tian Grey.And I realize, in that moment, that yes, that’s exactly what I want to do. I want

him to be damned delighted with me. It’s a revelation.

“In very simple terms, I want you to want to please me,” he says softly. His voice is

hypnotic.

“How do I do that?” My mouth is dry, and I wish I had more wine. Okay, I understand

the pleasing bit, but I am puzzled by the soft-boudoir-Elizabethan-torture set up. Do I want

to know the answer?

“I have rules, and I want you to comply with them. They are for your benefit and for

my pleasure. If you follow these rules to my satisfaction, I shall reward you. If you don’t,

I shall punish you, and you will learn,” he whispers. I glance at the rack of canes as he

says this .

“And where does all this fit in?” I wave my hand in the general direction of the room.

“It’s all part of the incentive package. Both reward and punishment.”

“So you’ll get your kicks by exerting your will over me.”

“It’s about gaining your trust and your respect, so you’ll let me exert my will over you.

I will gain a great deal of pleasure, joy, even in your submission. The more you submit, the

greater my joy – it’s a very simple equation.”

“Okay, and what do I get out of this?”

He shrugs and looks almost apologetic.

“Me,” he says simply.

Oh my.Christian rakes his hand through his hair as he gazes at me.

“You’re not giving anything away, Anastasia,” he murmurs, exasperated. “Let’s go

back downstairs where I can concentrate better. It’s very distracting having you in here.”

He holds his hand out to me, and now I’m hesitant to take it.

Kate had said he was dangerous, she was so right. How did she know?He’s danger-

ous to my health, because I know I’m going to say yes. And part of me doesn’t want to.

Part of me wants to run screaming from this room and all it represents. I am so out of my

depth here.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Anastasia.” His gray eyes implore, and I know he speaks

the truth. I take his hand, and he leads me out of the door.

“If you do this, let me show you.” Rather than going back downstairs, he turns right

out of the playroom,as he calls it, and down a corridor. We pass several doors until we

reach the one at the end. Beyond it is a bedroom with a large double bed, all in white…

everything, furniture, walls, bedding. It’s sterile and cold but with the most glorious view

of Seattle through the glass wall.

“This will be your room. You can decorate it how you like, have whatever you like in

here.”

“My room? You’re expecting me to move in?” I can’t hide the horror in my voice.

“Not full time. Just say, Friday evening through Sunday. We have to talk about all that,

negotiate. If you want to do this,” he adds, his voice quiet and hesitant.

“I’ll sleep here?”

“Yes.”

“Not with you.”

“No. I told you, I don’t sleep with anyone, except you, when you’re stupefied with

drink.” His eyes are reprimanding.

My mouth presses in a hard line. This is what I cannot reconcile. Kind, caring Chris-

tian, who rescues me from inebriation and holds me gently while I’m throwing up into the

azaleas, and the monster who possesses whips and chains in a special room.

“Where do you sleep?”

“My room is downstairs. Come, you must be hungry.”

“Weirdly, I seem to have lost my appetite,” I murmur petulantly.

“You must eat, Anastasia,” he admonishes and, taking my hand, leads me back down-

stairs.

Back in the impossibly big room, I am filled with deep trepidation. I am on the edge

of a precipice, and I have to decide whether or not to jump.

“I’m fully aware that this is a dark path I’m leading you down, Anastasia, which is

why I really want you to think about this. You must have some questions,” he says as he

wanders into the kitchen area, releasing my hand.

I do. But where to start?

“You’ve signed your NDA, you can ask me anything you want, and I’ll answer.”

I stand at the breakfast bar watching him as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out a

plate of different cheeses with two large bunches of green and red grapes. He sets the plate

down on the worktop and proceeds to cut up a French baguette.

“Sit.” He points to one of the bar stools at the breakfast bar, and I obey his command.

If I’m going to do this, I’m going to have to get used to it. I realize he’s been this bossy

since I met him.

“You mentioned paperwork.”

“Yes.”

“What paperwork?”

“Well, apart from the NDA, a contract saying what we will and won’t do. I need to

know your limits, and you need to know mine. This is consensual, Anastasia.”

“And if I don’t want to do this?”

“That’s fine,” he says carefully.

“But we won’t have any sort of relationship?” I ask.

“No.”

“Why?”

“This is the only sort of relationship I’m interesting in.”

“Why?”

He shrugs.

“It’s the way I am.”

“How did you become this way?”

“Why is anyone the way they are? That’s kind of hard to answer. Why do some people

like cheese and other people hate it? Do you like cheese? Mrs. Jones – my housekeeper

– has left this for supper.” He takes some large, white plates from a cupboard and places

one in front of me.

We’re talking about cheese… Holy crap.

“What are your rules that I have to follow?”

“I have them written down. We’ll go through them once we’ve eaten.”

Food. How can I eat now?

“I’m really not hungry,” I whisper.

“You will eat,” he says simply. Dominating Christian, it all becomes clear.“Would

you like another glass of wine?”

“Yes, please.”

He pours wine into my glass and comes to sit beside me. I take a hasty sip.

“Help yourself to food, Anastasia.”

I take a small bunch of grapes. This I can manage. He narrows his eyes.

“Have you been like this for a while?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Is it easy to find women who want to do this?”

He raises an eyebrow at me.

“You’d be amazed,” he says dryly.

“Then why me? I really don’t understand.”

“Anastasia, I’ve told you. There’s something about you. I can’t leave you alone.” He

smiles ironically. “I’m like a moth to a flame.” His voice darkens. “I want you very badly,

especially now, when you’re biting your lip again.” He takes a deep breath and swallows.

My stomach somersaults – he wants me… in a weird way, true, but this beautiful,

strange, kinky man wants me.

“I think you have that cliché the wrong way round.” I grumble. I am the moth and he

is the flame, and I’m going to get burnt. I know.

“Eat!”

“No. I haven’t signed anything yet, so I think I’ll hang on to my free will for a bit

longer, if that’s okay with you.”

His eyes soften, and his lips turn up in a smile.

“As you wish, Miss Steele.”

“How many women?” I blurt out the question, but I’m so curious.

“Fifteen.”

Oh… not as many as I thought.

“For long periods of time?”

“Some of them, yes.”

“Have you ever hurt anyone?”

“Yes.”

Holy shit.

“Badly?”

“No.”

“Will you hurt me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Physically, will you hurt me?”

“I will punish you when you require it, and it will be painful.”

I think I feel a little faint. I take another sip of wine. Alcohol - this will make me brave.

“Have you ever been beaten?” I ask.

“Yes.”

Oh… that surprises me. Before I can question him on this revelation further, he inter-

rupts my train of thought.

“Let’s discuss this in my study. I want to show you something.”