“So you are graduating this week?” Grace asks.

“Yes.”

My cell phone starts ringing. Kate, I bet.

“Excuse me.” It’s in the kitchen. I wander over and lean across the breakfast bar, not

checking the number.

“Kate.”

“Dios mio! Ana!” Holy crap, it’s José.He sounds desperate. “Where are you? I’ve

been trying to contact you. I need to see you, to apologize for my behavior on Friday. Why

haven’t you returned my calls?”

“Look José, now’s not a good time.” I glance anxiously over at Christian who’s watch-

ing me intently, his face impassive as he murmurs something to his mom. I turn my back

to him.

“Where are you? Kate is being so evasive,” he whines.

“I’m in Seattle.”

“What are you doing in Seattle? Are you with him?”

“José, I’ll call you later. I can’t talk to you now.” I hang up.

I walk as nonchalantly back to Christian and his mother. Grace is in full flow.

“… And Elliot called to say you were around – I haven’t seen you for two weeks,

darling.”

“Did he now?” Christian murmurs, gazing at me, his expression unreadable.

“I thought we might have lunch together, but I can see you have other plans, and I don’t

want to interrupt your day.” She gathers up her long cream coat and turns to him, offering

him her cheek. He kisses her briefly, sweetly. She doesn’t touch him.

“I have to drive Anastasia back to Portland.”

“Of course, darling. Anastasia, it’s been such a pleasure. I do hope we meet again.”

She holds her hand out to me, her eyes glowing, and we shake.

Taylor appears from… where?

“Mrs. Grey?” he asks.

“Thank you, Taylor.” He escorts her from the room and through the double doors to the

foyer. Taylor was here the whole time? How long has he been here? Where has he been?

Christian glares at me.

“So the photographer called?”

Crap.

“Yes.”

“What did he want?”

“Just to apologize, you know – for Friday.”

Christian narrows his eyes.

“I see,” he says simply.

Taylor reappears.

“Mr. Grey, there’s an issue with the Darfur shipment.”

Christian nods curtly at him.

“Charlie Tango back at Boeing Field?”

“Yes sir.”

Taylor nods at me.

“Miss Steele.”

I smile tentatively back at him, and he turns and leaves.

“Does he live here? Taylor?”

“Yes.” His tone is clipped. What is his problem?

Christian heads over to the kitchen and picks up his BlackBerry, scrolling through

some emails, I assume. His mouth presses in a hard line, and he makes a call.

“Ros, what’s the issue?” he snaps. He listens, watching me, gray eyes speculative, as

I stand in the middle of the huge room wondering what to do with myself, feeling extraor-

dinarily self-conscious and out of place.

“I’m not having either crew put at risk. No, cancel… We’ll air drop instead… Good.”

He hangs up. The warmth in his eyes has disappeared. He looks forbidding, and with one

quick glance at me, he heads into his study and returns a moment later.

“This is the contract. Read it, and we’ll discuss it next weekend. May I suggest you do

some research, so you know what’s involved.” He pauses. “That’s if you agree, and I really

hope you do.” He adds, his tone softer, anxious.

“Research?”

“You’ll be amazed what you can find on the Internet,” he murmurs.

Internet! I don’t have access to a computer, only Kate’s laptop, and I couldn’t use Clay-

ton’s, not for this sort of ‘research’ surely?

“What is it?” he asks, cocking his head to one side.

“I don’t have a computer. I’ll see if I can use Kate’s laptop.”

He hands me a manila envelope.

“I’m sure I can… err, lend you one. Grab your things, we’ll drive back to Portland and

grab some lunch on the way. I need to dress.”

“I’ll just make a call,” I murmur. I just want to hear Kate’s voice. He frowns.

“The photographer?” His jaw clenches, and his eyes burn. I blink at him. “I don’t like

to share, Miss Steele. Remember that.” His quiet, chilling tone is a warning, and with one

long, cold look at me, he heads back to the bedroom.

Holy crap. I just wanted to call Kate,I want to call after him, but his sudden aloofness

has left me paralyzed. What happened to the generous, relaxed, smiling man who was

making love to me not half an hour ago?

“Ready?” Christian asks as we stand by the double doors to the foyer.

I nod uncertainly. He’s resumed his distant, polite, uptight persona, his mask back up

and on show. He’s carrying a leather messenger bag. Why does he need that? Perhaps he’s

staying in Portland, and then I remember graduation. Oh yes… he’ll be there on Thursday.

He’s wearing a black leather jacket. He certainly doesn’t look like the multi-multi million-

aire, billionaire, what-ever-aire, in these clothes. He looks like a boy from the wrong side

of the tracks, maybe a badly behaved rock star or a catwalk model. I sigh inwardly, wish-

ing I had a tenth of his poise. He’s so calm and controlled. I frown, recalling his outburst

about José… Well, he seems to be.

Taylor is hovering in the background.

“Tomorrow then,” he says to Taylor who nods.

“Yes sir. Which car are you taking, sir?”

He looks down at me briefly.

“The R8.”

“Safe trip, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele.” Taylor looks kindly at me, though perhaps there’s

a hint of pity hidden in the depths of his eyes.

No doubt he thinks I’ve succumbed to Mr. Grey’s dubious sexual habits. Not yet,

just his exceptional sexual habits, or perhaps sex is like that for everyone. I frown at the

thought. I have no comparison, and I can’t ask Kate. That’s something I am going to have

to address with Christian. It’s perfectly natural that I should talk to someone – and I can’t

talk to him if he is so open one minute and so standoffish the next.

Taylor holds the door open for us and ushers us through. Christian summons the eleva-

tor. “What is it, Anastasia?” he asks. How does he know I’m chewing something over in

my mind? He reaches up and pulls my chin.

“Stop biting your lip, or I will fuck you in the elevator, and I don’t care who gets in

with us.”

I blush, but there’s a hint of a smile around his lips, finally his mood seems to be shift-

ing.“Christian, I have a problem.”

“Oh?” I have his full attention.

The elevator arrives. We walk in, and Christian presses the button marked G.

“Well,” I flush. How to say this?“I need to talk to Kate. I’ve so many questions about

sex, and you’re too involved. If you want me to do all these things, how do I know–?” I

pause, struggling to find the right words. “I just don’t have any terms of reference.”

He rolls his eyes at me.

“Talk to her if you must.” He sounds exasperated. “Make sure she doesn’t mention

anything to Elliot.”

I bristle at his insinuation. Kate isn’t like that.

“She wouldn’t do that, and I wouldn’t tell you anything she tells me about Elliot – if

she were to tell me anything,” I add quickly.

“Well, the difference is that I don’t want to know about his sex life,” Christian mur-

murs dryly. “Elliot’s a nosy bastard. But only about what we’ve done so far,” he warns.

“She’d probably have my balls if she knew what I wanted to do to you,” he adds so softly

I’m not sure I’m supposed to hear it.

“Okay,” I agree readily, smiling up at him, relieved. The thought of Kate with Chris-

tian’s balls is not something I want to dwell on.

His lip quirks up at me, and he shakes his head.

“The sooner I have your submission the better, and we can stop all this,” he murmurs.