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Page 23


  This is me, Ana.

  All of me.

  And I love you.

  I place my arm around her head, cocooning her in my embrace while she touches my arms, my hair, and my ass with her fingers. I kiss her mouth, her chin, her jaw. I push her higher and higher until she's on the brink. Her body starts to tremble. She's panting, she's ready.

  "That's right, baby. Give it up for me. Please. Ana."

  "Christian!" she cries out as she comes around me, and I let go.

  THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERS through the portholes, casting watery reflections over the cabin ceiling. It's so peaceful out here on the water. Maybe we could sail around the world, just Ana and me.

  She dozes beside me.

  My beautiful, passionate girl.

  Ana.

  I remember thinking those three letters had the power to wound, but now I know they also have the power to heal.

  She doesn't know the real you.

  I frown at the ceiling. This thought keeps plaguing me. Why?

  It's because I want to be honest with her. Flynn thinks I should trust her and tell her, but I don't have the nerve.

  She'll leave.

  No. I banish the thought and enjoy lying with her for a few more minutes. "Mac will be back soon." I'm sorry to have broken the peaceful silence between us.

  "Hmm," she mumbles, but her eyes open and she smiles.

  "As much as I'd like to lie here with you all afternoon, he'll need a hand with the dinghy." I kiss her lips. "Ana, you look so beautiful right now, all mussed up and sexy. Makes me want you more."

  She strokes my face.

  She sees me.

  No. Ana, you don't know me.

  Reluctantly, I clamber out of bed, and she turns and lies on her stomach.

  "You ain't so bad yourself, Captain," she says with appreciation as I dress.

  I sit down beside her to put on my shoes.

  "Captain, eh?" I muse. "Well, I am master of this vessel."

  "You are master of my heart, Mr. Grey."

  I wanted to be your master in a different way, but this is good. I think I can do this. I kiss her. "I'll be on deck. There's a shower in the bathroom if you want one. Do you need anything? A drink?"

  She's amused, and I know it's at my expense.

  "What?" I ask.

  "You."

  "What about me?"

  "Who are you and what have you done with Christian?"

  "He's not very far away, baby," I answer, and anxiety knots like ivy around my heart. "You'll see him soon enough, especially if you don't get up." I smack her ass so that she laughs and yelps at once.

  "You had me worried." She feigns concern.

  "Did I, now? You do give off some mixed signals, Anastasia. How's a man supposed to keep up?" I give her a swift kiss. "Laters, baby." I leave her to get dressed.

  Mac arrives five minutes later, and together we get the dinghy fastened onto its rig at the stern.

  "How was your friend?" I ask.

  "In good spirits."

  "You could have stayed longer," I say.

  "And miss the trip back?"

  "Yes."

  "Nah, I can't stay away from this lady too long," Mac says, and he pats the hull of The Grace.

  I grin. "I get it."

  My phone buzzes.

  "Taylor," I answer, and Ana opens the sliding doors to the saloon. She's holding her life jacket.

  "Good afternoon, Mr. Grey. The apartment is clear," Taylor says.

  I pull Ana close and kiss her hair. "That's great news."

  "We've been through every room."

  "Good."

  "We've also been through all the CCTV footage of the last three days."

  "Yes."

  "It's been illuminating."

  "Really?"

  "Miss Williams was coming through the stairwell."

  "The fire-escape stairwell?"

  "Yes. She had a key and climbed all those floors to get there."

  "I see." Wow, that's some climb.

  "The locks have been changed and it's safe for you to return. We have your luggage. Will you be coming back this evening?"

  "Yes."

  "When can we expect you?"

  "Tonight."

  "Very good, sir."

  I hang up and Mac fires up the engines.

  "Time to head back." I give Ana a swift kiss and strap her into her life jacket.

  ANA IS A KEEN and willing deckhand. Between us, we hoist and stow the mainsail, the headsheet, and the spinney while Mac steers. I teach her how to tie three knots. This she's not so good at, and I find it hard to keep a straight face.

  "I may tie you up one day," she promises.

  "You'll have to catch me first, Miss Steele." It's a long time since anyone tied me up, and I'm not sure I'd like it anymore. I shudder, thinking how defenseless I'd be against her touch. "Shall I give you a more thorough tour of The Grace?"

  "Please, she's so beautiful."

  ANA STANDS IN MY arms at the wheel, just before we make the turn into the marina. She looks so happy.

  And that makes me happy.

  She's been fascinated by The Grace and all that I've shown her. Even the engine room.

  It's been fun. I take a deep breath, the salt water in the air cleansing my soul. And I'm reminded of a quote from one of my favorite books--a memoir, Wind, Sand and Stars. " 'There is a poetry of sailing as old as the world,' " I murmur in her ear.

  "That sounds like a quote."

  "It is. Antoine de Saint-Exupery."

  "Oh, I adore The Little Prince."

  "Me, too."

  I pilot us into the marina, then slowly turn The Grace and reverse into the berth. The crowd that gathered to watch has dispersed by the time Mac jumps onto the dock and ties the stern lines to two dock cleats.

  "Back again," I say to Ana, and, as usual, I'm a little reluctant to leave The Grace.

  "Thank you. That was a perfect afternoon."

  "I thought so, too. Perhaps we can enroll you in sailing school, so we can go out for a few days, just the two of us."

  Or we could sail around the world, Ana, just you and me.

  "I'd love that. We can christen the bedroom again and again."

  I kiss her under her ear. "Hmm, I look forward to it, Anastasia." She squirms with pleasure. "Come, the apartment is clean. We can go back."

  "What about our things at the hotel?"

  "Taylor has collected them already. Earlier today, after he did a sweep of The Grace with his team."

  "Does that poor man ever sleep?"

  "He sleeps. He's just doing his job, Anastasia, which he's very good at. Jason is a real find."

  "Jason?"

  "Jason Taylor."

  Ana's smile is tender.

  "You're fond of Taylor," I observe.

  "I suppose I am. I think Taylor looks after you very well. That's why I like him. He seems kind, reliable, and loyal. He has an avuncular appeal to me."

  "Avuncular?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay, avuncular."

  Ana laughs. "Oh, Christian, grow up, for heaven's sake."

  What?

  She's scolding me.

  Why?

  Because I'm possessive? Maybe that's childish.

  Maybe. "I'm trying," I respond.

  "That you are. Very," she says, looking toward the ceiling.

  "What memories you evoke when you roll your eyes at me, Anastasia."

  "Well, if you behave yourself, maybe we can relive some of those memories."

  "Behave myself? Really, Miss Steele--what makes you think I want to relive them?"

  "Probably the way your eyes lit up like Christmas when I said that."

  "You know me so well already," I say.

  "I'd like to know you better."

  "And I you, Anastasia. Come, let's go." Mac has lowered the gangplank, allowing me to lead Ana onto the dock. "Thanks, Mac." I shake his hand.

  "Always a pleasure, Mr. Grey, and good-bye. Ana, grea
t to meet you."

  "Good day, Mac, and thank you," Ana replies, and she looks a little shy.

  Together Ana and I walk up to the promenade, leaving Mac on The Grace.

  "Where's Mac from?" Ana asks.

  "Ireland. Northern Ireland."

  "Is he your friend?"

  "Mac? He works for me. Helped build The Grace."

  "Do you have many friends?"

  What would I need friends for?

  "Not really. Doing what I do. I don't cultivate friendships. There's only--" Shit. I stop myself. I don't want to mention Elena. "Hungry?" I ask, feeling food might be a safer topic.

  Ana nods.

  "We'll eat where I left the car. Come."

  ANA AND I ARE seated at a table in Bee's, an Italian bistro next to SP's. She reads the menu while I take a sip of a fine chilled Frascati. I like watching her read.

  "What?" Ana asks when she looks up.

  "You look lovely, Anastasia. The outdoors agrees with you."

  "I feel rather windburned, to tell the truth. But I had a lovely afternoon. A perfect afternoon. Thank you."

  "My pleasure."

  "Can I ask you something?"

  "Anything, Anastasia. You know that."

  "You don't seem to have many friends. Why is that?"

  "I told you, I don't really have time. I have business associates, though that's very different from friendships, I suppose. I have my family, and that's it." I shrug. "Apart from Elena."

  Thankfully, she ignores my Elena comment. "No male friends your own age that you can go out with and let off steam?"

  No. Just Elliot.

  "You know how I like to let off steam, Anastasia." My voice is low. "And I've been working, building up the business. That's all I do, except sail and fly occasionally." And fuck, of course.

  "Not even in college?"

  "Not really."

  "Just Elena, then?"

  I nod. Where is she going with this?

  "Must be lonely."

  Leila's words come back to me: "But you're lonely. I can see it." I frown. The only time I felt lonely was when Ana left me.

  It was crippling.

  I never want to feel like that again.

  "What would you like to eat?" I ask, hoping to move the subject on.

  "I'm going for the risotto."

  "Good choice." I beckon the waiter over.

  We place our order. Risotto for Ana, penne for me.

  The waiter scurries off and I notice Ana staring down at her lap, knotting her fingers. Something is on her mind. "Anastasia, what's wrong? Tell me."

  She looks at me, continuing to fidget, and I know there's something bothering her. "Tell me," I demand. I hate it when she's anxious.

  She sits up, straightening her back. She means business.

  Shit. Now what?

  "I'm just worried that this isn't enough for you. You know, to let off steam."

  What? Not this again. "Have I given you any indication that this isn't enough?" I ask.

  "No."

  "Then why do you think that?"

  "I know what you're like. What you, um, need." Her voice is hesitant, and she rounds her shoulders and crosses her arms like she's folding in on herself. I close my eyes and rub my forehead. I don't know what to say. I thought we were having a good time.

  "What do I have to do?" I whisper.

  I'm trying, Ana. I'm really trying.

  "No, you misunderstand," she says, suddenly animated. "You have been amazing, and I know it's just been a few days, but I hope I'm not forcing you to be someone you're not."

  Her response is reassuring, but I think she's missing the point. "I'm still me, Anastasia, in all my fifty shades of fucked up...ness," I say, searching for the word. "Yes, I have to fight the urge to be controlling, but that's my nature, how I've dealt with my life. Yes, I expect you to behave a certain way, and when you don't it's both challenging and refreshing. We still do what I like to do. You let me spank you after your outrageous bid yesterday."

  The thought of last night's arousing encounter preoccupies me for a moment.

  Grey!

  Keeping my voice low, I try to unravel how I feel. "I enjoy punishing you. I don't think the urge will ever go, but I'm trying, and it's not as hard as I thought it would be."

  "I didn't mind that," Ana says quietly, and she's referring to our assignation in my childhood bedroom.

  "I know. Neither did I."

  I take a deep breath and tell her the truth. "But let me tell you, Anastasia, this is all new to me, and these last few days have been the best in my life. I don't want to change anything."

  Her face brightens. "They've been the best in my life, too, without exception."

  I'm sure my relief is reflected in my smile.

  She persists. "So, you don't want to take me into your playroom?"

  Fuck. I swallow. "No, I don't."

  "Why not?" she asks.

  Now I'm really in the confessional. "The last time we were in there you left me. I will shy away from anything that could make you leave me again. I was devastated when you left. I explained that. I never want to feel like that again. I've told you how I feel about you."

  "But it hardly seems fair. It can't be very relaxing for you to be constantly concerned about how I feel. You've made all these changes for me, and I--I think I should reciprocate in some way. I don't know, maybe try some role-playing games." She's blushing.

  "Ana, you do reciprocate, more than you know. Please, please don't feel like this. Baby, it's only been one weekend. Give us some time. I thought a great deal about us when you left. We need time. You need to trust me, and I you. Maybe in time we can indulge, but I like how you are now. I like seeing you this happy, this relaxed and carefree, knowing that I had something to do with it. I have never--" I stop.

  Don't give up on me, Ana.

  I hear Dr. Flynn's voice, nagging me. "We have to walk before we can run," I say out loud.

  "What's so funny?" she asks.

  "Flynn. He says that all the time. I never thought I'd be quoting him."

  "A Flynnism."

  I laugh. "Exactly."

  The waiter arrives with the appetizers and our heavy conversation ceases, turning to the much lighter subject of travel. We discuss all the countries Ana would love to visit, and the places I've been. Talking to Ana reminds me how lucky I am. My parents took us all over the world: to Europe, to Asia, and to South America. My father in particular considered travel a vital part of our education. Of course, they could afford it. Ana's never left the U.S. and has always longed to visit Europe. I'd like to take her to all these places; I wonder how she'd feel about sailing the world with me.

  Don't get ahead of yourself, Grey.

  TRAFFIC IS LIGHT DURING our drive back to Escala. Ana admires the passing sights, her foot tapping in time to the music that fills the car.

  I can't help thinking about our earlier intense conversation about our relationship. The truth is, I don't know if I can maintain a vanilla relationship, but I'm willing to try. I don't want to push her into something she doesn't want to do.

  But she's willing, Grey.

  She said so.

  She wants the Red Room, as she calls it.

  I shake my head. I think, for once, I'm going to take Dr. Flynn's advice.

  Walk before we run, Ana.

  I glance out of the window and catch sight of a young woman with long brown hair and she reminds me of Leila. It's not her, but as we near Escala I begin to scan the streets, searching for her.

  Where the fuck is she?

  By the time I pull into the garage at Escala, my hands are gripping the steering wheel and tension has tightened every muscle in my body. I'm wondering if it was a good idea to come back to the apartment with Leila still at large.

  Sawyer is in the garage, prowling around my parking spaces like a caged lion. This is overkill surely, but I'm relieved to see the Audi A3 is gone. He opens Ana's car door as I switch off the engine.


  "Hello, Sawyer," she says.

  "Miss Steele. Mr. Grey," he says in greeting.

  "No sign?" I ask him.

  "No, sir," he responds, and even though I knew that would be the answer, it's vexing. I grasp Ana's hand and we step into the elevator.

  "You are not allowed out of here alone. You understand?" I caution Ana.

  "Okay," she says as the doors close, and her lips twitch in amusement.

  "What's so funny?" I'm floored that she agreed so readily.

  "You are."

  "Me?" My tension starts to dissolve. She's laughing at me? "Miss Steele? Why am I funny?" I purse my lips, trying to stop my smile.

  "Don't pout," she says.

  I'm pouting?

  "Why?"

  "Because it has the same effect on me as I have on you when I do this." She lets her teeth toy with her bottom lip.

  "Really?" I do it once more and lean down to give her a swift kiss. When my lips touch hers, it sparks my desire. I hear her sharp intake of breath, then her fingers are twisting in my hair. Holding my lips to hers, I grab her and push her against the elevator wall, my hands cradling her face. Her tongue is in my mouth and mine in hers as she takes what she wants and I give her all that I have.

  It's explosive.

  I want to fuck her. Now.

  I pour all my anxiety into her, and she takes everything.

  Ana...

  The elevator doors open with the familiar ping and I pull my face away from her, but I'm still pinning her to the wall with my hips and my hardening erection.

  "Whoa," I whisper, dragging air into my lungs.

  "Whoa," she answers, panting.

  "What you do to me, Ana." I trace my thumb across her lower lip. Ana's eyes flit to the foyer and I sense rather than see Taylor.

  She kisses the corner of my mouth. "What you do to me, Christian," she says. I step back and take her hand. I haven't jumped her in an elevator since that day at The Heathman.

  Get a grip, Grey.

  "Come," I say.

  As we exit the elevator, Taylor is standing to one side.

  "Good evening, Taylor."

  "Mr. Grey, Miss Steele."

  "I was Mrs. Taylor yesterday," Ana says, all smiles for Mr. Taylor.

  "That has a nice ring to it, Miss Steele," Taylor responds.

  "I thought so, too."

  What the hell is going on?

  I scowl at Ana and Taylor. "If you two have quite finished, I'd like a debriefing." Ana and Taylor exchange a look. "I'll be with you shortly. I just want a word with Miss Steele," I say to Taylor.

  He nods.

  And I take Ana into my bedroom and close the door. "Don't flirt with the staff, Anastasia."

  "I wasn't flirting. I was being friendly. There is a difference."

  "Don't be friendly with the staff or flirt with them. I don't like it."