Fifty Shades Trilogy Bundle: Fifty Shades of Grey; Fifty Shades Darker; Fifty Shades Freed (52 page)

“I thought I’d surprise you. But as ever, Anastasia, you surprise me by being here.”

I glance quickly at Mom, who is staring at Christian … yes staring!
Stop it, Mom
. As if he’s some exotic creature, never seen before. I mean, I know I’ve never had a boyfriend, and Christian only qualifies as such for ease of reference—but is it so unbelievable that I could attract a man?
This man? Yes, frankly—look at him!
my subconscious snaps. Oh, shut up! Who invited you to the party? I scowl at my mom—but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“I don’t want to interrupt the time you have with your mother. I’ll have a quick drink and then retire. I have work to do,” he states earnestly.

“Christian, it’s lovely to meet you finally,” Mom interjects, finally finding her voice. “Ana has spoken very fondly of you.”

He smiles at her. “Really?” He raises an eyebrow at me, an amused expression on his face, and I flush again.

The waiter arrives with our drinks.

“Hendricks, sir,” he says with a triumphant flourish.

“Thank you,” Christian murmurs in acknowledgment.

I sip my latest Cosmo nervously.

“How long are you in Georgia, Christian?” Mom asks.

“Until Friday, Mrs. Adams.”

“Will you have dinner with us tomorrow evening? And please, call me Carla.”

“I’d be delighted to, Carla.”

“Excellent. If you two will excuse me, I need to visit the restroom.”

Mom … you’ve just been
. I look at her desperately as she stands and walks off, leaving us alone together.

“So, you’re mad at me for having dinner with an old friend.” Christian turns his burning, wary gaze to me, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing each knuckle gently.

Jeez, he wants to do this now?

“Yes,” I murmur as my heated blood courses through me.

“Our sexual relationship was over long ago, Anastasia,” he whispers. “I don’t want anyone but you. Haven’t you worked that out yet?”

I blink at him. “I think of her as a child molester, Christian.” I hold my breath waiting for his reaction.

Christian blanches. “That’s very judgmental. It wasn’t like that,” he whispers, shocked. He releases my hand.

Judgmental?

“Oh, how was it then?” I ask. The Cosmos are making me brave.

He frowns at me, bewildered. I continue. “She took advantage
of a vulnerable fifteen-year-old boy. If you had been a fifteen-year-old girl and Mrs. Robinson was a Mr. Robinson, tempting you into a BDSM lifestyle, that would have been okay? If it was Mia, say?”

He gasps and scowls at me. “Ana, it wasn’t like that.”

I glare at him.

“Okay, it didn’t feel like that to me,” he continues quietly. “She was a force for good. What I needed.”

“I don’t understand.” It’s my turn to look bewildered.

“Anastasia, your mother will be back shortly. I’m not comfortable talking about this now. Later, maybe. If you don’t want me here, I have a plane on standby at Hilton Head. I can go.”

He’s angry with me … no
.

“No—don’t go. Please. I’m thrilled you’re here. I’m just trying to make you understand. I’m angry that as soon as I left, you had dinner with her. Think about how you are when I get anywhere near José. José is a good friend. I have never had a sexual relationship with him. Whereas you and her …” I trail off, unwilling to take that thought further.

“You’re jealous?” He stares at me, dumbfounded, and his eyes soften slightly, warming.

“Yes, and angry about what she did to you.”

“Anastasia, she helped me. That’s all I’ll say about that. And as for your jealousy, put yourself in my shoes. I haven’t had to justify my actions to anyone in the last seven years. Not one person. I do as I wish, Anastasia. I like my autonomy. I didn’t go and see Mrs. Robinson to upset you. I went because every now and then we have dinner. She’s a friend and a business partner.”

Business partner? Holy crap. This is news
.

He gazes at me, assessing my expression. “Yes, we’re business partners. The sex is over between us. It has been for years.”

“Why did your relationship end?”

His mouth narrows and his eyes gleam. “Her husband found out.”

Holy shit!

“Can we talk about this some other time—somewhere more private?” he growls.

“I don’t think you’ll ever convince me that she’s not some kind of pedophile.”

“I don’t think of her that way. I never have. Now that’s enough!” he snaps.

“Did you love her?”

“How are you two getting on?” My mother has returned, unseen by either of us.

I plaster a fake smile on my face as both Christian and I lean back hastily … guiltily. She gazes at me.

“Fine, Mom.”

Christian sips his drink, watching me closely, his expression guarded. What is he thinking? Did he love her? I think if he did, I will lose it, big time.

“Well, ladies, I shall leave you to your evening.”

No … no … he can’t leave me hanging like this
.

“Please, put these drinks on my tab, room number 612. I’ll call you in the morning, Anastasia. Until tomorrow, Carla.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to hear someone use your full name.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” Christian murmurs, shaking her outstretched hand, and she actually simpers.

Oh, Mom—et tu, Brute?
I stand, gazing up at him, imploring him to answer my question, and he kisses my cheek chastely.

“Laters, baby,” he whispers in my ear. Then he’s gone.

Damned control freak bastard
. My anger returns in full force. I slump into my chair and turn to face my mother.

“Well, strike me down with a feather, Ana. He’s a catch. I don’t know what’s going on between you two though. I think you need to talk to each other. Phew—the UST in here, it’s unbearable.” She fans herself theatrically.

“MOM!”

“Go talk to him.”

“I can’t. I came here to see you.”

“Ana, you came here because you’re confused about that boy.
It’s obvious you two are crazy about each other. You need to talk to him. He’s just flown three-thousand-odd miles to see you, for heaven’s sake. And you know how awful it is to fly.”

I flush. I haven’t told her about his private plane.

“What?” she snaps.

“He has his own plane,” I mumble, embarrassed, “and it’s only two and a half thousand miles, Mom.”

Why am I embarrassed?
Her eyebrows shoot up.

“Wow,” she mutters. “Ana, there’s something going on between you two. I’ve been trying to fathom it since you arrived here. But the only way you are going to sort the problem, whatever it is, is to talk it through with him. You can do all the thinking you like—but until you actually talk, you’re not going to get anywhere.”

I frown at my mother.

“Ana, honey, you’ve always had a tendency to overanalyze everything. Go with your gut. What does that tell you, sweetheart?”

I stare at my fingers.

“I think I’m in love with him,” I mutter.

“I know darling. And he with you.”

“No!”

“Yes, Ana. Hell—what do you need? A neon sign flashing on his forehead?”

I gape at her and tears prick the corner of my eyes.

“Ana, darling. Don’t cry.”

“I don’t think he loves me.”

“I don’t care how rich you are, you don’t drop everything and get in your private plane to cross a whole continent just for afternoon tea. Go to him! This is a beautiful location, very romantic. It’s also neutral territory.”

I squirm under her gaze. I want to go and I don’t.

“Darling, don’t feel you have to come back with me. I want you happy—and right now I think the key to your happiness is upstairs in room 612. If you need to come home later, the key is under the yucca plant on the front porch. If you stay—well … you’re a big girl now. Just be safe.”

I flush Stars and Stripes red.
Jeez, Mom
.

“Let’s finish our Cosmos first.”

“That’s my girl, Ana.” She grins.

I KNOCK TIMIDLY ON
room 612 and wait. Christian opens the door. He’s on his cell. He blinks at me in complete surprise, then holds the door open wide and beckons me into his room.

“All the redundancy packages concluded? … And the cost? …” Christian whistles between his teeth. “Sheesh … that was one expensive mistake … And Lucas? …”

I glance around the room. He’s in a suite, like the one at the Heathman. The furnishings here are ultramodern, very now. All muted dark purples and golds with bronze starbursts on the walls. Christian walks over to a dark wood unit and pulls open a door to reveal a minibar. He indicates that I should help myself, then wanders into the bedroom. I assume it’s so I can no longer hear his conversation. I shrug. He didn’t stop his call when I entered his study that time. I hear water running … he’s filling a bath. I help myself to an orange juice. He ambles back into the room.

“Have Andrea send me the schematics. Barney said he’d cracked the problem …” Christian laughs. “No, Friday … There’s a plot of land here that I’m interested in … Yeah, get Bill to call … No, tomorrow … I want to see what Georgia will offer if we move in.” Christian doesn’t take his eyes off me. Handing me a glass, he points to an ice bucket.

“If their incentives are attractive enough … I think we should consider it, though I’m not sure about the damned heat here … I agree, Detroit has its advantages, too, and it’s cooler …” His face darkens momentarily.
Why?
“Get Bill to call. Tomorrow … Not too early.” He hangs up and stares at me, his face unreadable, and the silence stretches between us.

Okay … my turn to talk.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I murmur.

“No. I didn’t,” he says quietly, his gray eyes wide and cautious.

“No, you didn’t answer my question, or no, you didn’t love her?”

He folds his arms and leans against the wall, and a small smile plays upon his lips.

“What are you doing here, Anastasia?”

“I’ve just told you.”

He takes a deep breath.

“No. I didn’t love her.” He frowns at me, amused yet puzzled.

I can’t believe I’m holding my breath. I sag like an old cloth sack as I release it.
Well, thank heavens for that
. How would I feel if he actually loved the witch?

“You’re quite the green-eyed goddess, Anastasia. Who would have thought?”

“Are you making fun of me, Mr. Grey?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He shakes his head solemnly, but he has a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Oh, I think you would, and I think you do—often.”

He smirks as I give him back the words he’s said to me before. His eyes darken.

“Please stop biting your lip. You’re in my room, I haven’t set eyes on you for nearly three days, and I’ve flown a long way to see you.” His tone has changed to soft, sensual.

His BlackBerry buzzes, distracting us both, and he switches it off without glancing to see who it is. My breath hitches. I know where this is going … 
but we’re supposed to talk
. He takes a step toward me wearing his sexy predatory look.

“I want you, Anastasia. Now. And you want me. That’s why you’re here.”

“I really did want to know,” I whisper as a defense.

“Well, now that you do, are you coming or going?”

I flush as he comes to a halt in front of me.

“Coming,” I murmur, staring anxiously up at him.

“Oh, I hope so.” He gazes down at me. “You were so mad at me,” he breathes.

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember anyone but my family ever being mad at me. I like it.”

He runs the tips of fingers down my cheek.
Oh my
, his proximity, his delicious Christian smell. We’re supposed to be talking, but my heart is pounding, my blood singing as it courses through my body, desire pooling, unfurling … everywhere. Christian bends and runs his nose along my shoulder and up to the base of my ear, his fingers slipping into my hair.

“We should talk,” I whisper.

“Later.”

“There’s so much I want to say.”

“Me, too.”

He plants a soft kiss under my earlobe while his fingers tighten in my hair. Pulling my head back, he exposes my throat to his lips. His teeth skim my chin, and he kisses my throat.

“I want you,” he breathes.

I moan and reach up and grasp his arms.

“Are you bleeding?” He continues to kiss me.

Holy fuck
. Does nothing slip by him?

“Yes,” I whisper, embarrassed.

“Do you have cramps?”

“No.” I flush.
Jeez …

He stops and looks down at me.

“Did you take your pill?”

“Yes.” How mortifying is this?

“Let’s go have a bath.”

Oh?

He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom. It’s dominated by a super-king-sized bed with elaborate drapes. But we don’t stop there. He takes me into the bathroom, which is two rooms, all aquamarines and white limestone. It’s huge. In the second room a sunken bath, big enough for four people with stone steps that lead into it, is slowly filling with water. Steam rises gently above the foam, and I notice a stone bench that runs all the way around the bath. Candles flicker to the side. Wow … he’s done all this while on the phone.

“Do you have a hair tie?”

I blink at him, fish into my jeans pocket, and pull out a hair elastic.

“Put your hair up,” he orders softly. I do as he asks.

It’s warm and sultry beside the bath, and my camisole starts to stick. He leans over and shuts off the faucet. Leading me back into the first part of the bathroom, he stands behind me as we face the wall-sized mirror above the two glass sinks.

“Take your sandals off,” he murmurs and I oblige quickly dropping them to the sandstone floor.

“Lift up your arms,” he breathes. I do as I’m told, and he lifts my camisole over my head so that I’m topless standing in front of him. Not taking his eyes off mine, he reaches around and undoes the top button on my jeans and the zipper.

“I’m going to have you in the bathroom, Anastasia.”

Leaning down, he kisses my neck. I move my head to one side to give him easier access. Hooking his thumbs into my jeans, he slowly slides them down my legs, sinking down behind me as he pulls them and my panties to the floor.