Fifty Shades Freed Read online

  "But, Christian, she was ill."

  "I know that, and I know she's better now, but I'm not giving her the benefit

  of the doubt anymore. What she did w as unforgivable."

  "But you've just played right into her hands. She wanted to see you again,

  Christian shrugs as if he doesn't care. "I don't want you tainted with my old

  What!

  "Christian . . . you are who you are because of your old life, your new life,

  whatever. What touches you, touches me. I accepted that when I agreed to marry

  "She didn't hurt me. She loves you, too."

  I gape at him, shocked. And I'm shocked that he still has the capacity to

  shock me. This is tin ' o ' Leila t. s ill lc around my head.

  His reaction to her was so cold, so much at odds with the man I've come to know

  and love. I frown, recalling the remorse he felt when she had her breakdown,

  when he thought he might In some way be responsible lor her pain. I swallow, re-

  membering, ioo. that he bathed lie;". My stomach twists painfully a! the thought,

  and bile rises in my throat. How can he say he doesn't care about her? He did

  back then. What's changed? Sometimes, life now I just don't understand him I Ic

  operates on a level far, far removed from mine.

  "Why are you championing her cause all of a Midden?" he asks, mystified

  and irritable.

  "Look. Christian. ! don't think Leila and i will be swapping recipes and knit-

  ting patterns anytime soon. But I didn't think you'd be so heartless to her."

  His eyes frost. "I told you once, 1 don't have a heart," he mutters.

  I roll my eyes — oh, now he is being adolescent.

  "That's just not true, Christian. You're being ridiculous. You do care about

  her. You wouldn't be pay ing for an classes and the rest of that stuff if you didn't."

  Suddenly, it's my lifetime ambition to make him realize this. It's painstak-

  ingly obvious that he cares. Win does he dcn it'.' It's life has feelings for his birth

  mother. Oh shit— of course. His feelings for Leila and his other submisshes arc

  tangled up with his feelings for his mother. / like to whip little brown-haired girls

  like you /ittiH/st t i 1 s i t I sigh

  and shake my head. Paging Dr. Flynn. please, i low can he not see this?

  My heart swells lor hint momentarily. My lost boy . . . Why is it so hard for

  him to get back in touch with the humanity, die compassion he showed Leila

  when she had her breakdown'.'

  lie glares at inc. h hit I 1 1 1 i i i l i

  He frowns as if he doesn't understand.

  "You know," I elucidate, "1 do something y ou don't like, and you think of

  some way to get back at me. Usually involving some of your kinky fuckery,

  which is either mind-blowing or cruel." I shrug, resigned. This is exhausting and

  "Mind-blowing?" he asks.

  What?

  "Usually, yes."

  "What was mind-blowing?" he asks, his eyes now shimmering w ith amused

  sensual curiosity. And I know he's trying to distract mc.

  Crap! I do not want to discuss this in SIP's meeting room. My subconscious

  examines her finely manicured nails with disdain. Shouldn 't have brought the

  subject up, then.

  "You know." I blush, irritated with both him and myself.

  "1 can guess." he whispers.

  Holy crap. I'm trying lo castigate him and lie's confounding mc. "Christian,

  "I like to please you." He delicately traces his thumb over my bottom lip.

  "You do," I acknowledge, my voice a whisper.

  "1 know," he says softly. He leans forward and whispers in my ear, "It's the

  one thing I do know." Oh, he smells good. He leans back and gazes down at me,

  Pursing my lips. ! stric lo appeal unaffected b> his touch. He is so artful at

  duelling me from atnlhing painful, or atnlhing lie doesn't want to address. And

  you let him my sub i i helpful i el her copy of Jane

  Eyre.

  "What was mind-blowing, Anastasia?" he prompts, a wicked gleam in his

  "You want the list?" I ask.

  Oh. thi lanisexl listing. "Well, the handcuffs," 1

  "Home," he says, more insistent.

  We gaze at each Iher. molten gi I I esting each other,

  testing our boundaries and our wills. I search his eyes for some understanding,

  trying to fathom how this man can go from raging control freak to seductive lover

  in one breath. His eyes grow larger and darker, his intention clear. Softly, he

  caresses my cheek.

  "We could stay here." His is voice low and husky.

  Oh no. My innei gi I longingl) 11 il the lodcn table. No. No.

  No. Not in the office. "Christian, I don't want to have sex here. Your mistress has

  just been in this room."

  "She was never my mistress," he growls, his mouth flattening into a grim

  "That's just semantics, Christian."

  He frowns, his expression puzzled. The seductive lover has gone. "Don't

  sonhinklhi i. Sh i i ismissiel

  I sigh . . . maybe he's right. I just want him to admit to himself that he cares

  for her. A chill grips my heart. Oh no. This is why it's important to me. Suppose /

  do something unforgi able. Suppose 1 don't conform. Will I be history, too? If he

  can i i i I 1 1 li ii i s i i n 1 i 1 n Lul i w is ill . . .

  could he turn againsi me? 1 gasp, recalling die fragments id' a dream: gilt mirrors

  and the sound of his heels clicking on the marbled floor as he leaves me standing

  alone in opulent splendor.

  "No . . ." The words are out of my month in whispered horror before 1 can

  stop them.

  "Yes," he says, am grasping m> chin he leans do n id plants a tender kiss

  on my lips.

  "Oh, Christian. tin scare me sometimes?' I grasp his head in my hands, twist

  my fingers into his hint, and null his hps to mine, lie stills for a moment as his

  arms fold around mc.

  "Why?"

  "You could turn away from her so easily . . ."

  He frowns. "And you think I might turn away from you, Ana? Why the hell

  would you think that? What's brought this on?"

  "Nothing. Kiss me. l ake me home' 1 plead. And as his lips touch mine, 1 am

  lost.

  "Oh please," I beg. as ( hristian blow s gently on my sex.

  "All in good time," he murmurs.

  I pull on my restraint ind groan loudly i rot 01 his carnal assault. I'm

  trussed up in soft leather culls, each elbow bound to each, knee, and Christian's

  head bobs and wea cs between nn legs, his masterful tongue leasing me, rclent-

  1 n I t i ii it i i i_ brthed in the soft

  and around the center of my universe. I want to straighten my legs and struggle in

  a vain attempt to control the pleasure. But 1 can't. My lingers list in his hair and I

  tug hard to light ills sublime torture.

  "Don't come." he murmurs in warning against inc. his soft breath on my

  w arm. wet flesh as he resists my fingers. "I will spank you if you come."

  "Control, Ana. It's all about control." His tongue renews its erotic incursion.

  tion, and I try — really try — but my body detonates under his merciless ministra-

  ix ui me.

  "Oh, Ana." he scolds. "You came." His voice is soft w ith his triumphant rep-

  rimand. He flips mc Mo n iii ,1^ I uppoi sit on my toicarms.

  ""Control." he admonishes, ami grabbing my hip-, lie thrusts himself into mc. I

  cry out aga
in, my flesh still q i i i lit I I ol my oigasm. He

  stills while deep inside me and, leaning over, unclips first one, then the second

  cuff. 1 1c w raps his arm around mc and pulls me into his lap. his front to my back,

  and his hand curls beneath m chin around m throat. I revel in the feeling of

  fullness.

  "Move," he orders.

  I moan and rise up and down on his lap.

  ■'Faster,'" he whispers.

  And I move faster and faster, lie groans and his hand tips m> head hack as lie

  nibbles my neck. His other hand travels leisurely across my body, from my hip,

  down to my sex, down to my clitoris . . . still sensitive from his earlier la ish at-

  tention. I w himpcr as his fingers close around inc. leasing me once more.

  "Yes Vim i i i n i i u are m id o

  "Yes." I breathe as my body lightens again, closing around him. cradling him

  in the most intimate way.

  And I let go n it low ing I i 1 He holds me still

  as my climax rips through me and 1 call out his name.

  "Oh, Ana, I love you," he groans and follow m> lead as he bucks into me,

  finding his own release.

  He kisses my shoulder and smoothes m> hair from m> face. "Does that make the

  our bed. Christian gcnll kneads my backside, lie's propped up beside me on one

  lie grins ami kisses me again, and reluctantly I roll on my side lo lace him.

  "Well?" he asks.

  His face nearly spin-, in two. ami he leans forward to kiss me gently. "Good.

  Shall we have dinner?" His eyes glow with love and humor.

  I nod. I am famished. I reach over to gently pull the little hairs on his chest. "I

  want you to tell me something," I whisper.

  "What?"

  "Don't get mad."

  "What is it, Ana?"

  He stills, his eyes nol le;i ing mine, and I'm witness to his internal struggle as

  if he's about to make the judgment of Solomon. He opens his mouth to say

  something then closes it again as some fleeting emotion crosses his face . . . pain,

  "Yes. Yes, I care. Happy?" His voice is barely a whisper.

  Oh, thank fuck for that. It's a relief. "Yes. Very."

  I le i'row its. "I can't believe I'm talking to you now, here in our bed, about —

  I put my finger to his lips. "We're not. Let's eat. I'm hungry."

  Ill I shakes Ins h 1 i a I Ider me. Mrs. C ire

  "Good." I lean up and kiss him.

  From: Anastasia Grey

  Subject: The List

  Date: September 9, 2011 09:33

  To; Christian Grey

  That's definitely at the top.

  ' nmissii a 11 I lit" 1 'I'

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Mr. Rodriguez, win.!'* happened'.'" I voice is hoarse and thick with unshed

  tears. Ray. Sweet Ray. My dad.

  "He's been in a car accident."

  "Okay, I'll come . . . I'll come now." Adrenaline has flooded my blood-

  stream, leaving panic in its wake. I'm finding it difficult to breathe.

  "They've transferred him to Portland."

  Portland? What the hell is he doing in Portland?

  "They airlifted him, Ana. I'm heading there now. OHSU. Oh, Ana, I didn't

  see the car. I just didn't sec it . . ." His voice cracks.

  Mr. Rodriguez — no!

  "I'll see you there." Mr. Rodriguez chokes mid the line goes dead.

  A dark dread seizes me by die ihroal. overw helming me. Ray. No. No. 1 lake

  a deep steadying breath, pick up the phone and call Roach. He answers on the

  second ring.

  "Jerry. It's my father."

  "Ana, what happened?"

  I explain, barely pausing to breathe.

  "Go. Of course, you must go. I hope your father's okay."

  "Thank you. I'll keep you informed." Inadvertently I slam the phone down,

  bin right now couldn't cure less.

  "Hannah!" 1 call, aware of the anxiety in my voice. Moments later she pokes

  her head around the door to find me packing my purse and grabbing papers to

  stuff into my briefcase.

  "Yes, Ana?" She frowns.

  "M father has been in an accident. 1 have to go."

  "Cancel all my appointments today. And Monday. You'll have to finish prep-

  ping the e-book presentation — notes are in the shared file. Get Courtney to help if

  you have to."

  "Yes," Hannah whispers. "I hope he's okay. Don't worry about anything

  here. We'll muddle through."

  "I have my BlackBerry."

  Daddy.

  I grab nn jacket, purse, and briefcase. "I'll call von i I' 1 need am thing "

  "Do. please. ( iood leek. Ana. ! lope he's okay."

  I give her a small light smile, fighting to maintain nn composure, and exit

  my office. I try hard not to run all the way to reception. Sawyer leaps to his feet

  when I arrive.

  Irs. Cirt n n d by n Iden appearance

  "We're going to Portland — now."

  "Okay, ma'am." he says, frowning, but opens the door.

  Moving is good.

  "Mrs. Grey." Sawyer a-.lv. as we nice toward i lie parking lot. "Can I ask why

  w e're making this unscheduled trip?"

  "It's my dad. He's been in an accident."

  "I sec. Docs Mr. Grey know?"

  "I'll call him from the car."

  Sawyer nods and opens the rear door to the Audi SUV, and I climb in. With

  III I I i II

  "Mrs. Grey." Andrea's voice is crisp and businesslike.

  "Is Christian there?" I breathe.

  "Um . . . he's somewhere in the building, ma'am. He's left his BlackBerry

  charging w ill) inc."

  ! groan silent ly w ith frustration.

  "Can you tell him I caked, and thai I need to speak w illi him? It's urgent."

  "I could try and track Irii i I h f wandet I

  "Just get him to call me, please," I beg, fighting back tears.

  "Cerlainh . Mrs. drey." She hesitates. "Is even ihing all right?"

  "No," I whisper, not trusting my voice. "Please, just get him to call me."

  I hang up. I cannot contain m anguish an longer. Pulling my knees up to

  my chest, 1 curl up on the real seal, and tears ooze, unw clcomc. down my checks.

  "Where in Portland, Mrs. Grey?" Sawyer asks gently.

  "OHSU," I choke out. "The big hospital."

  Sawyer pulls out into the street and heads for the 1-5, while I keen softly in

  the back of the c / / PI I r

  him be okay.

  "Christian," I gasp.

  "Christ, Ana. What's wrong?"

  "It's Ray — he's been in an accident."

  "Shit!"

  "Yes. I am on my way to Portland."

  "Portland'.' Please tell me Sawyer is with you."

  "Yes, he's driving."

  "Where is Ray?"

  "At OHSU."

  I hear a muffled voice in the background. "Yes, Ros," Christian snaps an-

  grily. "I know! Sorry, baby — I can be there in about three hours. I have business I

  need to finish here. I'll fly down."

  Oh shit. Charlie I i 1 i i i ind I mm Chnstian flew

  her . . .

  "I have a meeting with some guys over from Taiwan. I can't blow them off.

  It's a deal we've been hammering oul for months "

  Why do I know nothing about this?

  "Okay," I whisper. And I want to say that it's okay, stay in Seattle, and sort

  "Oh. baby." he whispers.

  "I'll he okay. Christian. Take your time. Don's rush. I don't want to worry

  about you, too. Fly safely."

  "Love you."

  "I love you
, too, baby. I'll be with you as soon as 1 can. Keep Luke close."

  "Yes, I will."

  "Bye." After hanging up, I hug my knees once more. I know nothing about

  Christian's business. What lite hell is he doing with the Taiwanese'.' 1 gaze out the

  window as we pass Boeing Field-King County Airport. He must fly safely. My

  stomach knots anew and nausea threatens. Ray ami Christian. I don't think my

  heart could take thai. Leaning back. 1 start m mantra again: Please lei him he

  okay. Please let him he okay.

  "Mrs. Grey." Sawyer's voice rouses me. "We're on the hospital grounds. I just

  have to find the ER."

  "I know where it is." My mind flits back to my last visit to OHSU when, on

  my second day, I fell oil' a stcpladder at ( 'laylon's. twisting my ankle. I recall Paul

  Clayton hovering over me and shudder at the memory.

  Sawyer pulls up to the drop-off point and leaps out to open my door.

  "I'll go park, ma'am, and come find you. Leave your briefcase, I'll bring it."

  "Thank you. Luke."

  lie nods, and 1 walk briskly inio the buzzing LR reception area. The recep-

  tionist at the desk gies me a polite smile, and within a lew moments, she's loc-

  ated Ra> and is sending me to the < >R on the third door.

  OR? Fuck! "Thank you," 1 mutter, trying to focus on her directions to the el-

  evators. My stomach lurches as I almost run toward them.

  Let him be oka l i 'him 1 a]

  The I It 1 1 ! I I II t I

  I i I I i t I ^ I t i I m md out and pre-

  venting me from getting to my dad.

  Finally, lite doors open on the third floor, and I rush to another reception

  desk, this one staffed by nurses in navy uniforms.

  it 1 I I i 1 i I i ill 1 1

  "My father, Raymond Steele. He's just been admitted, lie's in OR-4, 1 think."

  i I I 1 am w illing thei M rt

  "Let me check, Miss Steele."

  I nod, not bothering to correct her as she gazes intently at her computer

  "Yes. He's been in for a couple of hours. If you'd like to wait, I'll let them

  know that you're here. The waiting room's there." She points toward a large white

  door helpfully labeled WAITING ROOM in bold blue lettering.

  "Is he okay?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

  "You'll hit i i ill I u. ma im."

  "Thank you," I mutter — but inside I am screaming. / u am in know now!

  I open the door to reveal a functional, austere waiting room where Mr.

  Rodriguez and lose are seated.

  "Ana!" Mr. Rodriguez t. • II inn is in a east i li check is bruised on

  one side. He's in a wheelchair with one of his legs in a cast too. I gingerly wrap

  my arms around him.

  "Oh, Mr. Rodriguez," I sob.

  "Ana, honey." He pits m hack with his uninjured arm. "I'm so sorry," he

  mumbles, his hoarse voice cracking.

  Oh no.

  "No, Papa." .1 I ! i I i 1 I i i i ic I I i i I i

  I turn, he pulls me into his arms and holds mo.

  "Jose," I mutter. And I'm lost — tears falling as all the tension, fear, and

  heartache of the last three hours surface.

  "Hey, Ana, don't cry." lose u I Irol nn ■hair. I tp my arms around

  his neck and softly weep. We stand like this for ages, and I'm so grateful that my

  friend is here. We pull apart when Sawyer joins us in the waiting room. Mr.

  Rodriguez hands me a tissue from a conveniently placed box, and I dry my tears.

  "This is Mr. Sawyer. Security," I murmur. Sawyer nods politely to Jose and

  Mr. Rodriguez then moves to take a seat in the corner.

  "Sit down, Ana." Jose ushers me to one of the vinyl-covered armchairs.

  "What happened? Do we know how he is? What are they doing?"

  Jose holds up his hands lo halt my barrage of questions and sits down beside

  me. "We don't have any new s Ray. Dad. and ! w ere on a fishing trip to Astoria.

  We were hit by some stupid fucking drunk — "

  I Iries lo iniei n hk i in apology.

  "Calmate, Papa!" Jose snaps. "I don't have a mark on me, just a couple of

  bruised ribs and a knock on the head. Dad . . . well, Dad broke his wrist and ankle.

  I n die r h I issenger side nd R ly

  Oh no, no . . . Panic swamps my limbic system again. No, no, no. My body

  shudders and chilis as 1 imagine u hat's happening lo Rax in the ( )R.

  "He's in surgery. We were taken to the community hospital in Astoria, but

  they airlifted Ray here. We don't know what they're doing. We're waiting for

  "Hey, Ana, you cold?"

  provides warmth, (iingerh . .lose pulls off his leather jacket and wraps it around

  my shoulders.

  "Shall I get you some tea, ma'am?" Sawyer is by my side. 1 nod gratefully.

  in< isappears Iron the > i

  "Why were you fishing in Astoria?" I ask.

  Jose shrugs. "The fishing's supposed to be good there. We were having a

  boy s' gel-together. Some bonding time with my old man before acadentia heals

  up for my final year." Jose's dark eyes are large and luminous with fear and

  "You could have been hurt, too. And Mr. Rodriguez . . . worse." I gulp at the

  thought. My body temperature drop* further, and ! shier once more. Jose takes

  my hand.

  "Hell, Ana, you're freezing."

  Mr. Rodriguez inches forward and takes my other hand in his good one.

  I I t ! It t ides to a whisper.

  '"Call me Jose," he corrects me. I give him a weak smile, because that's all I

  can manage. I slmct once more.

  "The police took the asshole into custody Scen in the morning and the guy

  was out of his skull," Jose hisses in disgust.

  Sawyer reenters, bearing a paper cup of hot water and a separate leabag. lie

  knows how I take my lea: I'm pti i I it it iction Mr. Rodrig-

  i i I I i ise my hands as I gratefully ta the cu| in S

  "Do either of you want anything?" Sawyer asks Mr. Rodriguez and Jose.

  They both shake their heads, and Sawyer resumes his seat in the corner. I dunk

  my leabag in the water and, rising shakily, dispose of the used bag in a small

  "What's taking them so long?" I mutter to no one in particular as I take a sip.

  Daddy . . . PI

  "We'll know soon enough, Ana," Jose says gently. I nod and take another sip.

  I take my seat again beside him. We wait . . . and wait. Mr. Rodriguez with his

  eyes closed, praying I think, and Jose holding my hand and squeezing it every

  now and then. 1 slowly sip my tea. It's not Twinings, but some cheap nasty brand,

  and it tastes disgusting.

  1 remember the last time I waited for news. The last time I thought all was

  lost w hen Charlie Tango w cut missing. ( losing nn e es. 1 oiler up a silent prayer

  for the safe passage of my husband. I glance at my watch: 2:15 p.m. He should be

  here soon. My tea is cold . . . Ugh!

  I stand up and p i Ihei it d. i _ i 1 h h v t'l tin doctors been to see

  me? I take Jose's hand, and he gives mine another reassuring squeeze. Please let

  him he okay. Please lei him he okay.

  Time crawls so slowly.

  Suddenly the door opens, and we all glance up expectantly, my stomach

  knotting. Is this if!

  Christian strides in. Wis lace darkens momentarily when he notices my hand

  "Christian!" I gasp and leap up, thanking God he's arrived safely. Then I'm

  wrapped in his arms, his nose in ms hair, and I'm inhaling in
s scent, his warmth,

  his love. A small part of me feels calmer, stronger, and more resilient because

  he's here. Oh, the difference his presence makes to my peace of mind.

  "Any news?"

  I shake my head, unable to speak.

  "Jose." He nods a greeting.

  "Christian, tins is my lather. Jose Senior."

  "Mr. Rodriguez — we met at the wedding. I take it you were in the accident,

  too?"

  Jose briefly retells the slots .

  "Are you both well enough to be here?" Christian asks.

  "We don't want to be am where else." Mr. Rodriguez says, his voice quiet

  and laced with pain. Christian nods. Taking my hand, he sits me down then takes

  "Have you eaten'.'" he asks.

  I shake my head.

  "Are you hungry?"

  "Bui you're cold'.'" he asks, eyeing Jose's jacket.

  1 nod. He shifts in his chair, bul ssisely says nothing.

  The door opens again, and a swine doctor in bright blue scrubs enters. He

  tooks exhausted and harrowed.

  All the blood dis t pc i'rom ni> I I tts 1 siumble to my I

  "Ray Steele," I whisper as Christian stands beside me, putting his arm around

  "You're his next of kin?" the doctor asks. His bright blue eyes almost match

  his scrubs, and undei tins olhei circumstances I would base found him attraclise.

  "I'm his daughter. Ana."

  "Miss Steele—"

  "Mrs. Grey," Christian interrupts him.

  "My apologies," the doctor stammers, and for a moment I want to kick Chris-

  tian. "I'm Doctor Crowe. Your father is stable, but in a critical condition."

  What does that mean? My knees buckle beneath me, and only Christian's

  supporting arm prevails me from filling lo the floor.

  ""lie suffered »ecrc internal injuries." Dr. Crowe mivs. '"principally to his dia-

  phragm, but we've managed lo repair diem, and \e were able to save his spleen.

  Unfortunately, he suffered a cardiac arrest during the operation because of blood

  loss. We managed to get his heart going again, but this remains a concern.

  However, our gravest concern is that he suffered severe contusions to the head,

  and die MRI shows dint he has swelling in his brain. We'e induced a coma to

  keep him quiet and still w hilc w e moniloi die brain swelling."

  Brain damage'! No.

  " It's standard procedure in these cases. For now, we just have to wait and

  "And what's the pi mosis Christian asks coolly,

  complete rccoery. but "dial's in < iod's hand-, now ."

  "That depends on how hi-- brain responds. Usuallx seenly-two to ninety-six

  Oh, so long! "Can I see him?" I whisper.

  "Yes. you should be able lo see him in about half an hour, lie's been taken to

  the ICU on the sixth floor."

  "Thank you, Doctor."

  Dr. Crowe nods, turns and leaves us.

  "Well, he's alixe." I v. hisper lo Christian. nd tiie tears start lo roll down my

  "Sit down," Christian orders gently.

  "Papa, I think we should go. You need to rest. We won't know anything for a

  while," Jose murmurs to Mr. Rodriguez who gazes blankly at his son. "We can

  come back this evening, after you've rested. That's okay, isn't it, Ana?" Jose

  turns, imploring mc.

  "Of course."

  "Arc you staying in foil land?" t. liristian asks. Jose nods.

  "Do you need a ride home?"

  Jose frowns. "I was going to order a cab."

  ""Luke can take you."

  Sawyer stands, and Jose looks confused.

  "Luke Sawyer," I murmur in clarification.

  "Oh . . . Sure. Yeah, we'd appreciate it. Thanks, Christian."

  Standing. 1 hug Mr. Rodriguez and Jose in quick succession.

  "Slay strong. Ana." Jose whispers in my car. "He's a fit and healthy man.

  "I hope so " I lu i I releasing Inn I li off his jacket hand

  "Keep it, if you're still cold."

  '"No. I'm okay. Thanks." Glancing nervously up al Christian, i see that lie's

  regarding us impassively. Christian take:, my hand.

  "If there's am change. I'll lei you know right away." 1 say as Jose pushes his

  father's wheelchair toward the door Sawyer is holding open.

  1 i 1 icz raise han i 1 pause in th t 111 i

  my prayers, Ana." His voice wavers. "It's been so good to reconnect with him

  alter all these years. He's become a good friend."

  "You're pale. Come here." He sits down on the chair and pulls me on to his lap,

  folding mc into his arms again, and 1 go willingly. I snuggle up against him. fcel-

  n t i ! lepfalher's n n i 1 1 my husband is here

  to comfort mc. He gently strokes my hair and holds my hand.

  He grins. "Oh, she was yar," he says, quiet pride in his voice. It makes me

  smile properly for the first lime in lh i gut- renching surge of ap-

  "Hey." Christian is sitting on the edge of the bed i [e strokes my cheek with

  his knuckles, instantly calming me. "I called the ICU this morning. Ray had a

  good night. It's ad good." lie as reassuringly.

  "Oh, good. Thank soil" i mutter, silting up.

  He leans in and presses his lips to my forehead. "Good morning, Ana," he

  whispers and kisses m temple.

  "Hi," I mutter. He's up and dressed in a black T-shirt and blue jeans.

  "Hi," he replies, his eyes soft and warm. "1 want to wish you happy birthday.

  Is that okay?"

  I offer him a tentative smile and caress his cheek. "Yes, of course. Thank

  you. For everything."

  His brow furrows. "Everything?"

  "Everything."

  He looks moment 1 II I his c es widen with an-

  ticipation. "Here." He hands me a small. exquisitely w rapped box with a tiny gift

  In spite of the worry I feel about my father, I sense Christian's anxiety and

  excitement, and it's infectious. I read the card.

  Tor att our firsts on your first birthday as my Beloved wife.

  I (bveyou.

  Oh my, how sweet is that? "I love you, too," I murmur, smiling at him.

  He grins. "Open it."

  er box. Cartier. It's familiar, thanks lo m second-chance earrings and my watch.

  Cautiously, I open the box to discover a delicate charm bracelet of silver, or plat-

  inum or white gold — I don't know, but it's absolutely enchanting. Attached to it

  arc several charms: the Eiffel Tower, a London black cab. a helicopter Charlie

  Tango, a glider — the soaring, a catamaran The Grace, a bed, and an ice cream

  cone? I look up at him, bemused.

  " mill i?" He shi t ipoh I nd 1 can't Ik bat I t I if coin

  "Christian, this is heauliful. Thank you. It's yar."

  My favorite is the heart. It's a locket.

  "You can put a picture or whatever in that."

  "A picture of you.'* I gkmcc at him through my lashes. • Always in my heart."

  lie smiles his lo el heartbreaking! 1 mil

  I fondle the last two charms: a letter C — oh yes, I was his first girlfriend to

  use his first name. 1 smile at the thought. And finally, there's a Ley.

  "To my heart and soul," he whispers.

  Tears prick my eyes. 1 launch myself at him. curling my arms around his

  neck and settling into his lap. ""It's such a thoughtful present. I loe it Thank

  you," I murmur against his ear. Oh, he smells so good — clean, of fresh linen, body

  ish. and (I tian. Like hoi n i i *> I I i . 1 ^ _ i » it

  lie groans softly and enfolds me in his embrace.
r />   "I don't know w hat I'd do without sou." My voice cracks as I try to hold

  back the overwhelming swell of emotion.

  He swallows hard and tightens his hold on me "Please don't en ."

  1 sniff in a rather unladylike way. "I'm sorry. I'm just so happy and sad and

  "Hey." His voice is feather soft. Tipping my head back, he plants a gentle

  kiss on my lips. "I understand."

  "I know," I whisper, and I'm rewarded with his shy smile again.

  "I wish we were in happier circumstances and at home. But we're here." He

  shrugs apologetically once more. "Come, up you go. After breakfast, we'll check

  on Ray."

  Once dressed in m jeans and! n i i i bi let but welcome

  return during breakfast in our suite. I know Christian is pleased to see me eating

  my granola and Greek yogurt.

  "It's your birthday," Christian says softly. "And you have to stop thanking

  me." He rolls his eyes in exasperation, but fondly, I think.

  "I just want you to know that I appreciate it."

  "Anastasia, it's what I do." His expression is serious — of course. Christian in

  command and control. How could I forget . . . Would I w ant him any other w ay'.'

  I smile. "Yes, it is."

  He gives me a puzzled look then shakes his head. "Shall we go?"

  "I'll just brush my teeth."

  lie smirks. "Okay."

  Why is he smirking? The thought nags me as I head into the en suite. A

  memory springs unbidden to my mind. 1 used his toothbrush after I first spent the

  night with him. I smirk and grab his toothbrush in homage to that first time. Gaz-

  ing at myself as I brush my teeth, I'm pale, too pale. But then I'm always pale.

  The last time I was here I was single, and now I'm married at twenty-two! I'm

  gelling old. ! rinse out my mouth

  Holding up my « risi. I shake it, and the charms on my bracelet give a satisfy-

  ing rattle. How does my sweet Fifty always know exactly the right tiling to give

  me? I take a deep breath, attempting to stem the emotion slill lurking in my sys-

  He can afford it.

  utiili britshi r i ie Tai i ! II

  '"More than like ! Io e il. Very much. Like you."

  He smiles and kisses my knuckles once more. I feel lighter than I did yester-

  day. Perhaps because l's morni nd ill ii< i c ms a mote hopeful

  up. Or maybe it's know ing that Ray is no worse

  As we step into the empty elevator. I glance up at Christian. Ilis eyes flicker

  quickly down to mine, and he smirks again.

  "Don't," he whispers as the doors shut.

  "Don't what?"

  "Look at me like that."

  "Fuck the paperwork," 1 mutter, grinning.

  He laughs, and it's such a carefree, boy ish sound, lie lugs me into his arms

  and tilts my head up. "Someday . I'll rent ibis ele aloi for a whole afternoon."

  "Just the afternoon?" I arch my brow.

  "Mrs. Grey, you are greedy."

  "When it comes to you, I am."

  "I'm very glad to hear it." He kisses me gently.

  And I don't know if it's because we are in this elevator or because lie's not

  touched me in over twenty-four hours or if he's just my intoxicating husband, but

  desire unwinds and stretches lazily deep in my belly. I ran my fingers into his hair

  and deepen the kiss, pushing him against the wall and bringing my body flush

  against his.

  He groans into m> mouth and cups m> head, cradling me as we kiss — really

  kiss, our tongues exploring llie oh-so-IVmiiliar but still oh-so-nevv. oh-so-exciling

  territory that is the other'' i a 1 iner goddc i i bringii libido

  i 11 i 1 ii- 1 i I i I ill t n

  "Ana," he breathes.

  "I love you, Christian Grey. Don't forget that," I whisper as I gaze into dark-

  ening gray eyes.

  The elexalor comes smoothly lo a hall and the doors open.

  "Let's go and see our lather be lore i decide lo rem this today." He kisses me

  quickly 1 ikes m hi I i ill!

  As we walk p tst i Mi t i h signal to the kindly

  middle-aged man standing behind the desk. He nods and picks up his phone. I

  glance qucstioningly at Christian, and he gives me his secret smile. I frown at

  "Where's Taylor?" I ask.

  Christian auiids the reoling door, and I know it'

  lease m hand. The thought warms me Outside it's ;i i

  but the scent of the coming fail is in the breeze. I glance around, looking for the

  Audi SUV and Taylor. No sign. Christian's hand lightens around mine, and I look

  "What is it?"

  He shrugs. The hum ot an approaching car engine distracts me. It's

  throaty . . . familiar. As I turn to find the source of the noise, it stops suddenly.

  Taylor is climbing out of a sleek white sports car parked in front of us.

  Oh shit! It's an R8. I whip my head back to Christian, who's watching me

  warily. "You can buy me one for my birthday ... a white one, I think. "

  "Happy birthday," he says, and I know he's gauging my reaction. I gape at

  him because that's all I can do. He holds out a key.

  "You are compl lei i I I i mc i fucking hi li

  RS! Hah slut lust Hi I • i 1 u plils ii i hugi grin and my inner god-

  dess does a backflip off the high dive. I jump up and down on the spot in a mo-

  menl of unguarded and nidled i menl. Chi 11 i in

  nunc, ami ! dance forward into his wailing aims. I !c s\ nigs mc around.

  "You have more money than sense!" I whoop. "I love it! Thank you." He

  stops and dips me low suddenly, startling me, so that I have to grasp his upper

  "Anything for you, Mrs. Grey." He grins down at me. Oh my. What a very

  public display of affection, lie bends and kisses mc. "Come. Let's go see your

  dad."

  "Yes. And I get to drive?"

  He grins down at me. "Of course. It's yours." He stands me up and releases

  n nd I I i n nd I he dri 1 *

  Ta> lor opens u for inc. smiling broadlv. '"I lapp birthday. Mrs. Grey."

  turns awkwardly. He's still blushing when I climb into the car, and he closes the

  "Drive safe, Mrs. Grey," he says gruffly. I beam up at him, barely able to

  "Will do." I |

  "Take it easy. Nobody chasing us now," he warns. When I turn the key, the

  engine thunders to hi I ehc the i in i i e mirroi and spotting a rare

  moment of clear traffic, execute a huge perfect U-turn and roar off in the direction

  ofOSHU.

  "Whoa!" Christian exclaims, alarmed.

  "What?"

  "I don't want you in the 1CU beside your father. Slow down," he growls, not

  to be argued with. I ease off the accelerator and grin at him.

  "Much," he niullers ' ! I 10 look slci 1 ! iih i i si >1

  Ray's condition is t, imc k ing i i a< an i nic al'u Ihc heady road trip

  here. I really should drive more cuivlullr. You can't legislate for every drunk

  driver in this world. 1 must ask Christian what's become of the asshole who hit

  Ra I'm .-aire he knows. li! -.pile ol'lhe lubes. m falher looks eomlbnable, and I

  think he has a little more color in ins cheeks. V hile I lei! him about my morning,

  l I ! !1 I I 111 I

  Nurse Kcllie hovers, checking Ray's lines and making notes on his chart.

  "All his signs are good, Mrs. Grey." She smiles kindly at me.

  "That's very encouraging."

  A little later Dr. C roue appeals iwo nursing assistants and says warmly,
r />   "Mrs. Grey, time to take your father up to radiology. We're giving him a CT scan.

  "Up to an hour."

  "Sure thing. Mrs. Grey."

  J wander inlo ihe thankfully empty wailing room where Christian is talking

  on the phone, pacing. As he speaks, he gazes out of the window at the panoramic

  view of Portland. I le turns to me w lien I situs Ihc door, ami he looks angry.

  "How far above the limit? ... I see ... All charges, everything. Ana's father

  is in the 1CU — I want you to throw the fucking book at him, Dad . . . Good. Keep

  mc informed." He hangs up.

  He nods. "Some drunken trailer trash from Southeast Portland." He sneers,

  and I'm shocked b his termii i ! i I son tone. He walks over to me,

  and his tone softens.

  "Finished with Ray? Do you want to go?"

  "Um ... no." I peer up at him, still reeling at his display of contempt.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing Ra s b ng la n to 1 liolog I < til in lo check Ihc swelling

  in his brain. I'd like to wait for the results."

  "Okay. We'll wait." He sits down and holds oul ins amis. As we're alone, I

  go willingly and curl up in his lap.

  "This is not how 1 envisaged spending today." Christian murmurs into my

  "Ml- neither, but I'm feeling more positive now. Your mom was very reassur-

  ing. It was kind of her to come last night."

  Christian strokes my back and rests his chin on my head. "My mom is an

  "She is. You're very lucky to have her."

  Christian nods.

  "I should call m mom. Toil her about Ray." I murmur and C hristian stiffens.

  Tin surprised site hasn't called me.' 1 I frown in a moment ol' realization. In fact. I

  feel hurt. It's my birthday after all, and she was there when I was born. Why

  hasn't she called?

  "Maybe she did," Christian says. I fish my BlackBerry out of my pocket. It

  Mia. and Lilian. Nothing from m> mother. 1 shake my head despondently,

  machine. I don't leave a message. How can my own mother forget my birthday?

  Christian tightens his arms around me, nuzzling my hair once more, and

  than hear the buzz of his BlackBerry. He doesn't let me stand up but fishes it awk-

  wardly out of his pocket.

  "Andrea." he snaps, businesslike again. I make another move to stand and he

  stops me, frowning and holding me lightly around my waisi. i nestle back against

  his chest and listen to lite one-sided conversation.

  "Good . . . ETA is what time? . . . And the other, urn... packages'.'" Christian

  glances at his watch. "Does the Heathman have all the details? . . . Good . . . Yes.

  It can hold until Monday morning, but e-mail it just in case — I'll print, sign, and

  scan it back to you . . . They can w ail Go home. Andrea . . . No. we're good,

  thank you." He hangs up.

  "Everything okay?"

  "Yes."

  "Is this your Taiwan thing?"

  "Yes." He shifts beneath me.

  "Am 1 too heavy?"

  He snorts. "No, baby."

  "Are you worried about the Taiwan thing?"

  "No."

  "I thought it was important."

  "It is. The shipyard here depends on it. There are lots of jobs at stake."

  Oh!

  "We just have to sell it to the unions. That's Sam and Ros's job. But the way

  11 i h ng. none ol lot of choice

  "Am I boring you, Mrs. ( irc> I Ic nuzzles nn hair again, amused.

  "No! Never . . . I'm just very comfortable on your lap. I like hearing about

  "You do?" He sounds surprised.

  formation you deign to share with me." I smirk, and lie regards me with amusc-

  "Always hungry for more information, Mrs. Grey."

  "Tell me." I urge him as ! snuggle up against his chest again.

  "Tell you what?"

  "Why you do it."

  "Do what?"

  "Work the way you do."

  "A guy's got to earn a living." He's amused.

  "Christian, you earn more than a living." My voice is full of irony. He frowns

  and is quiet for a moment. I think he's not going to divulge any secrets, but he

  surprises me.

  "I don't want to be poor," he says, his voice low. "I've done that. I'm not go-

  ing back there again. Besides . . . it's a game," he murmurs. "It's about winning.

  A game I've always found very easy."

  "Unlike life," 1 murmur to m self, rhen 1 realize 1 said the words out loud.

  "Yes, I suppose." He frowns. "Though it's easier with you."

  Easier with me? I hug him tightly. "It can't all be a game. You're very

  philanthropic."

  lie shrugs, and ) know lie's growing uneomforiable. "Abdul some things,

  maybe," lie says quietly.

  "I love philanthropic Christian." I murmur.

  "Just him?"

  "Oh, I love megalomaniac Christian, too, and control-freak Christian, sex-

  pcrtise Christian. kink < liristian. romantic Christian. sh « liristian . . . the list is

  endless."

  "That's a whole lot of Christians."

  "I'd say at least fifty."

  lie laughs. "Fifty Shades." he murmurs into my hair.

  "My Fifty Shades."

  He shifts, tipping my head back, and kisses me. "Well, Mrs. Shades, let's see

  how your dad is doing."

  "Okay."

  "Can we go for a drive?"

  brain is back to normal — all swelling gone. Dr. Sluder has decided to wake him

  from his coma tomorrow She site's pleased w ith his progress.

  "Sure." Christian grins at me. "It's your birthday -we can do anything you

  Oh! His tone makes me turn and gaze at him. His eyes are dark.

  "Anything?"

  "Anything."

  How much promise can he load into one word? "Well, I want to drive."

  "Then drive, baby." He grins, and I grin back.

  My car handles like a dream, and as we hit the 1-5, 1 subtly put my foot down,

  forcing us both back m our seats.

  As we drive back into Portland, an idea occurs to me.

  "Hae you pi i I kind I ;isk Christki [en ilicl

  "No. You're hungry?" He sounds hopeful.

  "Yes."

  "Where do you want to go? It's your day, Ana."

  "I know just the place."

  I pull up near the gallery where Jose exhibited kis work and park right out-

  side the Le Picotin restaurant where we went titter Jose's show.

  C hrislian grins. "For one minute I thought you were going to take me to that

  dreadful bar you drunk dialed me from."

  "Why would I do that?"

  ""To check the azaleas are still ali e." 1 le arches ;i sardonic brow.

  I blush. "Don't remind me! Besides . . . you still took me to your hotel room."

  "Best decision I ever made," he says, his eyes soft and warm.

  "Yes. It was." I lean over and kiss him.

  ""Do you think mat supercilious dicker is 4:11 wailing tables"/" Christian asks.

  "Supercilious? I thought he was fine."

  "Well, he succeeded."

  C hrislian's mouth twists in amused disgust.

  "Shall we go see?" I offer.

  "Lead on, Mrs. Grey."

  After lunch and a quick detour to the i Icathman to pick up C hristian's laptop, we

  the manuscripts I've been sent. My only accompaniment is the sound of the ma-

  progress, 1 can breathe a little easier and relax. I'm hopeful lie just needs time to

  get well. I've got time — I can gic him that. I wonder idl if I should try calling

  Mom again
, but decide to do it later. ! hold Ra> hand loosely as I read to him,

  squeezing it oec i i III 1 feci soft and warm

  beneath my touch. He still has the indentation on his finger where he wore his

  wedding ring — even after all this time.

  An hour or two later, I don't know how long, I glance up to sec Christian, laptop

  in hand, standing at the end of Ray's bed with Nurse Kcllie.

  "It's time to go, Ana."

  Oh. I clasp Ray's hand lightly . ! don't want to leave him.

  "I want to feed you. Come. It's lute Christ i i i- nsisteni

  "I'm about to give Mr. Steele a sponge bath," Nurse Kcllie says.

  'Okay '' I concede. "We'll be back tomorrow morning."

  I kiss Ray on his check, feeling his unfamiliar stubble beneath my lips. I

  don't like it At ep s> i i i Wi Ilmeiou

  "I thought we'd dine downstairs. In a private room." C hristian says, a gleam

  in his eye as he opens the door to our suite.

  "RealK ? Finish what you started a few months ago?"

  He smirks. "If you're very lucky, Mrs. Grey."

  ! laugh. "( hristian. 1 don't hac anything dress to wear."

  ill I i I i hile dress I i t

  laugh. Unzipping the bag, I find a navy satin dress and ease it out. It's gor-

  "It's lovely. Thank you. I hope it fits."

  "It will," he says i 1 I 11 md hei h 1 lour 1 shocbox — "shoes to

  match." He gives me a wolfish smile.

  "You think of everything. Thank you." I stretch up and kiss him.

  "I do." He hands me y et another bag.

  I gaze at him quizzically. Inside is a black strapless bodysuit with a central

  panel of lace. He caresses my face, lilts my chin, and kisses me.

  "I look forward 1 t I 1 1 1

  Fresh out of m I I Inn ed and feeling pani| ed I sit on the edge

  of the bed and start up the hair dryer. Christian w anders into the bedroom. I think

  he's been working.

  "1 lore, let me," he says, pointing to the chair in front of the dressing table.

  "Dry my hair?"

  He nods. I blink at him.

  "Come," he sa irding i ml mly. I ' thai c ression and I know

  better than to disobey Slow l and methodical!} he dries. m hair, one lock at a

  time. He's obviously done this Move . . often.

  "You're no stranger to this," I murmur. His smile is reflected in the mirror,

  but he says nothing and continues to brush through tin hair. Ilmm . . . it's er>

  When we step into the elevator on our way to dinner, we are not alone. Christian

  looks delicious in his si I i 1 I ind jacket. No tie.

  The two women inside shoot admiring glances at him and less generous ones at

  mc. I hide my smile. Yes, ladies, he's mine. Christian takes my hand and pulls me

  It's busy, full of people dressed up for the evening, silting around chatting

  1 feci Vltl tell 1! 1 1 s u ! I i

  At first, I think. heading I r the pi 1 dinit n a ' w here we first dis-

  cussed the conti act but h ids me past that ind oi to the far end where

  he opens the door to another wood paneled room.

  "Surprise!"

  Oh. my. Kate and Llliol. Mia and lilhan. Carriek and Grace. Mr. Rodriguez

  and Jose, and tin i I I i isses I tand gaping

  at diem, speechless. Slow ' When'.' 1 turn in eonslernalion to Christian, and he

  squeezes my hand. My mom steps forward and wraps her arms around me. Oh,

  "Darling, you look beautiful. Happy birthday."

  pile the audience, and I bury my face in her neck.

  "Honey, darling. Don't cry. Ray will be okay. He's such a strong man. Don't

  cry. Not on yout bull la ll> ,ok ci but she i uns her composure.

  She grasps m face in hot hand- and with her thumbs w ipes aw a_ m> tears.

  "I thought you'd forgotten."

  "Oh, Ana! How could I? Seventeen hours of labor is not something you eas-

  ily forget."

  1 giggle through my tears, and die smiles

  "Dry your eyes, honey. Lots of people are here to share your special day."

  I sniffle, not wanting to look at anyone else in the room, embarrassed and

  thrilled that even oik I n - h an effort I come and see me.

  "How did you get here'.' \ hen did on arm e?"

  >il ut I tie. darlit It mis impiessed.

  And I laugh. "Thank you for coming, Mom." She wipes my nose with a tis-

  sue as only a mother v ould. "Mom!" ! scold, composing myself.

  "That's belter. 1 1 py birll il I Ink ceiyone lines

  up to hug me and wish me happy birthday.

  "He's doing well, Ana. Dr. Sluder is the one of the best in the country. Happy

  birthday. Angel " (iracc hugs inc.

  "You cry all you want to, Ana — it's your party." Jose embraces me.

  "Happy birthday, darling girl." Carrick smiles, cupping my face.

  "S'up babe? Your old man will be fine." Elliot enfolds me in his arms.

  "I hippy birthday."

  "Okay." Taking in;, hand. Christian pulls me from LTIiol's embrace. "Enough

  fondling m wile. Cio fondle your fiancee."

  Elliot grins wickedly at him and winks at Kate.

  A \aiicr I hadn't noticed before presents Christian and me with glasses of

  Christian clears his throat. "This would be a perfect day if Ray were here

  yourself, Ana. To all of you, thank you for coming to share my beautiful wife's

  birthday, the firsl of many to come. I hippy birthday, my love " Christian raises his

  glass to me amid a chorus of happy birthdays, and I have to fight again to keep

  my tears at bay.

  ill t 111 t

  cooned in the bosom of my family, knowing the man I consider my father is on a

  life support machine in the cold clinical cm irons of the 1CU. I'm detached from

  the proceedings but grateful that they're all here. Watching the sparring between

  Elliot and Christian, Jose's ready warm wit, Mia's excitement and her enthusiasm

  for the food, Ethan slyly watching her. I think he likes her . . . though it's hard to

  toll. Mr. Rodriguez is silting back, like me. enjoying the conversations. He looks

  better. Rested. Jose is very attentive to him, cutting his food, keeping his glass

  filled. Ha ing his sun i ing parent come so close 10 death hits made Jose appreci-

  ate Mr. Rodriguez more ... I know.

  I gaze at Mom. Site s in her clement, charming, witty, and warm. I loc her

  so much. I must remember to tell her. Life is so precious, I realize that now.

  "You okay?" Kate asks in an uncharacteristically gentle voice.

  I nod and clasp her hand. Y es. [ hanks for coming."

  "You think Mi el i i i 1 mid keep i va from you on your birthday?

  Wc got to fly in the helicopter!" She grins.

  "Really?"

  "Yes. All of us. And to think Christian can fly it."

  "That's kinda hot."

  "Yes."

  "London, Paris ... ice cream?"

  "You don't want to know."

  gh. a i 1 h I c i i til & Jerry's & Ana.

  "Oh ... and an R8."

  Kate sons her u ine rather unatlracli ely dow n hei chin, making us both laugh

  "Over the top bastard, isn't he'.'" She giggles.

  For dessert I am presented with a sumptuous ehoeolale cake blazing with twenty-

  two silver candles and a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday." Grace watches

  Christian sin in It in friends and lami i het eyes shine with

  lov e. Catching m ev e. she blow s me a kiss.

  "Make a wish Christi liispc o nn In » breath I blow out all the

&
nbsp; candles, fervently willing m fuller better. A«/(A . ge/ ire//. Hca.se get well. I love

  At midnight. Mi Rodi • it I take their leave

  ""Thank you so much fir coming." I hug Jose tightly.

  "Wouldn't miss it for the w oik Had I i h i ng in I right direction."

  "Yes. You, Mr. Rodriguez, and Ray have to come fishing with Christian in

  "Yeah? Sounds cool." Jose grins before he leaves to fetch his father's coat,

  and I crouch down to say good-bye to Mr. Rodriguez.

  "You know Ana, there was a time . . . well, I thought you and Jose . . ." His

  voice fades, and he gazes at me, his dark gaze intense but loving.

  Oh no.

  "I'm very fond of your son, Mr. Rodriguez, but he's like a brother to me."

  "You would have made one fine daughter-in-law. And you do. To the

  Greys." He smiles wistfully and I blush.

  "I hope you'll settle for friend."

  "Of course. Your husband is a fine man. You chose well, Ana."

  ""I think so." I whisper. "I love him so." 1 bug Mr. Rodriguez.

  "Treat him good, Ana."

  Christian closes the door to our suite.

  "Alone at list hen i ng bad instil ilchin me.

  I slep loward him and run m; lingers or or the lapels of his jacket. "Thank

  you for a wonderful birthday. You really are the most thoughtful, considerate,

  generous husband."

  "My pleasure."

  "Yes . . . your pleasure. Let's do something about that," I whisper. Tightening

  my hands around his lapels, I pull his lips to mine.

  After a communal breakfast. I open all m presents then giro a scries of cheery

  good-byes to all the Greys and the Kavanaghs who will be returning to Seattle via

  Charlie Tango. My mom, Christian, and 1 head up to the hospital with Taylor

  dri ing since the three of us would not fit into my R8. Bob has declined to visit,

  and I'm secretly glad. [I'd be jnsl loo weird, and Tin sure Ra wouldn't appreciate

  Bob seeing him al am thing loss than his best.

  Ray looks much ihe same. Hairier. Mom is drocked w iron she sees him, and

  together we cry a little more.

  "Oh, Ray." She squeezes Ins hand and genlly sirokes his face, and I'm moved

  to see her love for her ex-husband. I'm glad i hare '.issues in my purse. We sit be-

  side him. me holding Iter hand w hale she holds his.

  "Ana, there was a time when this man was the center of my world. The sun

  rose and sei with him. I'll alw ays love him. lie's iaken such good care of you."

  "Mom " i choke ami she sirokes no. face and lucks a lock of my hair behind

  my car.

  "You know I'll always love Ray. We just drifted apart." She sighs. "And I

  just couldn't live with him." she g izcs dow n al hei lingers, and 1 wonder if she's

  d ill i I i tilk ibout.

  "I know you love Ray," 1 whisper, drying my eyes. "They're going to bring

  him out of his coma today."

  "Good. I'm sure he'll be fine. He's so stubborn. I think you learned it from

  I smile. "Have you been talking to Christian'.'"

  ""Does lie dunk you're stubborn'.'"

  "I believe so."

  "I'll tell him it's a family trait. You look so good together, Ana. So happy."

  "We are. 1 thin! (icltit diet nywa I hit 'I he center of my

  world. The sun rises and sets with him for me, too."

  "He obviously adores you, darling."

  "And 1 adore him."

  I insist on going to the airport with Mom and Bob to say good-bye. Taylor

  follows in the R8, and Christian drives the SUV. I'm sorry they can't stay longer,

  but they have to ue i o Sa innah. I it i iul good-bye.

  "Take good care of her. Be >b." I w hisper as he hugs me.

  "Sure u ill. Ana. And you look after yourself"

  "Will do." I turn to my mother "Good-bye. Mom. Thank yon for coming." 1

  whisper, my voice hoarse. "I love you so much."

  "Oh my darling girl, I love you, too. And Ray will be fine. He's not ready to

  I giggle. She's right. I resolve to read the sports pages of the Sunday newspa-

  per to Ray that evening. ! watch her and Boh climb the steps into the GEH jet. She

  gives me a tearful wave, then she's gone. Christian wraps his arm around my

  shoulder.

  "Let's head back, baby," he murmurs

  "Will you drive?"

  "Sure."

  When we return to the hospital that evening, Ray looks different. It takes me a

  moment to realize that the suck and push of the ventilator has vanished. Ray is

  breathing on his owl 'hi I igh mc. I sin I lubbly face, and tak-

  ing out a tissue lo genth w ipe. the spittle from his mouth.

  Christian stalks off to find Dr. Sluder or Dr. Crowe for an update, while I

  take my familiar seat beside his bed to keep a watchful vigil.

  I unfold the spin km of the SuikUin O i d tiscienliousK be

  gin reading out the report i i i linst Real Salt Lake.

  By all accounts, it was a wild game, but the Sounders Mere defeated by an own

  goal from Islascy Keller. I grip Ray's hand firmly in mine as 1 read it through

  "And the final score, Sounders 1, Real Salt Lake 2."

  "Hey, Annie, we lost? No!" Ray rasps, and he squeezes my hand.

  Daddy!

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tears stream down my face. He's back. My daddy is back.

  "Don't cry, Annie." Ray's voice is hoarse. "What's happening?"

  I take up his hand in both of mine and cradle it against my face. "You've

  boon in an accident. You're in the hospital in Portland."

  Ray frowns, and i don'l know ifil's because lie's uncomfortable wilh my un-

  characteristic display of affection, or that he can't remember the accident.

  "Do you wanl sonic water?" 1 ask. though km no! sure il'I'm allowed 10 give

  hiai am. Ik- nods, bewildered. My heart swells. I stand up and lean over him,

  kissing his forehead, "d kw e you. Daddy. Welcome hack."

  He waves his hand, embarrassed. "Me, too, Annie. Water." 1 ran the short

  distance to the nurses' station.

  "My dad — he's awake!" I beam at Nurse Kellie, who smiles back.

  "Page Dr. Sluder," she says to her colleague and hurriedly makes her way

  around the desk.

  "He wants water."

  "I'll bring him some."

  I skip back to m lather's bed. I feel so light-hearted. His eyes are closed

  when I reach him. and 1 immediate!) worn that lie's slipped back into a coma.

  "Daddy?"

  "I'm here," lie mutters raid his eyes lluliei open as Nurse Kellie appears with

  a jug of ice chips and a glass.

  "Hello, Mr. Steele. I'm Kellie, your nurse. Your daughter tells me you're

  thirsty."

  In the waiting loom Christian is i irii I ei it his lapio deep in concentra-

  "Hc's awake," I announce. He smiles, and the tension around his eyes van-

  ishes. Oh ... I hadn't noticed before. Has he been tense all this time? He sets his

  laplop aside, stands, and embraces me.

  "How is he?" lie asks as I v rap my arms around him.

  ""Talking, thirsts, bewildered. lie doesn't remember die accident at all."

  "That's understandable. Now that he's awake, I want to get him moved to

  Seattle. Then we can go home, and my mom can keep an eye on him."

  "I'm not sure h el nough to be moved."

  "I'll talk to Dr. Sluder. Get her opinion."

  "You miss home?"

  "Okay."

  "You haven't stopped smiling," Christian says as I pu
ll up outside the 1 lealliman.

  "I'm very relieved. And happy."

  Christian grins. "Good."

  The light is fading, and I shiver as 1 step out into the cool, crisp e ening and

  hand my key to the parking valet. He's eyeing my car with lust, and I don't blame

  him. Christian puts his arm around me.

  "Shall we celebrate?" he asks as we enter the foyer.

  "Celebrate?"

  "Your dad."

  I giggle. "Oh, him."

  ""I've missed dial sound " C lirislian kisses m hair.

  "Can we just eat in our room? You know, have a quiet night in?"

  Sun: Come faking m ham lie lead ne lo the elevators.

  "Thai was delicious." ! murmur with satisfaction as I push my plate away, replete

  for the first lime in ages. "The sure know how to make a line lartc Tatin here."

  1 i IVl id bathed am 'in i I lia 1 li n n n in in

  the background, Christian's iPod is on shuffle and Dido is warbling on about

  white flags.

  Christian c ls mc I I His hair i till dat t m our bath, and he's

  wearing just his black T-shirt and jeans. "That's the most l' e seen you eat the en-

  tire time we've been here," he says.

  "I was hungry."

  He leans bad i I id take a sip of his

  "What do you want to do?"

  He raises an eyebrow, amused. "What 1 always want to do."'

  "And that is?"

  "Mrs. Grey, don't be coy."

  Reaching across the dining table, I grasp his hand, turn it over, and skim my

  index finger over his palm. "I'd like you to touch me with this." I run my finger

  up his index finger.

  He shifts in his chaii . "Just that?" 1 li- ey es darken and heat at once.

  "'Maybe this?" I run my finger up his middle linger and back to his palm.

  "And this." My nail traces his ring linger. "Dellnitel} tins." My linger slops at his

  wedding ring. "This is very sexy."

  "Is it, now?"

  "It sure is. It says this man is mine." And I skim the small callous that has

  already formed on his palm beneath the ring. I le leans forw ard and cups my chin

  with his other hand.

  "Mrs. Grey, are you seducing me?"

  "Anastasia, I'm a given." His voice is low. "Come here." He tugs my hand,

  pulling me onto his lap. "I like having unfettered access to you." He runs a hand

  up my thigh to m h I rasps 1 hi tilt his other hand and

  kisses me. holding me firmly in place.

  He tastes of while w ine and apple pie and ( 'hristian. I run my fingers through

  his hair, holding him to me while our tongues explore and curl and twist around

  each other, my blood heating in my veins. We're breathless when Christian pulls

  away.

  "Let's go to bed," he murmurs against my lips.

  "Bed?"

  lie pulls back further and lugs my hair so i am looking up at him. "Where

  would you prefer, Mrs. Grey?"

  vly inner godd t i i i 1 in ilin. 1 sh feigning in

  He smirks. "You're feisty litis c cuing." 1 le runs his nose along mine.

  "Maybe you do. You're getting mighty bossy in your old age." He narrows

  his eyes, but can't d i isc h latent I a or the

  "What are you going to do about it?" I challenge.

  I lis eyes glitter. "I know what I'd like to do about it. Depends if you're up to

  "Oh, Mr. Grey, you've been very gentle with me these last couple of days.

  I'm not made of glass, you know."

  "You don't like gentle?"

  "With you, of course. But you know . . . variety is the spice of life." I bat my

  lashes at him.