“What if there had been press here?” Ana asks.
I shrug. “I have expensive lawyers.”
She frowns. “But you’re not above the law, Christian. I did have the situation under control.”
Really? “No one touches what’s mine.” I insert the right amount of venom into that statement. Ana takes another sip of champagne and closes her eyes. Suddenly she looks weary. I grasp her hand. “Come, let’s go. I want to get you home.”
“You going?” asks Kate, as she and Elliot arrive back at the table.
“Yes.”
“Good, we’ll come with you.”
Ana falls asleep in the minivan on the way back, her head on my shoulder. She’s fried. I shake her gently when Taylor pulls up outside the house. “Wake up, Ana.”
She staggers out into the cool air, where Taylor is waiting patiently.
“Do I need to carry you?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“I’ll go fetch Miss Grey and Mr. Kavanagh,” Taylor says.
Ana clings to me as she tiptoes up the stone steps to the oak front door. Taking pity on her, I bend down, unstrap and remove each of her shoes. “Better?”
She nods and gives me a bleary smile. She’s tipsy.
“I had delightful visions of these around my ears,” I whisper, looking wistfully down at her fuck-me heels, but she’s too tired for that. I open the door and we head upstairs to our bedroom. She stands, swaying, beside our bed, eyes closed, hands loose at her sides. “You’re wrecked, aren’t you?” I stare down into her sleepy face.
She nods and I start to unbuckle her coat.
“I’ll do it,” she mumbles, and tries to brush me off.
“Let me.”
She sighs and resigns herself to her fate.
“It’s the altitude. You’re not used to it. And the drinking, of course.” I smirk down at her and ease her out of her coat, tossing it aside onto a chair. Taking her hand, I lead her into the bathroom.
She frowns.
“Sit,” I order.
She slumps onto the chair and closes her eyes. She might fall asleep if I’m not quick enough. In the vanity I find the Advil, cotton balls, and moisturizer that Mrs. Bentley has supplied, and fill a small glass with water. I turn back to Ana and gently tip her head back. She opens eyes that are smudged with makeup. “Eyes closed,” I order.
She obliges, and gently I clean the makeup off until, finally, she’s smudge-free. “Ah. There’s the woman I married.”
“You don’t like makeup?”
“I like it well enough, but I prefer what’s beneath it.” I kiss her forehead. “Here. Take these.” I place the tablets on her palm and hand her the water.
She gazes up at me, pouting.
What?
“Take them.” You’ll feel worse tomorrow if you don’t.
She rolls her eyes but does as she’s told.
“Good. Do you need a private moment?”
She scoffs. “So coy, Mr. Grey. Yes, I need to pee.”
I laugh. “You expect me to leave?”
She giggles. “You want to stay?”
I cock my head to one side. It’s tempting.
“You are one kinky son of a bitch. Out. I don’t want you to watch me pee. That’s a step too far.” She stands up and waves me out of the bathroom.
I suppress my laughter and leave her to it. In the bedroom, I strip out of my clothes, change into my pajama bottoms, and hang my jacket in the closet. When I turn around, Ana is watching me. Grabbing a T-shirt, I stroll up to her, appreciating her frankly lascivious appraisal of my body. “Enjoying the view?”
“Al-ways,” she slurs.
“I think you’re slightly drunk, Mrs. Grey.”
“I think, for once, I have to agree with you, Mr. Grey.”
“Let me help you out of what little there is of this dress. It really should come with a health warning.” I turn her around, sweep her hair to the side, and undo the single button at the halter neck.
“You were so mad,” she says.
“Yes. I was.”
“At me?”
“No. Not at you.” I kiss her shoulder. “For once.”
“Makes a nice change.”
“Yes. It does.” I kiss her other shoulder, then tug her dress over her behind. Hooking my thumbs into her panties, I bend down and remove them together. I take her hand. “Step.” She does, tightening her fingers around mine as she wobbles. I toss her clothes on top of the coat. “Arms up.” I slip the T-shirt over her head and pull her into my arms and kiss her. She tastes of champagne and toothpaste and my favorite flavor, Ana. “As much as I’d love to bury myself in you, Mrs. Grey—you’ve had too much to drink, you’re at nearly eight thousand feet, and you didn’t sleep well last night. Come. Get into bed.” I pull back the duvet and let her climb in. She snuggles down as I cover her up and kiss her forehead.
“Close your eyes. When I come back to bed, I’ll expect you to be asleep.”
“Don’t go.”
“I have some calls to make, Ana.”
“It’s Saturday. It’s late. Please.” She looks up at me with her soul-searching eyes.
I run my hand through my hair. “Ana, if I come to bed with you now, you won’t get any rest. Sleep.” She pouts once more, but without any real passion. She’s too tired. I brush my lips against her forehead again. “Good night, baby.” I turn and leave her. I have to get Taipei on the line.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Ana is comatose when I return to bed. Slipping beneath the covers, I lean over and kiss her hair. She mumbles something unintelligible, but remains fast asleep. I close my eyes. My conversation with the owners of the Taiwanese shipyard was a success: a brother and sister in business together—it’s a first for me—and they’re keen to discuss terms in person. We just have to settle on a date. It’s the icing on the cake of a good day. Well, apart from losing it at the club and punching that asshole’s lights out. I grin into the darkness. No, that felt pretty good, too. With a self-satisfied smile on my face, I drift.
Ana squirms against me and I wake, fully. As usual, my limbs are entwined with hers. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing.” She’s luminous in the early morning sunshine. “Good morning.” She runs her fingers through my hair.