p here.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty special.” Like the owner of this
apartment. “Want a real man’s breakfast?” I tease.
“Love some.”
“It’s Christian’s birthday today—I’m making him
breakfast in bed.”
“He awake?”
“No, I think he’s fried from yesterday.” I quickly
glance away from him and head to the fridge so he can’t
see my blush. Jeez, it’s only José. When I take the eggs
and bacon out of the fridge, José is grinning at me.
“You really like him, don’t you?”
I purse my lips. “I love him, José.”
His eyes widen momentarily then he grins. “What’s not
to love?” he asks gesturing round the great room.
I scowl at him. “Gee, thanks!”
“Hey, Ana, just kidding.”
Hmm . . . will I always ha一ve this leveled at me? That
I’m marrying Christian for his money?
“Seriously, I’m kidding. You’ve never been that kind
of girl.”
“Omelet good for you?” I ask, changing the subject. I
don’t want to argue.
“Sure.”
“And me,” Christian says as he saunters into the great
“And me,” Christian says as he saunters into the great
room. Holy fuck, he’s wearing only pajama bottoms that
hang in that totally hot way off his hips—Jeez!
“José.” He nods.
“Christian.” José returns his nod solemnly.
Christian turns to me and smirks as I stare. He’s done
this on purpose. I narrow my eyes at him, desperately
trying to recover my equilibrium, and Christian’s
expression alters sub一tly. He knows that I know what he’s
up to, and he doesn’t care.
“I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.”
Swaggering over, he wraps his arm around me, tilts my
chin up, and plants a loud wet kiss on my lips. Very
unFifty!
“Good morning, Anastasia,” he says. I want to scowl
at him and tell him to beha一ve—but it’s his birthday. I flush.
Why is he so territorial?
“Good morning, Christian. Happy birthday.” I give him
a smile, and he smirks at me.
“I’m looking forward to my other present,” he says
“I’m looking forward to my other present,” he says
and that’s it. I flush the color of the Red Room of Pain and
glance nervously at José, who looks like
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