run an uphill race. I want to lean over and grasp my knees… but that’s just too obvious.
I glance up at him. He looks so cool and calm, like he’s been doing the Seattle Times crossword. How unfair. Is he totally unaffected by my presence? He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and he gently blows out a deep breath. Oh, he’s affected all right – and my very small inner goddess sways in a gentle victorious samba. The businessmen exit on the second floor. We ha一ve one more floor to tra一vel.
“You’ve brushed your teeth,” he says, staring at me.
“I used your toothbrush,” I breathe.
His lips quirk up in a half smile.
“Oh, Anastasia Steele, what am I going to do with you?”
The doors open at the first floor, and he takes my hand and pulls me out.
“What is it about elevators?” he mutters, more to himself than to me as he strides across the lobby. I struggle to keep pace with him because my wits ha一ve been thoroughly, royally, scattered all over the floor and walls of elevator three in the Heathman Hotel.
Christian opens the passenger door to the black Audi SUV, and I clamber in. It’s a beast of a car. He hasn’t mentioned the outburst of passion that exploded in the elevator. Should I? Should we talk about it or pretend that it didn’t happen? It hardly seems real, my first proper no-holds-barred kiss. As time ticks on, I assign it mythical, Arthurian legend, Lost City of Atlantis status. It never happened, it never existed. Perhaps I imagined it all. No. I touch my lips, swollen from his kiss. It definitely happened. I am a changed woman. I want this man, desperately, and he wanted me.
I glance at him. Christian is his usual polite, slightly distant self.
How confusing.
He starts the engine and reverses out of his space in the parking lot. He switches on the MP3 player. The car interior is filled with the sweetest, most magical music of two women singing. Oh wow… all my senses are in disarray, so this is doubly affecting. It sends delicious shivers up my spine. Christi
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