re are we going?”
“Cannes.”
“Okay.” I stretch, feeling stiff. No amount of training with Claude could ha一ve
prepared me for this afternoon.
I rise gingerly, needing the bathroom. Grabbing my silk robe, I hastily put it
on. Why am I so shy? I feel Christian’s eyes on me. When I glance at him, he
returns to his laptop, his brow furrowed. Why’s he frowning?
As I absentmindedly wash my hands at the vanity unit, recalling last night at
the Casino, my robe falls open. I stare at myself in the mirror, shocked.
Holy fuck! What has he done to me?
36 | P a g e
E L JAMES