le and speeds around the Fair Lady and on out to sea once more . . .
and I think I’m forgiven.
24 | P a g e
E L JAMES
“You’ve caught the sun,” Christian says mildly as he undoes my life vest. I
anxiously try to assess his mood. We are on deck aboard the yacht, and one
of the stewards is standing quietly nearby, waiting for my life vest. Christian
passes it to him.
“Will that be all, sir?” the young man asks. I love his French accent. Christian
glances at me, takes off his shades, and slips them into the collar of his Tshirt,
letting them hang.
“Would you like a drink?” he asks me.
“Do I need one?”
He cocks his head to one side.
“Why would you say that?” His voice is soft.
“You know why.”
He frowns as if weighing something up in his mind. Oh, what is he thinking?
“Two gin and tonics, please. And some nuts and olives,” he says to the
steward, who nods and quickly vanishes.
“You think I’m going to punish you?” Christian’s voice is silky.
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I’ll think of something. Maybe when you’ve had your drink.” And it’s a sensual
threat. I swallow, and my inner goddess blinks up from her sun lounger where
she’s trying to catch rays with a silver reflector fanned out at her neck.
Christian’s frowns once more.
“You want to be?”
“You want to be?”
How does he know?
“Depends,” I mutter, flushing.
“On what?” He hides his smile.
“If you want to hurt me or not.”
His mouth presses into a hard line, humor forgotten. He leans forward and
kisses my forehead.
“Anastasia, you’re my wife, not my sub. I don’t ever want to hurt you. You
should know that by now. Just . . . just don’t take your clothes off in public. I
don’t want you naked all over the tabloids. You don’t want that, and I’m sure
your mom and Ray don’t want that either.”
25 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
Oh! Ray. Holy shit, he’d ha一ve a coronary. What was I thinking? I mentally
castigate myself.
The steward appears with our drinks and snacks and places them on the
teak table.
“Sit,” Christian commands. I d
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