I’mgetting married. A disbelieving giggle escapes my lips.“Something amusing you, Miss Steele?” he asksfondly.“It’s been a busy week.”He grins. “That it has.”“I thank God you’re back in one piece, Mr. Grey,” Iwhisper, sobering at the thought of what might ha一ve been.He tenses and I immediately regret reminding him.“I was scared,” he confesses much to my surprise.“Earlier?”He nods, his expression serious.Holy shit. “So you made light of it to reassure yourfamily?”“Yes. I was too low to land well. But somehow I did.”Crap. My eyes sweep up to his, and he looks gra一ve asthe water cascades over us. “How close a call was it?” Hegazes down at me.“Close,” he pauses. “For a few awful seconds, Ithought I’d never see you again.”I hug him tightly. “I can’t imagine my life without you,Christian. I love you so much it frightens me.”“Me, too,” he breathes. “My life would be emptywithout you. I love you so much.” His arms tighten aroundme and he nuzzles my hair. “I won’t ever let you go.”“I don’t want to go, ever.” I kiss his neck, and he leansdown and kisses me gently.After a moment, he shifts. “Come—let’s get you dryand into bed. I’m exhausted and you look beat.”I lean back and arch an eyebrow at his choice ofwords. He cocks his head to one side and smirks at me.“You ha一ve something to say, Miss Steele?”I shake my head and clamber unsteadily to my feet.I shake my head and clamber unsteadily to my feet.I am sitting up in bed. Christian insisted on drying my hair—he’s quite skilled at it. How that happened is anunpleasant thought, so I dismiss it immediately. It’s aftertwo in the morning, and I am ready to sleep. Christiangazes down at me and reexamines the keychain beforeclimbing into bed. He shakes his head, incredulous oncemore.“This is so neat. The best birthday present I’ve everhad.” He glances at me, his eyes soft and warm. “Betterthan my signed Guiseppe DeNatale poster.”“I would ha一ve told you earlier, but as it was yourbirthday . . . What do you give the man who haseverything? I thought I’d give you . . . me.”He puts the keychain down on the bedside table andsnuggles in beside me, pulling me into his arms against hischest so that we’re spooning.“It’s perfect. Like you.”“It’s perfect. Like you.”I smirk, though he can’t see my expression. “I am farfrom perfect, Christian.”“Are you smirking at me, Miss Steele?”How does he know? “Maybe.” I giggle. “Can I askyou something?“Of course,” he nuzzles my neck.“You didn’t call on your trip back from Portland. Wasthat really because of José? You were worried about mebeing here alone with him?”Christian says nothing. I turn to face him, and his eyesare wide as I reproach him.“Do you know how ridiculous that is? How muchstress you put your family and me through? We all loveyou very much.”He blinks a couple of times and then gives me his shysmile. “I had no idea you’d all be so worried.”I purse my lips. “When are you going to get it throughyour thick skull that you are loved?”“Thick skull?” His eyebrows widen in surprise.I nod. “Yes. Thick skull.”“I don’t think the bone density of my head issignificantly higher than anywhere else in my body.”“I’m serious! Stop trying to make me laugh. I am still alittle mad at you, though that’s partially eclipsed by the factthat you’re home safe and sound when I thought . . .” Myvoice fades as I recall those anxious few hours. “Well, youknow what I thought.”His eyes soften and he reaches up to caress my face.“I’m sorry. Okay.”“Your poor mom, too. It was very moving, seeing youwith her,” I whisper.He smiles shyly. “I’ve never seen her that way.” Heblinks at the memory. “Yes, that was really something.She’s normally so self-possessed. It was quite a shock.”“See? Everyone loves you.” I smile. “Perhaps nowyou’ll start believing it.” I lean down and kiss him gently.“Happy birthday, Christian. I’m glad you’re here toshare your day with me. And you ha一ven’t seen what I’vegot for you tomorrow um . . . today.” I smirk.got for you tomorrow um . . . today.” I smirk.“There’s more?” he says, astounded, and his faceerupts into a breathtaking grin.“Oh yes, Mr. Grey, but you’ll ha一ve to wait until then.”I wake suddenly from a dream or nightmare, and my pulseis thumping. I turn, panicked, and to my relief, Christian isfast asleep beside me. Because I’ve shifted, he stirs andreaches out in his sleep, draping his arm over me, and restshis head on my shoulder, sighing softly.The room is flooded with light. It’s eight o’clock.Christian never sleeps this late. I lie back and let my racingheart calm. Why the anxiety? Is it the aftermath of lastnight?I turn and stare at him. He’s here. He’s safe. I take adeep steadying breath and gaze at his lovely face. A facethat is now so familiar, all its dips and shadows eternallyetched on my mind.He looks much younger when he’s asleep, and I grinHe looks much younger when he’s asleep, and I grinbecause today he’s a whole year older. I hug myself,thinking about my present. Oooh . . . what will he do?Perhaps I should start by bringing him breakfast in bed.Besides, José may still be here.I find José at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal. Ican’t help but flush when I see him. He knows I’ve spentthe night with Christian. Why do I suddenly feel so shy?It’s not as if I’m naked or anything. I’m wearing my silkfloor-length wrap.“Morning, José,” I smile, brazening it out.“Hey, Ana!” His face lights up, genuinely pleased tosee me. There’s no hint of teasing or salacious contempt inhis expression.“Sleep well?” I ask.“Sure. Some view from up here.”“Yeah. It’s pretty special.” Like the owner of thisapartment. “Want a real man’s breakfast?” I tease.“Love some.”“It’s Christian’s birthday today—I’m making himbreakfast in bed.”“He awake?”“No, I think he’s fried from yesterday.” I quicklyglance away from him and head to the fridge so he can’tsee my blush. Jeez, it’s only José. When I take the eggsand bacon out of the fridge, José is grinning at me.“You really like him, don’t you?”I purse my lips. “I love him, José.”His eyes widen momentarily then he grins. “What’s notto love?” he asks gesturing round the great room.I scowl at him. “Gee, thanks!”“Hey, Ana, just kidding.”Hmm . . . will I always ha一ve this leveled at me? ThatI’m marrying Christian for his money?“Seriously, I’m kidding. You’ve never been that kindof girl.”“Omelet good for you?” I ask, changing the subject. Idon’t want to argue.“Sure.”“And me,” Christian says as he saunters into the great“And me,” Christian says as he saunters into the greatroom. Holy fuck, he’s wearing only pajama bottoms thathang in that totally hot way off his hips—Jeez!“José.” He nods.“Christian.” José returns his nod solemnly.Christian turns to me and smirks as I stare. He’s donethis on purpose. I narrow my eyes at him, desperatelytrying to recover my equilibrium, and Christian’sexpression alters sub一tly. He knows that I know what he’sup to, and he doesn’t care.“I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.”Swaggering over, he wraps his arm around me, tilts mychin up, and plants a loud wet kiss on my lips. VeryunFifty!“Good morning, Anastasia,” he says. I want to scowlat him and tell him to beha一ve—but it’s his birthday. I flush.Why is he so territorial?“Good morning, Christian. Happy birthday.” I give hima smile, and he smirks at me.“I’m looking forward to my other present,” he says“I’m looking forward to my other present,” he saysand that’s it. I flush the color of the Red Room of Pain andglance nervously at José, who looks like he’s swallowedsomething unpleasant. I turn away and start preparing thefood.“So what are your plans today, José?” Christian asks,seemingly casual as he sits down on a barstool.“I’m heading up to see my dad and Ray, Ana’s dad.”Christian frowns.“They know each other?”“Yeah, they were in the army together. They lostcontact until Ana and I were in college together. It’s kindacute. They’re best buds now. We’re going on a fishingtrip.”“Fishing?” Christian is genuinely interested.“Yeah—some great catches in these coastal waters.The steelheads can grow way big.”“True. My brother Elliot and I landed a thirty-fourpound steelhead once.”They’re talking fishing? What is it about fishing? I ha一venever understood it.