Part II 20

“I wish that, too.” I shake my head thinking about mymythical father. “Mom, I’ll let you go. I’ll call soon.”“Love you, darling.”“Me, too, Mom. Good-bye.”Christian’s kitchen is a dream to work in. For a man whoknows nothing about cooking, he seems to ha一veeverything. I suspect Mrs. Jones loves to cook, too. Theonly thing I need is some high quality chocolate for thefrosting. I lea一ve the two halves of the cake on a coolingrack, grab my purse, and pop my head around Christian’sstudy door. He’s concentrating on his computer screen.He looks up and smiles at me.“I’m just heading to the store to pick up someingredients.”“Okay.” He frowns at me.“What?”“You going to put some jeans on or something?”Oh, come on. “Christian, they’re just legs.”He gazes at me, unamused. This is going to be a fight.And it’s his birthday. I roll my eyes at him, feeling like anerrant teenager.“What if we were at the beach?” I take a differenttack.“We’re not at the beach.”“Would you object if we were at the beach?”“Would you object if we were at the beach?”He considers this for a moment. “No,” he says simply.I roll my eyes again and smirk at him. “Well, justimagine we are. Laters.” I turn and bolt for the foyer. Imake it to the elevator before he catches up with me. Asthe doors close, I wa一ve at him, grinning sweetly as hewatches, helpless—but fortunately amused—withnarrowed eyes. He shakes his head in exasperation, then Ican see him no more.Oh, that was exciting. Adrenaline is pounding throughmy veins, and my heart feels like it wants to exit my chest.But as the elevator descends, so do my spirits. Shit, whatha一ve I done?I ha一ve a tiger by the tail. He’s going to be mad when Iget back. My subconscious is glaring at me over her halfmoonglasses, a willow switch in her hand. Shit. I thinkabout what little experience I ha一ve with men. I’ve neverlived with a man before—well, except Ray—and for somereason he doesn’t count. He’s my dad . . . well, the man Iconsider my dad.And now I ha一ve Christian. He’s never really lived withanyone, I think. I’ll ha一ve to ask him—if he’s still talking tome.But I feel strongly that I should wear what I like. Iremember his rules. Yes, this must be hard for him, but hesure as hell paid for this dress. He should ha一ve givenNeimans a better brief. Nothing too short!This skirt isn’t that short, is it? I check in the largemirror in the lobby. Damn. Yes, it is quite short, but I’vemade a stand now. And no doub一t I’ll ha一ve to face theconsequences. I wonder idly what he’ll do, but first I needcash.I stare at my receipt from the ATM: $51,689.16. That’sfifty thousand dollars too much! Anastasia, you’re goingto ha一ve to learn to be rich, too, if you say yes. And so itbegins. I take my paltry fifty dollars and make my way tothe store.I head straight to the kitchen when I arrive back, and Ican’t help feeling a frisson of alarm. Christian is still in hisstudy. Jeez, that’s most of the afternoon. I decide my bestoption is to face him and see how much damage I’vedone. I peek cautiously around his study door. He’s on thephone, staring out the window.“And the Eurocopter specialist is due Mondayafternoon? . . . Good. Just keep me informed. Tell themthat I’ll need their initial findings either Monday evening orTuesday morning.” He hangs up and swivels his chairround, but stills when he sees me, his expressionimpassive.“Hi,” I whisper. He says nothing, and my heart freefallsinto my stomach. Gingerly I walk into his study andaround his desk to where he’s sitting. He still says nothing,his eyes never lea一ving mine. I stand in front of him, feelingfifty shades of foolish.fifty shades of foolish.“I’m back. Are you mad at me?”He sighs, reaches out for my hand, and pulls me intohis lap, folding his arms around me. He buries his nose inmy hair.“Yes,” he says.“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I curlup in his lap inhaling his hea一venly Christian smell, feelingsafe regardless of the fact that he’s mad.“Me neither. Wear what you like,” he murmurs. Heruns his hand up my bare leg to my thigh. “Besides, thisdress has its advantages.” He bends to kiss me, and as ourlips touch, passion or lust or a deep-seated need to makeamends lances through me and desire flares in my blood. Iseize his head in my hands, fisting my fingers in his hair. Hegroans as his body responds, and he hungrily nips at mylower lip—my throat, my ear, his tongue invading mymouth, and before I’m even aware of it he’s unzipping hispants, pulling me astride his lap, and sinking into me. Igrasp the back of the chair, my feet just touching theground . . . and we start to move.“I like your version of sorry,” he breathes into my hair.“And I like yours,” I giggle, snuggling against his chest.“Ha一ve you finished?”“Christ, Ana, you want more?”“No! Your work.”“I’ll be done in about half an hour. I heard yourmessage on my voicemail.”message on my voicemail.”“From yesterday.”“You sounded worried.”I hug him tightly.“I was. It’s not like you not to respond.”He kisses my hair.“Your cake should be ready in half an hour.” I smile athim and climb off his lap.“Looking forward to it. It smelled delicious, evocativeeven, while it was baking.”I smile shyly down at him, feeling a little self-conscious,and he mirrors my expression. Jeez, are we really sodifferent? Perhaps it’s his early memories of baking.Leaning down, I plant a swift kiss on the corner of hismouth and make my way back to the kitchen.I am all prepared when I hear him come out of his study,and I light the solitary gold candle on his cake. He givesme an ear-splitting grin as he saunters toward me, and Isoftly sing Happy Birthday to him. Then he leans over andblows it out, closing his eyes.“I’ve made my wish,” he says as he opens them again,and for some reason his look makes me flush.“The frosting is still soft. I hope you like it.”“I can’t wait to taste it, Anastasia,” he murmurs, and hemakes that sound so rude. I cut us each a slice, and we digin with small pastry forks.“Mmm,” he groans in appreciation. “This is why I wantto marry you.”to marry you.”And I laugh with relief . . . he likes it.“Ready to face my family?” Christian switches the R8ignition off. We’re parked in his parents’ driveway.“Yes. Are you going to tell them?”“Of course. I’m looking forward to seeing theirreactions.” He smiles wickedly at me and climbs out of thecar.It is seven thirty, and though it’s been a warm day,there’s a cool evening breeze blowing off the bay. I pullmy wrap around me as I step out of the car. I’m wearingan emerald green cocktail dress I found this morning whileI was rummaging through the closet. It has a widematching belt. Christian takes my hand, and we head tothe front door. Carrick opens it wide before he can knock.“Christian, hello. Happy birthday, son.” He takesChristian’s proffered hand but pulls him into a brief hug,surprising him.“Er . . . thanks, Dad.”“Ana, how lovely to see you again.” He hugs me, too,and we follow him into the house.Before we can set foot in the living room, Kate comesbarreling down the hallway toward the two of us. Shelooks furious.Oh no!“You two! I want to talk to you.” She snarls in heryou-better-not-fucking-mess-with-me voice. I glancenervously at Christian, who shrugs and decides to humorher as we follow her into the dining room, lea一ving Carrickbemused on the threshold of the living room. She shuts thedoor and turns on me.“What the fuck is this?” she hisses and wa一ves a pieceof paper at me. Completely at a loss, I take it from her andscan it quickly. My mouth dries. Holy shit. It’s my e-mailresponse to Christian, discussing the contract.All the color drains from my face as my blood turns to iceand fear lances through my body. Instinctively I stepbetween her and Christian.“What is it?” Christian murmurs, his tone wary.I ignore him. I cannot believe Kate is doing this.“Kate! This is nothing to do with you.” I glarevenomously at her, anger replacing my fear. How dare shedo this? Not now, not today. Not on Christian’s birthday.Surprised by my response, she blinks at me, green eyeswide.wide.“Ana, what is it?” Christian says again, his tone moremenacing.“Christian, would you just go, please?” I ask him.“No. Show me.” He holds out his hand, and I knowhe’s not to be argued with—his voice is cold and hard.Reluctantly I give him the e-mail.“What’s he done to you?” Kate asks, ignoringChristian. She looks so apprehensive. I flush as a myriadof erotic images flit quickly across my mind.“That’s none of your business, Kate.” I can’t keep theexasperation out of my voice.“Where did you get this?” Christian asks, his headcocked to one side, his face expressionless, but hisvoice . . . so menacingly soft. Kate flushes.“That’s irrelevant.” At his stony glare, she hastilycontinues. “It was in the pocket of a jacket—which Iassume is yours—that I found on the back of Ana’sbedroom door.” Faced with Christian’s burning gray gaze,Kate’s steeliness slips a little, but she seems to recoverKate’s steeliness slips a little, but she seems to recoverand scowls at him.She’s a beacon of hostility in a slinky, bright red dress.She looks magnificent. But what the hell is she goingthrough my clothes for? It’s usually the other way round.“Ha一ve you told anyone?” Christian’s voice is like a silkglove.“No! Of course not,” Kate snaps, affronted. Christiannods and appears to relax. He turns and heads toward thefireplace. Wordlessly Kate and I watch as he picks up alighter from the mantelpiece, sets fire to the e-mail, andreleases it, letting it float afire slowly into the grate until it isno more. The silence in the room is oppressive.“Not even Elliot?” I ask, turning my attention back toKate.“No one,” Kate says emphatically, and for the firsttime she looks puzzled and hurt. “I just want to knowyou’re okay, Ana,” she whispers.“I’m fine, Kate. More than fine. Please, Christian and Iare good, really good—this is old news. Please ignore it.”“Ignore it?” she says. “How can I ignore that? What’she done to you?” And her green eyes are so full ofheartfelt concern.“He hasn’t done anything to me, Kate. Honestly—I’mgood.”She blinks at me.“Really?” she asks.Christian wraps an arm around me and draws meclose, not taking his eyes off Kate.“Ana has consented to be my wife, Katherine,” he saysquietly.“Wife!” Kate squeaks, her eyes widening in disbelief.“We’re getting married. We’re going to announce ourengagement this evening,” he says.“Oh!” Kate gapes at me. She’s stunned. “I lea一ve youalone for sixteen days, and this happens? It’s very sudden.So yesterday, when I said—” She gazes at me, lost.“Where does that e-mail fit into all this?”“It doesn’t, Kate. Forget it—please. I love him and heloves me. Don’t do this. Don’t ruin his party and ourloves me. Don’t do this. Don’t ruin his party and ournight,” I whisper. She blinks and unexpectedly her eyesare shining with tears.“No. Of course I won’t. You’re okay?” She wantsreassurance.“I’ve never been happier,” I whisper. She reachesforward and grabs my hand regardless of Christian’s armwrapped around me.“You really are okay?” she asks hopefully.“Yes.” I grin at her, my joy returning. She’s backonside. She smiles at me, my happiness reflecting back onher. I step out of Christian’s hold, and she hugs mesuddenly.“Oh, Ana—I was so worried when I read this. I didn’tknow what to think. Will you explain it to me?” shewhispers.“One day, not now.”“Good. I won’t tell anyone. I love you so much, Ana,like my own sister. I just thought . . . I didn’t know what tothink. I’m sorry. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Shethink. I’m sorry. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Shelooks directly at Christian and repeats her apology. Henods at her, his eyes glacial, and his expression does notchange. Oh shit, he’s still mad.“I really am sorry. You’re right, it’s none of mybusiness,” she whispers to me.There’s a knock on the door that startles Kate and Iapart. Grace pokes her head around.“Everything okay, darling?” she asks Christian.“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Grey,” Kate says immediately.“Fine, Mom,” Christian says.“Good.” Grace enters. “Then you won’t mind if I givemy son a birthday hug.” She beams at both of us. He hugsher tightly and thaws immediately.“Happy birthday, darling,” she says softly, closing hereyes in his embrace. “I’m so glad you’re still with us.”“Mom, I’m fine.” Christian smiles down at her. Shepulls back, looks at him closely, and grins.“I’m so happy for you,” she says and caresses his face.He grins at her—his thousand megawatt smile.She knows! When did he tell her?“Well, kids, if you’ve all finished your tête-&agra一ve;-tête,there’s a throng of people here to check that you really arein one piece, Christian, and to wish you a happy birthday.”“I’ll be right there.”Grace glances anxiously at Kate and me and seemsreassured by our smiles. She winks at me as she holds thedoor open for us. Christian holds out his hand to me and Itake it.“Christian, I really do apologize,” Kate says humbly.Humble Kate is something to behold. Christian nods ather, and we follow her out.In the hallway, I gaze anxiously up at Christian. “Doesyour mother know about us?”“Yes.”“Oh.” And to think our evening could ha一ve beenderailed by the tenacious Miss Ka一vanagh. I shudder at thethought—the ramifications of Christian’s lifestyle revealedto all. Holy cow.“Well, that was an interesting start to the evening.” I“Well, that was an interesting start to the evening.” Ismile sweetly at him. He glances down at me—and it’sback, his amused look. Thank hea一vens.“As ever, Miss Steele, you ha一ve a gift forunderstatement.” He raises my hand to his lips and kissesmy knuckles as we walk into the living room to a sudden,spontaneous, and deafening round of applause.Crap. How many people are here?I scan the room quickly: all the Greys, Ethan with Mia,Dr. Flynn and his wife, I assume. There’s Mac from theboat, a tall, handsome African American—I rememberseeing him in Christian’s office the first time I met Christian—Mia’s bitchy friend Lily, two women I don’t recognizeat all, and . . . Oh no. My heart sinks. That woman . . .Mrs. Robinson.Gretchen materializes with a tray of champagne. She’sin a low-cut black dress, no pigtails but an updo, flushingand fluttering her eyelashes at Christian. The applause diesdown, and Christian squeezes my hand as all eyes turn tohim expectantly.him expectantly.“Thank you, everyone. Looks like I’ll need one ofthese.” He grabs two drinks off Gretchen’s tray and givesher a brief smile. I think Gretchen’s going to expire orswoon. He hands a glass to me.Christian raises his glass to the rest of the room, andimmediately everyone surges forward. Leading the chargeis the evil woman in black. Does she ever wear any othercolor?“Christian, I was so worried.” Elena gives him a briefhug and kisses both his cheeks. He doesn’t let me godespite the fact I try to free my hand.“I’m good, Elena,” Christian mutters coolly.“Why didn’t you call me?” Her plea is desperate, hereyes searching his.“I’ve been busy.”“Didn’t you get my messages?”Christian shifts uncomfortably and pulls me closer,putting his arm around me. His face remains impassive ashe regards Elena. She can no longer ignore me, so shenods politely in my direction.“Ana,” she purrs. “You look lovely, dear.”“Elena,” I purr back. “Thank you.”I catch Grace’s eye. She frowns, watching the three ofus.“Elena, I need to make an announcement,” Christiansays, eyeing her dispassionately.Her clear blue eyes cloud. “Of course.” She fakes asmile and steps back.“Everyone,” Christian calls. He waits for a momentuntil the buzz in the room dies down and all eyes are oncemore on him.“Thank you for coming today. I ha一ve to say I wasexpecting a quiet family dinner, so this is a pleasantsurprise.” He stares pointedly at Mia, who grins and giveshim a little wa一ve. Christian shakes his head in exasperationand continues.“Ros and I”—he acknowledges the red-haired womanstanding nearby with a small bubbly blonde—“we had aclose call yesterday.”close call yesterday.”Oh, that’s the Ros that works with him. She grins andraises her glass to him. He nods back at her.“So I’m especially glad to be here today to share withall of you my very good news. This beautiful woman”—heglances down at me—“Miss Anastasia Rose Steele, hasconsented to be my wife, and I’d like you to be the first toknow.”There are general gasps of astonishment, the oddcheer, and then a round of applause! Jeez—this is reallyhappening. I think I am the color of Kate’s dress. Christiangrasps my chin, lifts my lips to his, and kisses me quickly.“You’ll soon be mine.”“I am already,” I whisper.“Legally,” he mouths at me and gives me a wickedgrin.Lily, who is standing beside Mia, looks crestfallen;Gretchen looks like she’s eaten something nasty and bitter.As I glance anxiously around at the assembled crowd, Icatch sight of Elena. Her mouth is open. She’s stunned—catch sight of Elena. Her mouth is open. She’s stunned—horrified even, and I can’t help a small but intense feelingof satisfaction to see her dumbstruck. What the hell is shedoing here, anyway?Carrick and Grace interrupt my uncharitable thoughts,and soon I am being hugged and kissed and passedaround by all the Greys.“Oh, Ana—I am so delighted you’re going to befamily,” Grace gushes. “The change in Christian . . .He’s . . . happy. I am so thankful to you.” I blush,embarrassed by her exuberance but secretly delighted,too.“Where is the ring?” exclaims Mia as she embracesme.“Um . . .” A ring! Jeez. I hadn’t even thought about aring. I glance anxiously up at Christian.“We’re going to choose one together.” Christianglowers at her.“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Grey!” she scolds him,then wraps her arms around him. “I’m so thrilled for you,Christian,” she says. She’s the only person I know who isnot intimidated by the Grey glower. It has me quailing . . .Well, it certainly used to.“When will you get married? Ha一ve you set a date?”She beams up at Christian.He shakes his head, his exasperation palpable. “Noidea, and no we ha一ven’t. Ana and I need to discuss allthat,” he says irritably.“I hope you ha一ve a big wedding—here,” she beamsenthusiastically, ignoring his caustic tone.“We’ll probably fly to Vegas tomorrow,” he growls ather, and he’s rewarded with a full-on Mia Grey poutygrimace. Rolling his eyes, he turns to Elliot, who gives himhis second bear hug in as many days.“Way to go, bro.” He claps Christian’s back.The response from the room is overwhelming, and it’sa few minutes before I find myself back beside Christianwith Dr. Flynn. Elena seems to ha一ve disappeared, andGretchen is sullenly refilling champagne glasses.Beside Dr. Flynn is a striking young woman with long,Beside Dr. Flynn is a striking young woman with long,dark, almost black hair, clea一vage, and lovely hazel eyes.“Christian,” says Flynn, holding out his hand. Christianshakes it gladly.“John. Rhian.” He kisses the dark-haired woman onher cheek. She’s petite and pretty.“Glad you’re still with us, Christian. My life would bemost dull—and penurious—without you.”Christian smirks.“John!” Rhian scolds, much to Christian’s amusement.“Rhian, this is Anastasia, my fiancée. Ana, this isJohn’s wife.”“Delighted to meet the woman who has finally capturedChristian’s heart.” Rhian smiles kindly at me.“Thank you,” I mutter, embarrassed again.“That was one googly you bowled there, Christian,”Dr. Flynn shakes his head in amused disbelief. Christianfrowns at him.“John—you and your cricket metaphors.” Rhian rollsher eyes. “Congratulations to the pair of you and happyher eyes. “Congratulations to the pair of you and happybirthday, Christian. What a wonderful birthday present.”She smiles broadly at me.I had no idea Dr. Flynn would be here, or Elena. It’s ashock, and I rack my brains to see if I ha一ve anything toask him, but a birthday party hardly seems the appropriatevenue for a psychiatric consult.For a few minutes, we make small talk. Rhian is a stayat-home mom with two young boys. I deduce that she isthe reason Dr. Flynn practices in the US.“She’s good, Christian, responding well to treatment.Another couple of weeks and we can consider an outpatientprogram.” Dr. Flynn’s and Christian’s voices arelow, but I can’t help listening in, rather rudely tuning outRhian.“So it’s all play-dates and diapers at the moment . . .”“That must take up your time.” I flush, turning myattention back to Rhian, who laughs sweetly. I knowChristian and Flynn are discussing Leila.“Ask her something for me,” Christian murmurs.“So what do you do, Anastasia?”“Ana, please. I work in publishing.”Christian and Dr. Flynn lower their voices further; it’sso frustrating. But they stop when we’re joined by the twowomen I didn’t recognize earlier—Ros and the bubblyblonde whom Christian introduces as her partner, Gwen.Ros is charming, and I soon discover they live almostopposite Escala. She is full of praise for Christian’s pilotingskills. It was her first time in Charlie Tango, and she saysshe wouldn’t hesitate to go again. She’s one of the fewwomen I’ve met who isn’t dazzled by him . . . well, thereason is obvious.Gwen is giggly with a wry sense of humor, andChristian seems extraordinarily at ease with both of them.He knows them well. They don’t discuss work, but I cantell that Ros is one smart woman who can easily keep upwith him. She also has a great, throaty, too-manycigaretteslaugh.Grace interrupts our leisurely conversation to informeveryone that dinner is being served buffet-style in theeveryone that dinner is being served buffet-style in theGrey kitchen. Slowly the guests make their way towardthe back of the house.Mia collars me in the hallway. In her pale pink, frothybabydoll dress and killer heels, she towers over me like aChristmas tree fairy. She’s holding two cocktail glasses.“Ana,” she hisses conspiratorially. I glance up atChristian, who releases me with a best-of-luck-I-find-herimpossible-to-deal-with-too look, and I sneak into thedining room with her.“Here,” she says mischievously. “This is one of mydad’s special lemon martinis—much nicer thanchampagne.” She hands me a glass and watches anxiouslywhile I take a tentative sip.“Hmm . . . delicious. But strong.” What does shewant? Is she trying to get me drunk?“Ana, I need some advice. And I can’t ask Lily—she’sso judgmental about everything.” Mia rolls her eyes thengrins at me. “She is so jealous of you. I think she washoping one day that she and Christian might get together.”hoping one day that she and Christian might get together.”Mia bursts out laughing at the absurdity, and I quail inside.This is something I will ha一ve to contend with for a longtime—other women wanting my man. I push theunwelcome thought out of my head and distract myselfwith the matter in hand. I take another sip of my martini.“I’ll try and help. Fire away.”“As you know, Ethan and I met recently, thanks toyou.” She beams at me.“Yes.” Where the hell is she going with this?“Ana—he doesn’t want to date me.” She pouts.“Oh.” I blink at her, stunned, and I think, Maybe he’sjust not that into you.“Look, that sounded all wrong. He doesn’t want todate because his sister is going out with my brother. Youknow—he thinks it’s all kind of incestuous. But I know helikes me. What can I do?”“Oh, I see,” I mutter, trying to buy myself some time.What can I say? “Can you agree to be friends and give itsome time? I mean you’ve only just met him.”She cocks her eyebrow and I flush.“Look, I know I’ve only really just met Christianbut . . .” I scowl at her not sure what I want to say. “Mia,this is something you and Ethan ha一ve to work out together.I would try the friendship route.”Mia grins.“You’ve learned that look from Christian.”I flush. “If you want advice, ask Kate. She may ha一vesome insight as to how her brother feels.”“You think?” Mia asks.“Yes.” I smile encouragingly.“Cool. Thanks, Ana.” She gives me another hug andscuttles excitedly—and impressively, given her high heels—to the door, no doub一t off to bother Kate. I take anothersip of my martini, and I’m about to follow her when I amstopped in my tracks.Elena breezes into the room, her face taut, set in grim,angry determination. She closes the door quietly behindher and scowls at me.Oh crap.Oh crap.“Ana,” she sneers.I summon all my self-possession, slightly fuzzy fromtwo glasses of champagne and the lethal cocktail I hold inmy hand. I think the blood has drained from my face, but Imarshal both my subconscious and my inner goddess inorder to appear as calm and as unflappable as I can.“Elena.” My voice is small, but steady—despite mydry mouth. Why does this woman freak me out so much?And what does she want now?“I would offer you my heartfelt congratulations, but Ithink that would be inappropriate.” Her piercing cold blueeyes stare frostily into mine, filled with loathing.“I neither need nor want your congratulations, Elena.I’m surprised and disappointed to see you here.”She arches an eyebrow. I think she’s impressed.“I wouldn’t ha一ve thought of you as a worthy adversary,Anastasia. But you surprise me at every turn.”“I ha一ven’t thought of you at all,” I lie, coolly. Christianwould be proud. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I ha一ve muchwould be proud. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I ha一ve muchbetter things to do than waste my time with you.”“Not so fast, missy,” she hisses, leaning against thedoor, effectively blocking it. “What on earth do you thinkyou’re doing, consenting to marry Christian? If you thinkfor one minute you can make him happy, you’re very muchmistaken.”“What I’m consenting to do with Christian is none ofyour concern.” I smile with sarcastic sweetness. Sheignores me.“He has needs—needs you cannot possibly begin tosatisfy,” she gloats.“What do you know of his needs?” I snarl. My senseof indignation flares brightly, burning inside me asadrenaline surges through my body. How dare this fuckingbitch preach to me? “You’re nothing but a sick childmolester, and if it was up to me, I’d toss you into theseventh circle of hell and walk away smiling. Now get outof my way—or do I ha一ve to make you?”“You’re making a big mistake here, lady.” She shakesa long, skinny, finely manicured finger at me. “How dareyou judge our lifestyle? You know nothing, and you ha一veno idea what you’re getting yourself into. And if you thinkhe’s going to be happy with a mousy little gold-digger likeyou . . .”That’s it ! I throw the rest of my lemon martini in herface, drenching her.“Don’t you dare tell me what I’m getting myself into!” Ishout at her. “When will you learn? It’s none of yourgoddamned business!”She gapes at me, horror struck, wiping the sticky drinkoff her face. I think she’s about to lunge at me, but she’ssuddenly shunted forward as the door opens.Christian is standing in the doorway. It takes him ananosecond to assess the situation—me ashen andshaking, her soaked and livid. His lovely face darkens andcontorts with anger as he comes to stand between us.“What the fuck are you doing, Elena?” he says, hisvoice glacial and laced with menace.She blinks up at him. “She’s not right for you,She blinks up at him. “She’s not right for you,Christian,” she whispers.“What?” he shouts, startling both of us. I can’t see hisface but his whole body has tensed, and he radiatesanimosity.“How the fuck do you know what’s right for me?”“You ha一ve needs, Christian,” she says her voice softer.“I’ve told you before—this is none of your fuckingbusiness,” he roars. Oh crap—Very Angry Christian hasreared his not-so-ugly head. People are going to hear.“What is this?” He pauses, glaring at her. “Do youthink it’s you? You? You think you’re right for me?” Hisvoice is softer but drips contempt, and suddenly I don’twant to be here. I don’t want to witness this intimateencounter. I’m intruding. But I’m stuck—my limbsunwilling to move.Elena swallows and seems to draw herself upright. Herstance changes sub一tly, becomes more commanding, andshe steps toward him.“I was the best thing that ever happened to you,” she“I was the best thing that ever happened to you,” shehisses arrogantly at him. “Look at you now. One of therichest, most successful, entrepreneurs in the US—controlled, driven—you need nothing. You are master ofyour universe.”He steps back as if he’s been struck and gapes at herin outraged disbelief.“You loved it, Christian, don’t try and kid yourself.You were on the road to self-destruction, and I sa一ved youfrom that, sa一ved you from a life behind bars. Believe me,baby, that’s where you would ha一ve ended up. I taught youeverything you know, everything you need.”Christian blanches, staring at her in horror. When hespeaks, his voice is low and incredulous.“You taught me how to fuck, Elena. But it’s empty,like you. No wonder Linc left.”Bile rises in my mouth. I should not be here. But I’mfrozen to the spot, morbidly fascinated as they eviscerateeach other.“You never once held me,” Christian whispers. “Younever once said you loved me.”She narrows her eyes. “Love is for fools, Christian.”“Get out of my house.” Grace’s implacable, furiousvoice startles us. Three heads swing rapidly to whereGrace stands on the threshold of the room. She is glaringat Elena, who pales beneath her St. Tropez tan.Time seems suspended as we collectively take a deepgasping breath, and Grace stalks deliberately into theroom. Her eyes blaze with fury, never once lea一ving Elena,until she stands before her. Elena’s eyes widen in alarm,and Grace slaps her hard across the face, the sound of theimpact resounding off the walls of the dining room.“Take your filthy paws off my son, you whore, and getout of my house—now!” she hisses through gritted teeth.Elena clutches her reddening cheek and stares inhorror for a moment, shocked and blinking at Grace. Thenshe hurries from the room, not bothering to close the doorbehind her.Grace turns slowly to face Christian and a tense silencesettles like a thick blanket over us as Christian and Gracesettles like a thick blanket over us as Christian and Gracestare at each other. After a beat, Grace speaks.“Ana, before I hand him over to you, would you mindgiving me a minute or two alone with my son?” Her voiceis quiet, husky, but oh-so-strong.“Of course,” I whisper, and exit as quickly as I can,glancing anxiously over my shoulder. But neither of themlook at me as I lea一ve. They continue to stare at each other,their unspoken communication blaringly loud.In the hallway, I am momentarily lost. My heart poundsand my blood races through my veins . . . I feel panickedand out of my depth. Holy fuck, that was hea一vy and nowGrace knows. Crap. I can’t think what she’s going to sayto Christian, and I know it’s wrong, I know, but I leanagainst the door trying to listen.“How long, Christian?” Grace’s voice is soft. I canbarely hear her.I cannot hear his reply.“How old were you?” Her voice is more insistent. “Tellme. How old were you when this all started?” Again Ime. How old were you when this all started?” Again Ican’t hear Christian.“Everything okay, Ana?” Ros interrupts me.“Yes. Fine. Thank you. I . . .”Ros smiles. “I’m just going to fetch my purse. I need acigarette.”For a brief moment, I contemplate joining her.“I’m off to the bathroom.” I need to gather my witsand my thoughts, to process what I’ve just witnessed andheard. Upstairs seems the safest place to be on my own. Iwatch Ros stroll into the drawing room, and I bolt twostairs at a time to the second floor, then up to the third.There’s only one place I want to be.I open the door to Christian’s childhood bedroom andshut it behind me, taking a huge gulping breath. Headingfor his bed, I flop onto it and stare at the plain whiteceiling.Holy cow. That has to be, without doub一t, one of themost excruciating confrontations I’ve ever had to endure,and now I feel numb. My fiancé and his ex-lover—nowould-be bride should ha一ve to see that. Ha一ving said that,part of me is glad she’s revealed her true self, and that Iwas there to bear witness.My thoughts turn to Grace. Poor Grace, to hear allthat. I clutch one of Christian’s pillows. She’ll ha一veoverheard that Christian and Elena had an affair—but notthe nature of it. Thank hea一vens. I groan.What am I doing? Perhaps the evil witch had a point.No, I refuse to believe that. She’s so cold and cruel. Ishake my head. She’s wrong. I am right for Christian. I amwhat he needs. And in a moment of stunning clarity, Idon’t question how he’s lived his life until recently—butwhy. His reasons for doing what he’s done to countlessgirls—I don’t even want to know how many. The howisn’t wrong. They were all adults. They were all—how didFlynn put it?—in safe, sane, consensual relationships. It’sthe why. The why was wrong. The why was from his placeof darkness.I close my eyes and drape my arm over them. But nowhe’s moved on, left it behind, and we are both in the light.he’s moved on, left it behind, and we are both in the light.I’m dazzled by him and he by me. We can guide eachother. A thought occurs to me. Shit! A gnawing, insidiousthought and I’m in the one place where I can lay this ghostto rest. I sit up. Yes, I must do this.Shakily I get to my feet, kick off my shoes, walk overto his desk, and examine the pin board above it. Thephotos of young Christian are all still there—more poignantthan ever as I think of the spectacle I’ve just witnessedbetween him and Mrs. Robinson. And there in the corneris the small black and white photo—his mother, the crackwhore.I switch on the desk lamp and focus the light on herpicture. I don’t even know her name. She looks so muchlike him but younger and sadder and all I feel, looking ather sorrowful face, is compassion. I try to see thesimilarities between her face and mine. I squint at thepicture, getting really, really close, and see none. Exceptmaybe our hair, but I think hers is lighter than mine. I don’tlook like her at all. It’s a relief.look like her at all. It’s a relief.My subconscious tuts at me, arms crossed, glaringover her half-moon glasses. Why are you torturingyourself? You’ve said yes. You’ve made your bed. Ipurse my lips at her. Yes I ha一ve, gladly so. I want to lie inthat bed with Christian for the rest of my life. My innergoddess, sitting in the lotus position, smiles serenely. Yes.I’ve made the right decision.I must find him—Christian will be worried. I ha一ve noidea how long I’ve been in his room; he’ll think that I’vefled. I roll my eyes as I contemplate his overreaction. Ihope that he and Grace ha一ve finished. I shudder to thinkwhat else she might ha一ve said to him.I meet Christian as he climbs the stairs to the secondfloor, looking for me. His face is strained and weary—notthe carefree Fifty I arrived with. As I stand on the landing,he stops on the top stair so that we are eye to eye.“Hi,” he says cautiously.“Hi,” I answer warily.“I was worried—”“I know,” I interrupt him. “I’m sorry—I couldn’t facethe festivities. I just had to get away, you know. To think.”Reaching up, I caress his face. He closes his eyes andleans his face into my hand.“And you thought you’d do that in my room?”“Yes.”He reaches for my hand and pulls me into an embrace,and I go willingly into his arms, my fa一vorite place in thewhole world. He smells of fresh laundry, body wash, andChristian—the most calming and arousing scent on theplanet. He inhales with his nose in my hair.“I’m sorry you had to endure all that.”“It’s not your fault, Christian. Why was she here?” Hegazes down at me, and his mouth curls apologetically.“She’s a family friend.”I try not to react. “Not any more. How’s your mom?”“Mom is pretty fucking mad at me right now. I’m reallyglad you’re here, and that we’re in the middle of a party.Otherwise I might be breathing my last.”“That bad, huh?”“That bad, huh?”He nods, his eyes serious, and I sense hisbewilderment at her reaction.“Can you blame her?” My voice is quiet, cajoling.He hugs me tightly and he seems uncertain, processinghis thoughts.Finally he answers. “No.”Whoa! Breakthrough. “Can we sit?” I ask.“Sure. Here?”I nod and we both sit at the top of the stairs.“So, how do you feel?” I ask, anxiously clutching hishand and gazing at his sad, serious face.He sighs.“I feel liberated.” He shrugs, then beams—a glorious,carefree Christian smile, and the weariness and strainpresent moments ago ha一ve vanished.“Really?” I beam back. Wow, I’d crawl over brokenglass for that smile.“Our business relationship is over. Done.”I frown at him. “Will you liquidate the salon business?”I frown at him. “Will you liquidate the salon business?”He snorts. “I’m not that vindictive, Anastasia,” headmonishes me. “No. I’ll gift them to her. I’ll talk to mylawyer Monday. I owe her that much.”I arch an eyebrow at him. “No more Mrs. Robinson?”His mouth twists in amusement and he shakes his head.“Gone.”I grin.“I’m sorry you lost a friend.”He shrugs then smirks. “Are you?”“No,” I confess, flushing.“Come.” He stands and offers me his hand. “Let’s jointhe party in our honor. I might even get drunk.”“Do you get drunk?” I ask as I take his hand.“Not since I was a wild teenager.” We walk down thestairs.“Ha一ve you eaten?” he asks.Oh crap.“No.”“Well you should. From the look and smell of Elena,that was one of my father’s lethal cocktails you threw overher.” He gazes at me, trying and failing to keep theamusement off his face.“Christian, I—”He holds up his hand.“No arguing, Anastasia. If you’re going to drink—andthrow alcohol over my exes—you need to eat. It’s rulenumber one. I believe we’ve already had that discussionafter our first night together.”Oh yes. The Heathman.Back in the hallway, he pauses to caress my face, hisfingers skimming my jaw.“I lay awake for hours and watched you sleep,” hemurmurs. “I might ha一ve loved you even then.”Oh.He leans down and kisses me softly, and I melteverywhere, all the tension of the last hour or so seepinglanguidly from my body.“Eat,” he whispers.“Okay,” I acquiesce because right now I’d probably“Okay,” I acquiesce because right now I’d probablydo anything for him. Taking my hand, he leads me towardthe kitchen where the party is in full swing.“Goodnight, John, Rhian.”“Congratulations again, Ana. You two will be justfine.” Dr. Flynn smiles kindly at us, standing arm in arm inthe hallway as he and Rhian take their lea一ve.“Goodnight.”Christian closes the door and shakes his head. Hegazes down at me, his eyes suddenly bright withexcitement.What’s this?“Just the family left. I think my mother has had toomuch to drink.” Grace is singing karaoke on some gameconsole in the family room. Kate and Mia are giving her arun for her money.“Do you blame her?” I smirk at him, trying to keep theatmosphere between us light. I succeed.atmosphere between us light. I succeed.“Are you smirking at me, Miss Steele?”“I am.”“It’s been quite a day.”“Christian, recently, every day with you has been quitea day.” My voice is sardonic.He shakes his head. “Fair point well made, MissSteele. Come—I want to show you something.” Takingmy hand, he leads me through the house to the kitchenwhere Carrick, Ethan, and Elliot are talking Mariners,drinking the last of the cocktails, and eating leftovers.“Off for a stroll?” Elliot teases suggestively as we makeour way through the French doors. Christian ignores him.Carrick frowns at Elliot, shaking his head in a silentrebuke.As we make our way up the steps to the lawn, I takeoff my shoes. The half-moon shines brightly over the bay.It’s brilliant, casting everything in myriad of shades of grayas the lights of Seattle twinkle sweetly in the distance. Thelights of the boathouse are on, a soft glowing beacon in thelights of the boathouse are on, a soft glowing beacon in thecool cast of the moon.“Christian, I’d like to go to church tomorrow.”“Oh?”“I prayed you’d come back alive and you did. It’s theleast I could do.”“Okay.”We wander hand in hand in a relaxed silence for a fewmoments. Then something occurs to me.“Where are you going to put the photos José took ofme?”“I thought we might put them in the new house.”“You bought it?”He stops to stare at me, and his voice full of concern.“Yes. I thought you liked it.”“I do. When did you buy it?”“Yesterday morning. Now we need to decide what todo with it,” he murmurs, relieved.“Don’t knock it down. Please. It’s such a lovely house.It just needs some tender loving care.”Christian glances at me and smiles. “Okay. I’ll talk toElliot. He knows a good architect; she did some work onmy place is Aspen. He can do the remodeling.”I snort, suddenly remembering the last time we crossedthe lawn under the moonlight to the boathouse. Oh,perhaps that’s what we’re going to do now. I grin.“What?”“I remember the last time you took me to theboathouse.”Christian chuckles quietly. “Oh, that was fun. Infact . . .” He suddenly stops and scoops me over hisshoulder, and I squeal, though we don’t ha一ve far to go.“You were really angry, if I remember correctly,” Igasp.“Anastasia, I’m always really angry.”“No you’re not.”He swats my behind as he stops outside the woodendoor. He slides me down his body back to the ground andtakes my head in his hands.“No, not anymore.” Leaning down, he kisses me, hard.“No, not anymore.” Leaning down, he kisses me, hard.When he pulls away, I’m breathless and desire is racinground my body.He gazes down at me, and in the glow of the strip oflight coming from inside the boathouse, I can see he’sanxious. My anxious man, not a white knight or a darkknight, but a man—a beautiful, not-quite-so-fucked-upman—whom I love. I reach up and caress his face, runningmy fingers through his sideburns and along his jaw to hischin, then let my index finger touch his lips. He relaxes.“I’ve something to show you in here,” he murmurs andopens the door.The harsh light of the fluorescents illuminates theimpressive motor launch in the dock, bobbing gently on thedark water. There’s a row boat beside it.“Come.” Christian takes my hand and leads me up thewooden stairs. Opening the door at the top, he steps asideto let me in.My mouth drops to the floor. The attic isunrecognizable. The room is filled with flowers . . . thereunrecognizable. The room is filled with flowers . . . thereare flowers everywhere. Someone has created a magicalbower of beautiful wild meadow flowers mixed withglowing fairy lights and miniature lanterns that glow softand pale round the room.My face whips round to meet his, and he’s gazing atme, his expression unreadable. He shrugs.“You wanted hearts and flowers,” he murmurs.I blink at him, not quite believing what I’m seeing.“You ha一ve my heart.” And he wa一ves toward the room.“And here are the flowers,” I whisper, completing hissentence. “Christian, it’s lovely.” I can’t think of what elseto say. My heart is in my mouth as tears prick my eyes.Tugging my hand, he pulls me into the room, andbefore I know it, he’s sinking to one knee in front of me.Holy hell . . . I did not expect this! I stop breathing.From his inside jacket pocket he produces a ring andgazes up at me, his eyes bright gray and raw, full ofemotion.“Anastasia Steele. I love you. I want to love, cherish,and protect you for the rest of my life. Be mine. Always.Share my life with me. Marry me.”I blink down at him as my tears fall. My Fifty, my man.I love him so, and all I can say as the tidal wa一ve ofemotion hits me is, “Yes.”He grins, relieved, and slowly slides the ring on myfinger. It’s beautiful, an oval diamond in a platinum ring.Jeez—it’s big . . . Big, but oh-so-simple and stunning in itssimplicity.“Oh, Christian,” I sob, suddenly overwhelmed withjoy, and I join him on my knees, my fingers fisting in hishair as I kiss him, kiss him with all my heart and soul. Kissthis beautiful man, who loves me as I love him; and as hewraps his arms around me, his hands moving to my hair,his mouth on mine. I know deep down I will always be his,and he will always be mine. We’ve come so far together,we ha一ve so far to go, but we are made for each other. Weare meant to be.The cigarette end glows brightly in the darkness as hetakes a deep pull. He blows the smoke out in a longexhale, finishing with two smoke rings that dissolve in frontof him, pale and ghostly in the moonlight. He shifts in hisseat, bored, and takes a quick shot of cheap bourbonfrom a bottle wrapped in shabby brown paper beforeresting it back between his thighs.He can’t believe he’s still on the trail. His mouth twistsin a sardonic sneer. The helicopter had been a rash andbold move. One of the most exhilarating things he’d everdone in his life. But to no a一vail. He rolls his eyes ironically.Who would ha一ve thought the son-of-a-bitch couldactually fly the fucker?He snorts.They ha一ve underestimated him. If Grey thought for oneminute he’d go whimpering quietly into the dusk, that prickminute he’d go whimpering quietly into the dusk, that prickdidn’t know jack shit.It had been the same all his life. People constantlyunderestimating him—just a man who reads books. Fuckthat! A man with a photographic memory who readsbooks. Oh, the things he’s learned, the things he knows.He snorts again—Yeah, about you, Grey. The things Iknow about you.Not bad for a kid from the gutter end of Detroit.Not bad for the kid who won a scholarship toPrinceton.Not bad for the kid who worked his ass off throughcollege and got into publishing.And now all of that’s fucked, fucked because of Greyand his little bitch. He scowls at the house as if itrepresents everything he despises. But there’s nothingdoing. The only drama had been the stacked, blond broadin black, teetering down the driveway in tears before sheclimbed into the white CLK and fucked off.He chuckles mirthlessly, then winces. Fuck, his ribs.He chuckles mirthlessly, then winces. Fuck, his ribs.Still sore from the swift kicking Grey’s henchmandelivered.He replays the scene in his mind. “You fucking touchMiss Steele again, I’ll fucking kill you.”That motherfucker will get it good, too. Yeah—getwhat’s coming to him.He settles back in his seat. Looks like it’s going to bea long night. He’ll stay, watch, and wait. He takesanother toke of his Marlboro red. His chance will come.His chance will come soon.End of Part Two . . .