e your mind? I thought we’d
agreed. Well, lea一ve her alone . . . This is the first regular
relationship I’ve ever had, and I don’t want you
jeopardizing it through some misplaced concern for me.
Lea一ve. Her. Alone. I mean it, Elena.” He pauses, listening.
“No, of course not.” He frowns deeply as he says this.
Glancing up, he sees me regarding him. “I ha一ve to go.
Goodnight.” He presses the off button.
I cock my head to one side and raise an eyebrow at
him. Why is he phoning her?
“How’s the old news?”
“Cranky,” he replies sardonically. “Do you want to
dance some more? Or would you like to go?” He glances
at his watch. “The fireworks start in five minutes.”
“I love fireworks.”
“We’ll stay and watch them, then.” He puts his arms
around me and pulls me close. “Don’t let her come
between us, please.”
“She cares about you,” I mutter.
“Yes, and I her . . . as a friend.”
“I think it’s more than a friendship to her.”
His brow furrows. “Anastasia, Elena and I . . . it’s
complicated. We ha一ve a shared history. But it is just that,
history. As I’ve said to you time and time again, she’s a
good friend. That’s all. Please, forget about her.” He
kisses my hair, and in the interest of not ruining our
evening, I let it go. I am just trying to understand.
We wander hand in hand back to the dance floor. The
band is still in full swing.
“Anastasia.”
I turn to find Carrick standing behind us.
“I wondered if you’d do me the honor of the next
dance.” Carrick holds his hand out to me. Christian shrugs
and smiles, releasing my hand, and I let Carrick lead me
onto the dance floor. Sam the bandleader launches into
“Come Fly with Me,” and Carrick puts his arm around my
waist and gently whirls me into the throng.
“I wanted to thank you for the generous contribution to
our charity, Anastasia.”
From his tone, I suspect this is his roundabout way of
asking whether I can afford it.
“Mr. Grey—”
“Call me Carrick, please, Ana.”
“I’m delighted to be able to contribute. I unexpectedly
came into some mon
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