"Life-affirming," he repeats, astonished hti-
I nod. He gazes at me for a moment. "Don't bite your lip," he whispers then
rises suddenly with ic in h inn I gasp am rah his b ps fearful that he'll
drop me. He walks on or to the smallesl of the three eouehes and deposits me on to
"Wait here. Don'; nun e." I Ic gi es me a brief hot. intense look and turns on
his heel, stalking toward the bedroom. Oh . . . Christian barefoot. Why are his feet
so hot? He's back a few moments later, taking me by surprise as he leans over me
from behind.
"1 think we'll dispense with this." He grabs my T-shirt and drags it ox er my
head, leaving me naked except for my panties. He pulls my ponytail back and
"Stand up," he orders against my lips and releases me I comply immediately .
He lays a towel out on the sola.
"Take your panties off."
I swallow bm do as I'm told, discarding them by the sofa.
"Sit." He grabs i i I I back. " ou'll tell me to
slop if this gels too much, yes'.'"
I nod.
"Say it." His voice is stern.
He smirks. "Good. So, Mrs. Grey ... by popular demand, I'm going to re-
strain you." His voice drops to a breathless whisper. Desire streaks through my
body like lightning simply at those words. Oh, my sweet Fifty — on the sofa?
"Bring your knees up." he commands softly . "" nd sir right back "
I rest my feet on the edge of the sofa, my knees up in front of me. He reaches
for my left leg, and taking the bell from one of the bathroom robes, he ties one
end aboc my knee.
"Bathrobes?"
"I'm improvising." 1 1c smirk-, again mill fastens the slipknot above my knee
and ties the other end of the soft belt around the finial at the back corner of the
sola. cffcclieh parting m legs.
"Don't move," he warns and repeals the process w ith ni right leg, tying the
second cord to the other finial.
Oh my ... 1 am silling up. splayed oul on the so Hi. legs spread wide.
' >1 i 1 I Pi, 1 ol'll ng down at me from I hit he i
I nod, expecting him to tie my hands, too. But he refrains. He bends and
"Yon have no idea how hoi you look right now," he murmurs and rubs his
nose against mine. "Change of music. 1 think." He stands and strolls casually over
to the iPod dock.
How does he do this? Here I am. trussed up and horny as hell, while he's so
cool and calm. He's just in my field of v ision, and 1 w atch the flex and pull of the
muscles of his back under his T-shirt as he changes the song. Immediately, a
Oh, I like this song.
Christian turns and iris eyes lock on mine as he moves around io ihe front of
the sola and sinks gracefully to his knees jn from of mc.
eh palm from a small clear bottle. It's scented — a rich, musky, sensuous scent
at I can't place.
"Rub your hands." I squirm beneath his hot, heavy gaze. "Keep still," he
"Now, Anastasia, I want you to touch yourself."
Holy cow.
"Start at your throat and work down."
The sweet voice sings that there's nothing sweet about her. I place my hands
against my throat and let them slide down to the top of my breasts. The oil makes
them glide efl'orllcssh mcrnn skin. My hand* are warm.
"Lowu Chrisli i I lii 1 touch me.
My hands cup my breasts.
"Tease yourself."
Oh my. 1 tug gently on my nipples.
"Harder," Christian urges. He sits immobile between my thighs, just watch-
Like I would." he adds. I 1 clench deep
stiffen and lengthen beneath my touch.
"Yes. Like that. Again."
Closing im ei lp II hard rolling ind 1 .ling them between my lingers. I
"Open your eyes."
"Oh, I will — soon. You. Lower. Now." Christian, exuding sensuality, runs his
ti ngi .ill 1c ill l lithe, i id n t the i n
I le shakes his head, slowly. "Still." He rests his hands on my knees, holding
me in place. "Come on, Ana — lower."
My hands glide over my stomach down over my belly.
"Lower," he mouths, and he is carnalit; personified.
""Christian, please."
His hands glide down from im knees, skimming m thighs, toward my sex.
"Come on, Ana. Touch yourself"
My left hand skims over my sex. and I rub in a slow circle, my monlh an as
""Again." he whispers.
1 groan lender and repeal die nunc and dp m head back, gasping.
I moan loudly, and Clirislian inhales sharply . (irabbing my hands, he bends
down, running his nose then his longnc back and forth at the apex of m> thighs.
"Ah!"
1 want to touch him, but when I try to move my hands, his fingers tighten
around my wrists.
"I'll restrain these, too. Keep still."
I groan. He tele i me then i It fn inside rac the heel
of his hand resting against my clitoris.
"I'm going to make you come quickly, Ana. Ready?"
"Yes." I pant.
that sweet spot inside me and my clitoris at the same time. Ah! The feeding is in-
tense — really mten Pleasm I i I id I die low u half of my
body. I want to stretch my legs, but I can't. My hands claw at the towel beneath
"Surrender," Christian whispers.
I explode around Ins I u cry in ui i c< n II pi esses the heel of
his hand agaiiisl m clitoris as die aftershocks run through my body, prolonging
the delicious igom g I I'm u lha i untying my legs.
my knees on the floor. He spreads my legs and slaps me hard across my behind.
"Oh, Ana he hissi i i h I ichci cell) i^l n to move. His fingers
grip me hard around my hips as he grinds into me over and over. And I'm build-
ing again. No . . . Ah . . .
"Come on, Ana!" Christian shouts, and I shatter once more, pulsing around
him and crying out as I come.
"Life-affirming enough lot you?" Christian kisses my hair.
"Oh, yes," I mn n nr. gazii up il tin eiling i in 1 it . on my husband, my
back lo his front, both of us on the floor beside the sofa. He's still dressed.
"I think we should go again. No clothes for you this time."
"Christ, Ana. Give a man a chance."
I giggle and he chuckles. "I'm glad Ray's conscious. Seems all your appetites
ire bat i i lisguising ll i i i i il>.
1 turn over and scowl at him. "Are you forgetting about last night and this
morning?" 1 pout.
'"Nothing forgettable about either of those." If: gruts. and when lie does, lie
looks so young md l i h lie cups n > on have a fantastic
ass, Mrs. Grey."
"So do you." I arch a brow at him. "Though yours is still under cover."
"And what are you going to do about that. Mrs. Grey'.'"
"Why, I'm going to undress you, Mr. Grey. All of you."
He grins.
"And I think there's a lot that's sweet about ou." 1 murmur, referring to the
song still playing on repeat. I lis smile fades
Oh no.
"You ate 1 whis| r. 1 lean d i ! i ih o net ol 1 i n ith I I
his eyes and tightens his arms around me.
"Christian, you are. You made this weekend so special — in spite of what
happened to Ray. Thank you."
i 1 | in I n ession tugs at my heart
"I know. I love you, too." I caress his face. "And you're precious to me, too.
You do know that, don't you?"
His stills, looking lost.
Oh, Christian . . . my sweet Fifty.
"Believe me," I whisper.
"It's not easy." His voice is almost inaudible.
"Try. Try hard, because it's true." I stroke his face once more, my fingers
brushing against his sideburns. His eyes are gray oceans of loss and hurt and pain.
I want to climb into his bod-, and nolo him. Anything to slop that look. When will
I t the w orld I i ! n love.
the love of his parents — his siblings? I have told him over and over, and yet here
we arc as Christian gives me his lost- abandoned look. Time. It will just take time.
"You'll get cold. Come." lie rises gracciill_ to his feci and pulls me up to
stand beside him. I slip my arm around his waist as we wander back into the bed-
room. I won't push him, but since Ray's accident, it's become more important to
me that he knows how much I love him.
As we enter the bedroom, I frown, desperate to recover the very welcome
lighthearted mood of only a few moments ago.
"Shall we watch TV?" I ask.
Christian snorts. "I was hoping for round two." And my mercurial Fifty is
back. I arch my brow and stop by the bed.
"Well, in that case, I think I'll be in charge."
lie gapes at me. and I push hint onto the bed and quickly straddle him, pin-
ning his hands down beside his head.
He grins up at me. "Well, Mrs. Grey, now that you've got me, what are you
going to do with me?"
I lean down and whisper in his ear, "I am going to fuck you with my mouth."
He closes Ins eyes li > i Itarpl ill n in ill H li I ja
"I was just working." lie shifts as he kisses my hair.
"What?" I ask. sensing xmiclhing wrong.
He sighs. "I got an e-mail from Detective Clark. He wants to talk to you
about that fucker Hyde."
"Really?" I sit back to gaze at Christian.
"Yes. I told him you're in Portland for the time being, so he'll have to wait.
Bin he sas he'd like to interview oli here."
"He's coming here?"
"Apparently so." Christian looks bemused.
I frown. "What's so important that can't wait?"
"Exactly."
"When's he coming?"
"Today. I'll e-mail him back."
"I have nothing to hide. I wonder what he wants to know?"
"We'll find out w hen he gels here. 1 in intrigued, too." ( hristian shifts again.
I nod. "You can stay here if you want. I can see you're busy."
"Okay." I grin, and wrap my arm* around his neck and kiss him.
Ray is bad-tempered. It's a joy. lie's itchy, scratchy, impatient, and
uncomfortable.
"Dad, you've been in a major ear accident. Ii will take time to heal. Christian
"I don': know w In yui'rc hoihenng w iih me. I ll he line here on im ow n "
1 1 ii I ^ a I e his hand nil i*. ill i i
"Do you need anything'.'"
"I could murder a doughnut, Annie."
I grin indulgently at him. "I'll get you a doughnut or two. We'll go to
Voodoo."
"Great!"
"You want some decent coffee, too?"
"Hell yeah!"
"Okay, I'll go get some."
hrisliai i I ling room, kill lie phone. 1 1 ! > i
set up office in here. WeirdK. lie's b himself, although the other ICU beds are
occupied. I wonder if Christian's frightened off ill.: oilier isilors. lie hangs up.
"Clark will be here at four this afternoon."
I frown. What could be so urgent? "Okay. Ray wants coffee and doughnuts."
Christian laughs. "I think I would too if I'd been in an accident. Ask Taylor
to go."
"No, I'll go."
"Take Taylor with you." His voice is stern.
"Okay." 1 roll my eyes and lie glares Then lie smirks and cocks his head to
"There's no one here." I lis voice is deliciously low . and I know he's threaten-
ing to spank me. I am about to dare him, when a young couple enters the room.
She is weeping softly.
I shrug apologetically at Christian, and he nods. He picks up his laptop, takes
my hand, and leads mc out of the room. "They need the privacy more than we
do." Christian murmurs. "W e ll have our fun later."
Outside Tayloi i i i I I i I I nd doughi
At four o'clock precisely there's a knock on the suite door. Taylor ushers in
Dclcclivc Clark, who looks more bad-tempered than usual. He always seems to
look bad-tempered. Perhaps it's the way his face is set.
"Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey, thank you for seeing me."
"Detective Clark." Christian shakes his hand and directs him to a seat. I sit
down on the sofa where I enjoyed myself so much last night. The thought makes
mc blush.
"It's Mrs. Grey 1 wish to see," Clark says pointedly to Christian and to Taylor
stationed beside the door. Christian glances then nods almost imperceptibly at
Taylor who turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him.
"Anything you wish to say to my wife you can say in front of me." Christi-
an's voice is cool and businesslike. f)clccli e ( lark turns to me.
"Are you sure you'd like your husband to be present?"
1 frown at him. "Of course. 1 have nothing to hide. You arc just interviewing
mc?"
"I'd like my husband to stay."
"All right," murmurs Clark, resigned. He clears his throat. "Mrs. Grey, Mr.
Hyde maintains that sou sexual!-, harassed him and made secral lewd advances
toward him."
Oh! 1 almost hurst out laughing, hut put my hand on C hristian's thigh to re-
strain him as he shifts forward in his seat.
"That's preposterous." Christian splutters. I squeeze Christian's leg to silence
"Thai's not true." I state calmly, "hi fact, it was the olher way around, lie
propositioned mc in i i iggress en innei md he was fired."
Detective Clark's mouth flattens brielly into a, thin line before he continues.
"Hyde alleges that you fabricated a tale about sexual harassment in order to
get him fired. He say s that on did this because he refused your advances and bc-
1 frown. Holy crap. Jack is even more delusional than I thought/That's not
true." I shake my head.
"Detective, please don't tell me you have driven all this way to harass my
wife with these ridiculous accusations."
Detective Clark turns his steely blue glare on Christian. "1 need to hear this
from Mrs. Grey, sir," he says with quid restraint, i squeeze Christian's leg once
more, silently imploring him to keep his cool.
"You don't have to listen to this shit, Ana."
"I think I should let Detective Clark know what happened."
Christian gazes at me impassively for a beat then waves his hand in a gesture
"What Hyde says is simply not true." My voice sounds calm, although I feel
anything but. I'm bewildered by these accusations and nervous that Christian
might explode. Whin Jack »/»«•:' "Mr. i l do accosted mc in ihc office kitchen
one c cning. He told me that it was thanks to him that I had been hired and that he
expected sexual favors in return. He tried to blackmail me, using e-mails that I'd
sent to Christian, who wasn't my husband then. I didn't know Hyde had been
monitoring my e-mails, lie's delusional he ecn accuse; me of being a spy sent
by Christian, presumably to help him take over the company. He didn't know that
Christian had already bought SIP." I shake my head as I recall my distressing,
tense encounter with Hyde.
"In the end, I-I took him down."
Clark's eyebrows rise in surprise. "Took him down?"
"My lather is ex-army. Hyde . . urn. touched mc. and I know how to defend
Christian glances at me with a brief look of pride.
"1 sec." Clark leans back on the sofa, sighing heavily.
"Have you spoken to any of Hyde's former PAs?" Christian asks almost
genially.
than three months."
Oh? I gape at Christian as docs Detccln e Clark.
".My security chief. He's interviewed Hyde's past five PAs."
"And why's that?"
Christian gives him a steely glare. "Because my wife worked for him, and I
run security checks on anyone my wife works with."
Detecthc Clark 11 n 1 i pologc ill I him ill i wclcome-to-my-
world smile.
"1 sec," Clark murmurs. "I think there's more to tins than meets the eye, Mr.
(ire;. . We arc conducting a more thorough search of his apartment tomorrow, so
mabc somelhing will present itself then. Though b till ticeotints he hasn't lived
there for some time."
"Vou'e searched already'.'"
"Yes. We're doing i n , fin erti| c i this lime."
"You've still not charged him with the attempted murder of Ros Bailey and
my .11 i hi t in ,a - oftl
What?
"We're hoping to find more evidence in regard to the sabotage of your air-
crafl. Mr. Grey. We need mure than a partial prim, and while he's in custody, we
"Is this all you came down here for?"
(. lark bristles. "Yes. Mr. drey, it is, unless you've had any further thoughts
about the note?"
Note? What note?
"No. I told you. It means nothing to me." Christian cannot hide his irritation.
"I think I told you I prefer a hands-on approach. And I'm visiting my great-
aunt who lives in Portland — two birds ... one stone." Clark remains stony faced
and unfazed by my husband's bad temper.
"Well, if we're all done, I have work to attend to." Christian stands and
Detective Clark follows his cue
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Grey," he says politely.
"Mr. Grey." Christian opens the door, and Clark lea cs.
"Can you believe that asshole?" t hrislian explodes.
"Clark?"
"No. That fucker, Hyde."
"No, I can't."
"What's his fucking game'.'" ( hi islian whispers through grilled teeth.
"I don't know. Do u think ( i I lievedn
"Of course he did. He knows Hyde is a fucked-up asshole."
"You're very sweary."
"Sw can '.'" Christian smirks. "Is that even a word?"
Unexpectedly he grins and sits down beside me. pulling me into his arms.
"Don't think about that fucker. Let's go see your dad and try to talk about the
"He was adamant that he wanted to stay in Portland and not be a bother."
"I'll talk to him."
"I want to travel with him."
Christian gazes at me, and for a moment, I think he's going to say no. "Okay.
I'll come, too. Sawyer and Taylor can take the cars. I'll let Sawyer drive your R8
tonight."
The following day Ray is examining his new surroundings — an airy, light, room
in the rehabilitation center of Northwest Hospital in Seattle. It's noon, and he
] riie jiHin lil has eh led i n
:an tell him yourself. He'll he along this e ening."
"Probably. I just want to make sure you're settled in here."
iu get along. You don't need to worry about me."
ke worrying about you. My BlackBerry buzzes. I check the number — it's
I recognize.
iu going to answer that?" Ra asks.
1. 1 don't know who it is. The voice mail can take it for me. I brought on
lg to read." I indicate the pile of sports
He nods.
"I'll let you get some sleep." I kiss his forehead. "Latere, Daddy," I murmur.
"I'll see you later, honey. And thank you." Ray catches my hand and
squeezes it gently. "I like that you call me Daddy. Takes me back."
Oh, Daddy. I return his squeeze.
As 1 head out the main doors toward the SUV where Sawyer is waiting, I
hear my name being called.
"Mrs. Grey! Mrs. Grey!"
Turning. 1 sec Dr. Greene hurrying toward me, looking her usual immaculate
self, if a little flustered.
"Mrs. Grey, how are sou? Did >ou gel m message? I called earlier."
"No." My scalp prickles.
"Well I was uonderi I cancel nir a| an i
Four appointments? I gape at her. I've missed four appointments! How?
"Perhaps we should talk about this in my office. I was going out for
lunch — do you have lime right now?"
I nod meekly. "Sure. I . . ." Words fail me. I've missed four appointments?
I follow her in a daze back into the hospital and up to her office. How did I
"My father's been i
"Oh, I'm so sorry. How's he doing?"
"1 le's doing okay, thank you. (in [lie mend."
"That's good. And it explains why you cancelled on Friday."
Dr. Greene wiggles the mouse on her desk, and Iter computer comes to life.
"Yes . . . it's been over thirteen weeks. You're cutting it a bit close. We'd
better do a test before we give you another shot."
"A test?" 1 whisper, all the blood rushing from my head.
"A pregnane} test."
Oh, no.
She readies into Ihc drawer ol' lies desk. "Yon know what lo do with litis."
She hands me a small container. "The restroom is just outside my office."
1 get up as if in a trance, my whole body operating as if on automatic pilot
and I stumble to the restroom.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. How could I have let this happen . . . again? I sud-
denly feel sick and oiler a sileni prayer. Pleac no. Pkuw no. It's too soon. It's
When I reenter Dr. Greene's office, site gives me a light smile and waves me
to the seat in front of her desk. I sit down and wordlessly hand her my sample.
She dips a small white stick into it and watches. She raises her eyebrows as it
turns pale blue.
"What does blue mean?" The tension is almost choking mc.
She looks up at me, her eyes serious. "Well, Mrs. Grey, it means you're
pregnant."
What? No. No. No. Fuck.
I gape at Dr. Greene, my world collapsing around me. A baby. A baby. I don't
want a baby ... not yet. Fuck. And 1 know deep down that Christian is going to
freak.
"Mrs. Grey, you're crv pale. oukl on like a glass of water?"
"Please." My voice is a barely audible. My mind is racing. Pregnant? When?
"I take it you're surprised."
I nod mutely at the good doctor as she hands me a glass of water from her
com cniemly placed water cooler. I take a welcome sip. "Shocked," I whisper.
"We could do an ultrasound to sec lum adanced ilie pregnancy is. Judging
by your reaction, I suspect you're just a couple of weeks or so from concep-
tion — four or five weeks pregnant. I take it you haven't been suffering any oilier
symptoms?
I shake my head mutely. Symptoms? I don't think so. "I thought ... I thought
this was a reliable form of contraceptive."
Dr. Greene arches a brim. "Il normally is. when you remember to have the
shot." she says coolly.
"I must have lost track of time." Christian is going to freak. I know it.
"Have you been bleeding at all?"
I frown. "No."
"That's normal for the Depo. Let's do an ultrasound shall we? I have time."
I nod, bewildered, and Dr. Greene directs me toward a black leather exam
table behind a screen.
"If you'll just slip off your skirt, underwear, and cover yourself with the
blanket on the table, we'll go from there." she sas briskly.
Underwear? I was expecting an ultrasound scan over my belly. Why do I
need to remove my panties? I hrug in consternation then quickly do as she says
and lie di I th th I hit lanl
"'Thai's good." Dr. Greene appears at the end of lite table, pulling the ultra-
sound machine closer. It's a hi-tech stack of computers. Sitting down, she posi-
ns th i I ! 1 i II th I
The screen pings into life.
"If you could lib ami bend our knees, then pan them w ide." she sas matler-
of-factly.
I frown warily.
"This is a transvaginal ultrasound. II' you're only just pregnant, we should be
able to find the baby w ith this." Site holds up a long white probe.
Oh, you have got to be kidding!
"Okay," I mutter, mortified, and do as she says. Greene pulls a condom over
the wand and lubricates it with clear gel.
"Mrs. Grey, if you could relax."
Relax'.- I'm pregnant, damn it! 1 1 I tin
endeavor to find my happy place . . . which has relocated somewhere near the lost
Island of Atlantis.
Slowly and gently she inserts the probe.
Holy fuck!
All I can see on the screen is the visual equivalent of white noise — although
it's more sepia in color. Slowly, Dr. Greene moves the probe about, and it's very
disconcerting.
"There," she murmurs. She presses a button, freezing the picture on the
screen, and points to a liny blip in the sepia storm.
It's a little blip. There's a tiny little blip in my belly. Tiny. Wow. I forget my
discomfort as 1 state shell-shocked at the blip.
"It's too early to see the heartbeat, but yes, you're definitely pregnant. Four
or five weeks, I would say." She frowns. "Looks like the shot ran out early. Oh
1 am too stunned to say anything. The little blip is a baby. A real honest to
goodness baby. Christian's baby. My baby. Holy cow. A baby!
"Would you like me to print out a picture for you?"
I nod, still unable to speak, and Dr. Greene presses a button. Then she gently
removes the wand and hands me a paper towel to clean myself.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Grey," she says as 1 sit up. "We'll need to make an-
other appointment. I suggest in four weeks' time. Then we can ascertain the exact
ugv ol"> our baby and set a likely due date. You can gel dressed now."
"Okay." I'm reeling and I dress hurriedly. I have a blip, a little blip. When I
emerge from behind the screen. Dr. Greene is back at her desk.
"In the meantime, I'd like you to start this course of folic acid and prenatal
itamiits. 1 lore's a leaflet of dos and don'ls."
but I'm not listening. I'm in shock. Overwhelmed. Surely I should be happy.
Surely I should bo thirty . at least. This is too soon far too soon. I try to quell
my rising sense of panic.
I wish Dr. Greene a polite good-bye and head in a daze back down to the exit
and out into the cool fall afternoon. I'm gripped suddenly by a creeping cold and
deep sense of foiebi ling I I in oing to ft il I t but how much and
how far, I have no idea. His words haunt me. "I'm not ready to share you yet." I
pull my j acket tighter around me, trying to shake off the cold.
Sawyer leaps out of the SUV and holds open the door. He frowns when he
sees my face, but 1 ignore his concerned expression.
"Where to, Mrs. Grey?" he asks gently.
"SIP." I nestle into the biicUcut of I he car. closing m> eyes and leaning my
head on the headrest. 1 should he happy. ) know 1 should be happy. But I'm not.
This is too early. Far too early. What about my job? What about SIP? What about
Christian and me? No. No. No. We'll be fine. He'll be fine. He loved baby
Mia— I remember Carrick telling me — he dotes on her now. Perhaps I should
warn Hynn . . . Perhaps I shouldn't tell Christian. Perhaps I . . . perhaps I should
end this. I halt my thoughts on that lark path harmed it the direction they're tak-
ing. Instinctively my hand sweeps down to rest protectively over my belly. No.
My little Blip. Tears spring to my eyes. What am I going to do?
A vision of a link In ith e ppet olored hail md bright gray eyes, running
through the meadow at the new house imades ms thoughts, teasing and tantaliz-
ing me with possibilities lie's gi gl ig -I qu line il delight as Christian
as we walk hand in hand back to the house.
My vision morphs into Christian turning away I'rom me 111 disgust. I'm fat
and awkward, heu it i I I I I i i n i I 1 I tots away from me,
the sound of his footsteps echoing off the silvered glass, walls, and floor.
1 jerk awake. No. I Ie's going to freak out.
hen Saw; er pulls up outside SIP. I leap out and head into the building.
"Ana. great to see you. 1 low 's your dad'.'" i lannah asks as soon as 1 teach my
office. I regard her coolly.
"He's better, thank you. Can I see you in my office?"
mi Sh I urprisei ss ( | siiu i Isesct thing okay?"
"I need to know if you've moved or cancelled any appointments with Dr.
"Dr. Greene? Yes, I have. About two or three of them. Mostly because you
were in other meetings or running late. Why?"
Because now I't J i ml i hei n had I take a deep,
steadying breath. "If you move any appointments, will you make sure 1 know? I
don't always check my calendar."
"Sure," Hannah says quietly. "I'm sorry. Have I done something w rong'.'"
1 shake my head ami sigh loudls. -fan sou make me some tea? Then let's
discuss what's been happening while I've been away."
"Sure. I'll jump to it." Brightening, she heads out of the office.
1 gaze after her departing figure. "You see that woman?" I talk quietly to the
Blip. "She might be the reason you're here." I pat my belly then feel like a com-
plete idiot, because I am talking to the blip. My tiny little Blip. I shake my head,
exasperated at myself and at Hannah . . . though deep down I know I can't really
blame Hannah. Despondently 1 switch on my computer. There's an e-mail from
Christian.
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Missing You
Date: September 13, 2011 13:58
To: Anastasia Grey
Mrs. Grey
I've been back in the office for only three hours, and I'm missing you already.
I'll collect you around six this evening, and we can go and see him before heading
Sound good?
Your loving husband
Christian Grey
CEO, (ircj Enterprises Holdings Inc.
I type a quick response.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Missing You
Date: September 13, 2011 14:10
To: Christian Grey
Sure.
Anastasia Grey
Commissioning Editor, SIP
From: Christian Grey
Subject: Missing You
Date: September 13, 2011 14:14
To: Anastasia Grey
Christian Grey
CEO 1 Enterprisi Iloldin in
No. Christian. I'm not. I'm freaking on! abonl yon freaking out. I don't know
what to do. But I am not going to tell you via e-mail.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Missing You
Date: September 13, 2011 14:17
To: Christian Grey
Fine. Just busy.
Commissioning Editor, SIP
When will I tell him? Tonight? Maybe after sex? Maybe during sex. No, that
might be dangerous for both of us. When he's asleep? I put my head in my hands.
What the hell am I going to do?
"Hi," Christian says warily as I climb into the SUV.
"Hi," I murmur.
"What's wrong?" He frowns. I shake my head as Taylor sets off toward the
hospital.
"Nothing." Maybe now? I could tell him now when we're in a contained
space and Taylor is with us.
"'Yes. Fine. Thanks."
""Ana. w lull's w rung?" His lone is a little more Ion el'nl. and I chicken out.
"I've just missed you, that's all. And I've been worried about Ray."
Christian visibly relaxes. "Ray's good. I spoke to Mom this afternoon and
she's impressed wit 1 i i i I Boy, your hand is
cold. Have you eaten today?"
I blush.
"Ana." Christian scolds me, annoyed.
Well, 1 haven't eaten because I know you're going to go bat-shit crazy when I
tell you I'm pregnant.
"I'll eat this ex citing. I Itaxen'l really had time."
I le shakes his head in frustration. "Do you want me to add 'feed my w ife' to
the security detail's list of duties?"
"I'm sorry. I'll eat. It's just been a weird day. You know, moving Dad and
all."
His lips press into ;. haul line, bin he sa>s nothing. I gaze out the window.
Tell him! My subconscious hisses. No. I'm a coward.
Christian interrupts my reverie. "I may have to go to Taiw an."
"Oh. When?"
"Later this week. Maybe next week."
"Okay."
"I want you to come with me."
I swallow. "Christian, please. I have my job. Let's not rehash this argument
He sighs and pi ills lik. Mill nagei Hi ughl I'd ask," he mutters
petulantly.
"How long will you go for?"
"Not more than a couple of days. I wish you'd tell me what's bothering you."
How can he tell? "Well, now that my beloved husband is going away . . ."
Christian kisses my knuckles. "I won't be away for long."
"Good." I smile weakly at him.
Ray is much brighter and a lot less grumpy when we see him. I'm touched by his
quiet gratitude to Christian, and for a moment I forget about my impending news
as I sit and listen u lie i In lg < I i ; 1 i , Bu he tires easily.
"Daddy, we'll leave you to sleep."
"Thanks, Ana honey. I like that you drop by. Saw your mom today, too,
"She's not cra/ about fishing, though." Christian sa , w r l as he rises.
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I kiss him. My subconscious purses her lips.
That's provided Christian hasn't locked you away ... or worse. My spirits take a
nosedive.
"Come." Christum holds out his hand, frowning at me. I lake it and we leave
the hospital.
1 pick at my food. It's Mrs, Jones's chicken chasseur, bul I'm just not hungry. My
n is kn rtled i ighl ball ol'ai c
"Damn it! Ana. will you tell me what's wrong?" Christian pushes his empty
plate away, irritated. I gaze at him. "Please. You're driving me crazy."
I swallow and try to subdue the panic rising in my throat. I take a deep
steadying breath. It's now or never. "I'm pregnant."
1 1c stills, and very slowly all the color drains from his face. "What?" he whis-
pers, ashen.
"I'm pregnant."
His brow furrows with incomprehension. "How?"
i low ... how? has son of ridiculous question is that? 1 blush, and gie him
a quizzical how -do-y ou-lhink look
lit t i i unci eyes hard to Hit ir shot?" h
Oh shit.
"Did you forget your shot?"
I just gaze at him unable to speak. Jeez, he's mad — really mad.