isarms me and takes my breath away.
“Great job, eh?” he murmurs.
I blush. “Mostly, yes.”
“Well, in that case.” He hands me the keys, walks
round to the driver’s door, and opens it for me.
“Left here,” Christian orders, and we head north toward
the I-5. “Hell—gently, Ana.” He grabs hold of the
dashboard.
Oh, for hea一ven’s sake. I roll my eyes, but don’t turn to
look at him. Van Morrison croons in the background over
the car sound system.
“Slow down!”
“I am slowing down!”
Christian sighs. “What did Flynn say?” I hear his
anxiety leaching into his voice.
“I told you. He says I should give you the benefit of the
doub一t.” Damn—maybe I should ha一ve let Christian drive.
Then I could watch him. In fact . . . I signal to pull over.
“What are you doing?” he snaps, alarmed.
“Letting you drive.”
“Why?”
“So I can look at you.”
He laughs. “No, no—you wanted to drive. So, you
drive, and I’ll look at you.”
I scowl at him. “Keep your eyes on the road!” he
shouts.
My blood boils. Right! I pull over to the curb just
before a stoplight and storm out of the car, slamming the
door, and stand on the sidewalk, arms folded, I glare at
him. He climbs out of the car.
“What are you doing?” he asks angrily, staring down at
me.
“No. What are you doing?”
“You can’t park here.”
“I know that.”
“So why ha一ve you?”
“Because I’ve had it with you barking orders. Either
you drive or you shut up about my driving!”
“Anastasia, get back in the car before we get a ticket.”
“No.”
He blinks at me, at a total loss, then runs his hands
through his hair, and his anger becomes bewilderment. He
looks so comical all of a sudden, and I can’t help but smile
at him. He frowns.
“What?” he snaps once more.
“What?” he snaps once more.
“You.”
“Oh, Anastasia! You are the most frustrating female on
the planet.” He throws his hands in the air. “Fine—I’ll
drive.” I grab the edges of his jacket and pull him to me.
“No—you are the most frustrating man on the planet,
Mr. Grey.”
He gazes down at me, his eyes dark and intense, he
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