issues. I will just have to talk to him later, face to face.

Half an hour later, Jack e-mails me a document that I need to tidy up and polish, ready

for printing tomorrow in time for his conference. It will take me not just the rest of the

afternoon but well into the evening, too. I set to work.

When I look up, it’s after seven and the office is deserted, though the light in Jack’s

office is still on. I hadn’t noticed everyone leaving, but I am nearly finished. I e-mail the

document back to Jack for his approval and check my inbox. There’s nothing new from

Christian, so I quickly glance at my Blackberry, and it startles me by buzzing—it’s Chris-

tian.“Hi,” I murmur.

“Hi, when will you be finished?”

“By seven thirty, I think.”

“I’ll meet you outside.”

“Okay.”

He sounds quiet, nervous even. Why? Wary of my reaction?

“I’m still mad at you, but that’s all,” I whisper. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“I know. See you at seven thirty.”

Jack comes out of his office.

“I have to go. See you later.” I hang up.

I look up at Jack as he strolls casually toward me.

“I just need a couple of tweaks. I’ve e-mailed the brief back to you.”

He leans over me while I retrieve the document, rather close—uncomfortably close.

His arm brushes mine. Accidentally? I flinch, but he pretends not to notice. His other arm

rests on the back of my chair, touching my back. I sit up so I’m not leaning against the

backrest.

“Pages sixteen and twenty-three, and that should be it,” he murmurs, his mouth inches

from my ear.

My skin crawls at his proximity, but I choose to ignore it. Opening the document, I

shakily start on the changes. He’s still leaning over me, and all my senses are hyperaware.

It’s distracting and awkward, and inside I am screaming, Back off!

“Once this is done, it’ll be good to go to print. You can organize that tomorrow. Thank

you for staying late and doing this, Ana.” His voice is smooth, gentle, like he’s talking to a

wounded animal. My stomach twists.

“I think the least I could do is reward you with a quick drink. You deserve one.” He

tucks a strand of my hair that’s come loose from my hair tie behind my ear and gently ca-

resses the lobe.

I cringe gritting my teeth, and I jerk my head away. Shit!Christian was right. Don’t

touch me.

“Actually, I can’t this evening.” Or any other evening, Jack.

“Just a quick one?” he coaxes.

“No, I can’t. But thank you.”

Jack sits on the end of my desk and frowns. Alarm bells sound loudly in my head. I

am on my own in the office. I cannot leave. I glance nervously at the clock. Another five

minutes before Christian is due.

“Ana, I think we make a great team. I’m sorry that I couldn’t pull off this New York

trip. It won’t be the same without you.”

I’m sure it won’t.I smile weakly up at him, because I can’t think of what to say. And

for the first time all day, I feel the tiniest hint of relief that I am not going.

“So, did you have a good weekend?” he asks smoothly.

“Yes, thanks.” Where is he going with this?

“See your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“What does he do?”

Owns your ass . . .“He’s in business.”

“That’s interesting. What kind of business?”

“Oh, he has his fingers in all sorts of pies.”

Jack cocks his head to one side as he leans in toward me, invading my personal space—

again.

“You’re being very coy, Ana.”

“Well, he’s in telecommunications, manufacturing, and agriculture.”

Jack raises his eyebrows. “So many things. Who does he work for?”

“He works for himself. If you’re happy with the document, I’d like to go, if that’s

okay?”

He leans back. My personal space is safe again.

“Of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you,” he says disingenuously.

“What time does the building close?”

“Security is here until eleven.”

“Good.” I smile, and my subconscious flops down in her armchair, relieved to know

that we are not alone in the building. Switching off my computer, I grab my purse and stand

up, ready to leave.

“You like him then? Your boyfriend?”

“I love him,” I answer, looking Jack squarely in the eye.

“I see.” Jack frowns and he stands up from my desk. “What’s his surname?”

I flush.

“Grey. Christian Grey,” I mumble.

Jack’s mouth drops open. “Seattle’s richest bachelor? That Christian Grey?”

“Yes. The same.” Yes, that Christian Grey, your future boss who will have you for

breakfast if you invade my personal space again.

“I thought he looked familiar,” Jack says darkly and his brow creases again. “Well, he’s

a lucky man.”

I blink at him. What do I say to that?

“Have a good evening, Ana.” Jack smiles, but the smile doesn’t touch his eyes, and he

walks stiffly back into his office without a backward glance.

I let out a long sigh of relief. Well, that problem might be solved. Fifty works his magic

again. Just his name is my talisman, and it has this man retreating with his tail between his

legs. I allow myself a small victorious smile. You see, Christian? Even your name protects

me—you didn’t have to go to all that trouble of clamping down on expenses.I tidy my desk

and check my watch. Christian should be outside.

The Audi is parked up against the sidewalk, and Taylor leaps out to open the rear pas-

senger door. I have never been so pleased to see him, and I scramble into the car out of the

rain. Christian is in the rear seat, gazing at me, his eyes wide and wary. He’s bracing himself

for my anger, his jaw tight and tense.

“Hi,” I murmur.

“Hi,” he replies cautiously. He reaches over and grasps my hand, squeezing it tightly,

and my heart thaws a little. I’m so confused. I haven’t even worked out what I need to say

to him.

“Are you still mad?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I murmur. He raises my hand and lightly grazes my knuckles with soft

butterfly kisses.

“It’s been a shitty day,” he says.

“Yes, it has.” But for the first time since he left for work this morning, I begin to relax.

Just being in his company is a soothing balm, and all the shit from Jack, and the snarky

e-mails to and fro, and the nuisance that is Elena fade into the background. It’s just me and

my control freak in the back of the car.

“It’s better now that you’re here,” he murmurs. We sit in silence as Taylor weaves

through the evening traffic, both of us brooding and contemplative; but I feel Christian

slowly unwind beside me as he, too, relaxes, gently running his thumb across my knuckles

in a soft, soothing rhythm.

Taylor drops us outside the apartment building, and we both duck inside, out of the

rain. Christian clasps my hand as we wait for the elevator, his eyes scanning the front of

the building.

“I take it you haven’t found Leila yet.”

“No. Welch is still looking for her,” he mutters despondently.

The elevator arrives and in we step. Christian glances down at me, his gray eyes un-

readable. Oh, he just looks glorious—tousled hair, white shirt, dark suit. And suddenly it’s

there, from nowhere, that feeling. Oh my—the longing, the lust, the electricity. If it were

visible, it would be an intense blue aura around and between us it’s so strong. His lips part

as he gazes at me.

“Do you feel it?” he breathes.

“Yes.”

“Oh, Ana.” He groans and he grabs me, his arms snaking around me, one hand at the

nape of my neck, tipping my head back as his lips find mine. My fingers are in his hair and

caressing his cheek as he pushes me back against the elevator wall.