act. My inner musings do nothing to cheer me. I stare out of the window and the landscape has changed. We’re crossing one of the bridges, surrounded by inky darkness. The somber night reflects my introspective mood, closing in, suffocating.
I glance briefly at Christian, and he’s staring at me.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks.
I sigh and frown.
“That bad, huh?”
“I wish I knew what you were thinking.”
He smirks at me.
“Ditto, baby,” he says softly as Taylor speeds into the night toward Bellevue.
It is just before eight when the Audi draws into the driveway of a colonial-style mansion. It’s breathtaking, even down to the roses around the door. Picture-book perfect.
“Are you ready for this?” Christian asks as Taylor pulls up outside the impressive front door.
I nod, and he gives my hand another reassuring squeeze.
“First for me too,” he whispers, then smiles wickedly. “Bet you wish you were wearing your underwear right now,” he teases.
I flush. I’d forgotten my missing panties. Fortunately, Taylor has climbed out of the car and is opening my door so he can’t hear our exchange. I scowl at Christian who grins broadly as I turn and climb out of the car.
Dr. Grace Trevelyan-Grey is on the doorstep waiting for us. She looks elegantly sophisticated in a pale blue silk dress; behind her stands Mr. Grey, I presume, tall, blond, and as handsome in his own way as Christian.
“Anastasia, you’ve met my mother, Grace. This is my dad, Carrick.”
“Mr. Grey, what a pleasure to meet you.” I smile and shake his outstretched hand.
“The pleasure is all mine, Anastasia.”
“Please call me, Ana.”
His blue eyes are soft and gentle.
“Ana, how lovely to see you again.” Grace wraps me in a warm hug. “Come in, my dear.”
“Is she here?” I hear a screech from within the house. I glance nervously at Christian.
“That would be Mia, my little sister,” he says almost irritably, but not quite.
There’s an undercurrent of affection in his words, the way his voice grows softer and his eyes crinkle as he ment
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