Darker

  "I'm fascinated," she says. "Everything about you fascinates me, Christian."

  Her words are encouraging, so I continue my story, of how I bought and sold more companies, keeping those that shared my ethos, breaking up and selling the others.

  "Mergers and acquisitions," she muses.

  "The very same. I moved into shipping two years ago, and from there into improving food production. Our test sites in Africa are pioneering new agricultural techniques for higher crop yields."

  "Feed the world," Ana teases me.

  "Yeah, something like that."

  "You're very philanthropic."

  "I can afford to be."

  "This is delicious," Ana says, as she takes another spoonful of chowder.

  "One of my favorites," I respond.

  "You told me you like sailing." Ana motions to the boats outside.

  "Yes. I've been coming here since I was a kid. Elliot and I learned to sail at the sail school here. Do you sail?"

  "No."

  "So what does a young woman from Montesano do to keep herself amused?" I take a sip of my beer.

  "Read."

  "It always comes back to books with you, doesn't it?"

  "Yes."

  "What happened between Ray and your mom?"

  "I think they drifted apart. My mom is such a romantic, and Ray, well, he's more practical. She'd been in Washington all her life. She wanted adventure."

  "Did she find any?"

  "She found Steve." Her expression darkens, as if the mention of his name leaves a nasty taste in her mouth. "But she never talks about him."

  "Oh."

  "Yes. I don't think that was a happy time for her. I wondered if she regretted leaving Ray after that."

  "And you stayed with him."

  "Yes. He needed me more than my mom did."

  We talk freely and easily. Ana is a good listener and much more forthcoming about herself this time. Perhaps it's because she now knows that I love her.

  I love Ana.

  There. That's not so painful, is it, Grey?

  She's explaining how much she disliked living in Texas and Vegas because of the heat. She prefers the cooler climate in Washington.

  I hope she stays in Washington.

  Yes. With me.

  Like moving in?

  Grey, you're getting way ahead of yourself here.

  Take her sailing.

  I glance at my watch and drain my beer. "Shall we go?"

  We settle up for lunch and we head outside into the mild summer sunshine. "I wanted to show you something."

  Holding hands, we amble past the smaller boats anchored in the marina. I spot The Grace's mast towering above the smaller boats as we near her mooring. My anticipation escalates. I haven't been sailing for a while, and now I get to take my girl. Leaving the main promenade, we step onto the dock, then down onto a narrower pontoon. At The Grace, I stop. "I thought we'd go sailing this afternoon. This is my boat."

  My catamaran. My pride and joy.

  Ana's impressed.

  "Built by my company. She's been designed from the ground up by the very best naval architects in the world and constructed here in Seattle at my yard. She has hybrid electric drives, asymmetric dagger boards, a square-topped mainsail--"

  "Okay!" Ana says, holding up her hands. "You've lost me, Christian."

  Don't get carried away, Grey.

  "She's a great boat." I can't conceal my admiration.

  "She looks mighty fine, Mr. Grey."

  "That she does, Miss Steele."

  "What's her name?"

  I take her hand and show her "The Grace" written in an elaborate scroll on the side. "You named her after your mom?" Ana sounds surprised.

  "Yes. Why do you find that strange?"

  She shrugs, at a loss for words.

  "I adore my mom, Anastasia. Why wouldn't I name a boat after her?"

  "No, it's not that. It's just--"

  "Anastasia, Grace Trevelyan-Grey saved my life. I owe her everything."

  Her smile is uncertain, and I wonder what's going through her head, and what I might have done to make her think I don't love my mother.

  Okay, so I once told Ana I didn't have a heart--but there's always been room for my family in what's left of it. Even Elliot.

  I didn't know there was space for anyone else.

  But there's an Ana-shaped space.

  And she's filled it to overflowing.

  I swallow as I try to contain the depth of feeling I have for her. She's bringing my heart back to life, bringing me back to life.

  "Do you want to come aboard?" I ask, before I say something sappy.

  "Yes, please."

  Taking my hand, she follows me as I stride up the gangplank onto the aft deck. Mac appears, startling Ana when he opens the sliding doors to the main saloon.

  "Mr. Grey! Welcome back." We shake hands.

  "Anastasia, this is Liam McConnell. Liam, my girlfriend, Anastasia Steele."

  "How do you do?" she says to Liam.

  "Call me Mac. Welcome aboard, Miss Steele."

  "Ana, please."

  "How's she shaping up, Mac?" I ask.

  "She's ready to rock and roll, sir," he says with a huge grin.

  "Let's get under way, then."

  "You going to take her out?" he asks.

  "Yep," I reply. I wouldn't miss this for the world. "Quick tour, Anastasia?"

  We go through the sliding doors. Ana scans the inside, and I know she's impressed. The interior has been created by a Swedish designer based in Seattle, all clean lines and light oak that give the saloon a bright and airy feel. I've adopted the same look throughout The Grace. "This is the main saloon. Galley beside." I wave in its direction. "Bathrooms on either side." I point them out, then lead her through the small door to my cabin. Ana gasps at the sight of the bed. "This is the master cabin. You're the first girl in here, apart from family." I hold her and kiss her. "They don't count. Might have to christen this bed," I whisper against her lips. "But not right now. Come, Mac will be casting off." I lead Ana back into the main saloon. "Office in there, and at the front here, two more cabins."

  "So how many can sleep on board?"

  "It's a six-berth cat. I've only ever had the family on board, though. I like to sail alone. But not when you're here. I need to keep an eye on you." From the chest by the sliding door I extract a bright red life jacket.

  "Here." I slip it over her head and tighten the straps.

  "You love strapping me in, don't you?"

  "In any form." I wink at her.

  "You are a pervert."

  "I know."

  "My pervert," she teases.

  "Yes, yours."

  Once I've fastened the buckles I grab the side of the life jacket and kiss her quickly. "Always," I say, and release her before she can respond. "Come." We go outside and up the steps to the top deck and the cockpit.

  Below, at the dock, Mac is casting off the bow line. He leaps back on board.

  "Is this where you learned all your rope tricks?" Ana is pretending to be naive.

  "Clove hitches have come in handy. Miss Steele, you sound curious. I like you curious. I'd be more than happy to demonstrate what I can do with a rope."

  Ana goes quiet, and I think I've upset her.

  Damn.

  "Gotcha." She giggles, pleased with herself.

  Well, that's not fair. I narrow my eyes. "I may have to deal with you later, but right now I've got to drive my boat." I sit down at the captain's chair and fire up the twin fifty-five-horsepower engines. I switch off the blower and Mac scoots along the top deck, grabbing the guardrail, then bounces down to the aft deck to release the stern lines. He waves at me and I radio the Coast Guard to get the all-clear.

  I take The Grace out of idle, move the shifter forward, and ease the throttle. And my beautiful boat glides out of her berth.

  Ana is waving to the small crowd that has gathered on the dock to witness our departure. I tug her back between
my legs.

  "See this." I point to the VHF. "That's our radio. Our GPS, our AIS, the radar."

  "What's the AIS?"

  "That identifies us to shipping. This is our depth gauge. Grab the wheel."

  "Aye, aye, Captain." She salutes me.

  I pilot us slowly out of the marina, Ana's hands beneath mine on the wheel. We turn into open water and we sweep across the Sound in a large arc until we're heading northwest toward the Olympic Peninsula and Bainbridge Island. The wind is moderate at fifteen knots, but I know once we get the sheets up The Grace will fly. I love this. Challenging myself against the elements in a boat I've helped design, using the skills I've spent a lifetime perfecting. It's thrilling.

  "Sail time," I say to Ana, and I cannot contain my excitement. "Here, you take her. Keep her on this course."

  Ana looks freaked out.

  "Baby, it's really easy. Hold the wheel and keep your eye on the horizon over the bow. You'll do great; you always do. When the sails go up, you'll feel the drag. Just hold her steady. I'll signal like this"--I make a slashing motion with my hand across my throat--"and you can cut the engines. This button here." I point to the engines' kill button. "Understand?"

  "Yes." But she looks uncertain. I know she's got this. She always does. I give her a quick kiss and bound onto the top deck to prep and hoist the main sail. Mac and I crank in unison, making light work of it. When the wind catches the sheet we lurch forward, and I glance at Ana, but she's holding us steady. Mac and I work on the headsail and it flies up the mast, welcoming the wind and harnessing its power.

  "Hold her steady, baby, and cut the engines!" I shout over the roar of the wind and the waves, and I motion to her. Ana presses the button and the roar of the engines ceases as we whip across the sea, flying northwest.

  I join Ana at the wheel. The wind is lashing her hair around her face; she's exhilarated, her cheeks flushed with joy. "What do you think?" I yell, above the call of the sea and the wind.

  "Christian! This is fantastic."

  "You wait until the spinney's up." With my chin I point to Mac, who is raising the spinnaker.

  "Interesting color," Ana shouts.

  I give her a knowing wink. Yep, the color of my playroom.

  The wind pumps up the spinney and The Grace charges ahead, unleashing her power and giving us a thrilling ride. Ana looks from the spinnaker to me. "Asymmetrical sail. For speed," I call out. I've pushed The Grace to twenty knots, but the wind has to be in our favor for that kind of speed.

  "It's amazing!" she shouts. "How fast are we going?"

  "She's doing fifteen knots."

  "I have no idea what that means."

  "It's about seventeen miles an hour."

  "Is that all? It feels much faster."

  Ana is radiant. Her joy is infectious. I squeeze her hands on the wheel. "You look lovely, Anastasia. It's good to see some color in your cheeks, and not from blushing. You look like you do in Jose's photos."

  She turns in my arms and kisses me. "You know how to show a girl a good time, Mr. Grey."

  "We aim to please, Miss Steele." She turns back to face the bow and I smooth the hair away from her neck and kiss her. "I like seeing you happy," I murmur in her ear, and we careen across Puget Sound.

  WE ANCHOR IN THE cove near Hedley Spit on Bainbridge Island. Together, Mac and I lower the dinghy so he can go ashore and visit a friend in Point Monroe. "I'll see you in about an hour, Mr. Grey." He descends into the small boat, gives Ana a wave, and fires up the outboard motor.

  I vault up to the aft deck where Ana is standing and grab her hand. I don't need to watch Mac speed toward the lagoon; I have more pressing business to attend to.

  "What are we going to do now?" Ana asks, as I take her into the saloon.

  "I have plans for you, Miss Steele." And with indecent haste, I drag her into my cabin. She's smiling as I make quick work of her life jacket and toss it to the floor. Once it's off, she stares at me, remaining mute, but her teeth tease her bottom lip, and I don't know if it's deliberate or an unconscious lure.

  I want to make love to her.

  On my boat.

  It will be another first.

  Caressing her face with the tips of my fingers, I slowly move them down to her chin, her neck, and her sternum to the first closed button on her blouse. Her eyes never waver from mine. "I want to see you." With my thumb and forefinger, I undo the button. She stands absolutely still, her breathing accelerated.

  I know she's mine to do with as I please. My girl.

  I stand back to give her some room. "Strip for me," I whisper. Her lips part and her eyes blaze with desire. Slowly she brings her fingers up to her next fastened button, and at a snail's pace undoes it, then moves at the same infuriating pace to the next one.

  Fuck.

  She's taunting me. Minx.

  When the final button is undone she pulls her shirt apart and shrugs out of it, letting it fall to the floor.

  She's wearing a white lacy bra, her nipples taut against the lace, and she's a fine, fine sight. Her fingers run down past her navel and toy with the top button of her jeans.

  Sweetheart, you need to take your shoes off.

  "Stop. Sit." I point to the edge of the bed and she complies.

  I fall to my knees and undo the laces of first one and then the other sneaker, pulling them off, followed by her socks.

  I pick up her foot and kiss the soft pad of her big toe, then graze it with my teeth.

  "Ah," she breathes, and the sound is music to my dick.

  Let her do this her way, Grey.

  Standing, I hold out my hand and pull her up from the bed. "Continue." I give her the floor and step back to enjoy the show.

  With a wanton look at me, she undoes the button and tugs down her zipper at the same slow pace. She hooks her thumbs into her waistband and slowly shimmies out of her jeans, sliding them down her legs.

  She's wearing a thong.

  A thong.

  Wow.

  She unfastens her bra and slides the straps down her arms before dropping it on the floor.

  I want to touch her.

  And I clench my fists to stop myself.

  She slips off her thong and lets it fall to her ankles, where she steps out of it and stands before me.

  She is all woman.

  And I want her.

  All of her.

  Her body, her heart, and her soul.

  You have her heart, Grey. She loves you.

  I grab the hem of my sweater and pull it over my head, then my T-shirt. I slip out of my shoes and socks. Her eyes never leave mine.

  Her look is scorching.

  I move to undo my jeans. She puts her hand over mine. "Let me," she whispers.

  I'm impatient to get out of my jeans, but I give her a big smile. "Be my guest."

  She steps forward and slips her hand over the waistband of my jeans and tugs so I'm forced to take a step closer to her. She undoes the top button, but she doesn't undo the zipper. Instead, her intrepid fingers meander from the zipper to trace the straining outline of my cock. Instinctively, I flex my hips, pushing my erection into her hand. "You're getting so bold, Ana, so brave." I cradle her face with my hands and kiss her, easing my tongue into her mouth while she places her hands on my hips and circles her thumbs against my skin, just above the waistband of my jeans.

  "So are you," she breathes against my lips.

  "Getting there," I answer.

  She tugs down my fly, pushes her hand inside my pants, and takes hold of my cock. I growl in appreciation and my lips find hers as I fold her in my arms, feeling her soft skin against mine.

  The darkness is gone.

  She knows where to touch me.

  And how to touch me.

  Her hand tightens around me, squeezing hard, and her hand moves up and down, pleasuring me. I tolerate a few moves, then whisper, "Oh, I want you so much, baby." I step back and remove my pants and underwear and stand before her naked, ready.

 
Her eyes scan my body, but as she does that v appears between her brows.

  "What's wrong, Ana?" I ask, and gently stroke her cheek. Is she reacting to my scars?

  "Nothing. Love me, now," she says.

  Embracing her, I kiss her with fervor, my fingers tangling in her hair. I'll never get enough of her mouth. Her lips. Her tongue. I walk her backward and gently lower both of us onto the bed. Lying by her side, I run my nose along her jawline, inhaling deeply.

  Orchards. Apples. Summer and a mellow fall.

  She's all of those things.

  "Do you have any idea how exquisite your scent is, Ana? It's irresistible." With my lips, I trace a line down her throat, across her breasts, kissing her as I go, breathing in her essence as I travel down her body.

  "You are so beautiful." I suck gently on a nipple.

  She moans and her body bows off the bed.

  The sound makes me harder. "Let me hear you, baby." I cup her breast, then move to her waist, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin under my fingers. I move past her hip, her ass, down to her knee while I kiss and suckle her breasts. Holding her knee, I hitch up her leg and curl it over my hips.

  She gasps, and I revel in her reaction.

  Rolling over, I take her with me so she's on top of me. I hand her a condom from the side table.

  Her delight is clear and she scoots down so that she's sitting on my thighs. She grabs my erection and leans down and kisses the tip. Her hair falls, forming a curtain around my cock as she takes me into her mouth.

  Fuck. It's erotic.

  She consumes me, sucking hard, skimming her teeth over me.

  I groan and flex my hips so I'm deeper in her mouth.

  She lets me go, tears open the foil packet, and unrolls the condom on my rigid dick. I hold out my hands to help her balance, and she takes them both, and slowly, oh-so-slowly, sinks down on me.

  Oh, God.

  It's so good.

  I close my eyes and tip my head back as she takes me. And I give myself over to her.

  She moans and I place my hands on her hips and move her up and then down as I push up, consuming her. "Oh, baby," I whisper, and I want more. So much more.

  I sit up so we're nose to nose and I'm cradling her ass with my thighs, and I'm buried deep inside her. She gasps and grabs my arms as I hold her head and stare into her beautiful eyes, eyes that shine with her love and desire.

  "Oh, Ana. What you make me feel," I say, and kiss her with unbridled passion.

  "Oh, I love you," she says, and I close my eyes.

  Ana loves me.

  I roll her over, her legs locked around my waist, and look down at her in wonder.

  I love you, too. More than you'll ever know.

  Slowly, tenderly, gently, I start to move, relishing every treasured inch of her.