Grey

wander back into the main room, sit down at the small dining table, and help myself to some coffee.
She joins me a few minutes later.
“Eat,” I order, motioning for her to take a seat. She stares at me, transfixed, her eyes glazed. “Anastasia,” I say, interrupting her daydream. Her eyelashes flutter as she comes back from wherever she’s been.
“I’ll have some tea. Can I take a croissant for later?” she asks hopefully.
She’s not going to eat.
“Don’t rain on my parade, Anastasia.”
“I’ll eat later, when my stomach’s woken up. About seven thirty, okay?”
“Okay.” I can’t force her.
She looks defiant and stubborn. “I want to roll my eyes at you,” she says.
Oh, Ana, bring it on.
“By all means, do, and you will make my day.”
She looks up at the fire sprinkler on

I craved the escape that fiction provided. He didn’t need an escape.

Why didn’t you tell me there was danger? Why didn’t you warn me? Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these tricks…

Ana. Stay with me. You’re mine. I love you, too.

My mood has lifted as I head to the hotel gym.
She sent me a kiss…

Who would have thought that under that shy exterior she has the soul of a siren?

finally I can sample her: mint and tea and an orchard of mellow fruitfulness. She tastes every bit as good as she looks.

chucks with a short-sleeved navy jacket and a white T-shirt beneath. Are jeans and chucks her signature look? While not very convenient, they do flatter her shapely legs. Her eyes, disarming as ever, widen as I approach.
“Miss Steele, we meet again.” She takes my extended hand and for a moment I want to squeeze hers and raise it to my lips.
Don’t be absurd, Grey.
She turns her delicious pink and waves in the direction of her friend, who is standing too close, waiting for my attention.
“Mr. Grey, this is Katherine Kavanagh,” she says. With reluctance I release her and turn to the persistent Miss Kavanagh. She’s tall, striking, and well groomed, like her father, but she has her mother’s eyes, and I have her to thank for my introduction to the delightful Miss Steele. That thought makes me feel a little more benevolent toward her.
“The tenacious Miss Kavanagh. How do you do? I trust you’re feeling better? Anastasia said you were unwell last week.”
“I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Grey.”
She has a firm, confident handshake, and I doubt she’s ever faced a day of hardship in her privileged life. I wonder why these women are friends. They have nothing in common.
“Thank you for taking the time to do this,” Katherine says.
“It’s a pleasure,” I reply, and glance at Anastasia, who rewards me with her telltale flush.
Is it just me who makes her blush? The thought pleases me.
“This is José Rodriguez, our photographer,” Anastasia says, and her face lights up as she introduces him.
Shit. Is this the boyfriend?
Rodriguez blooms under Ana’s sweet smile.
Are they fucking?
“Mr. Grey.” Rodriguez gives me a dark look as we shake hands. It’s a warning. He’s telling me to back off. He likes her. He likes her a lot.
Well, game on, kid.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about,”

t’s called Spem in Alium, a forty-part motet by Thomas Tallis.