Mia and Kate leap up to
clear the table.
“I definitely prefer sausage,” exclaims Elliot.
I stare down at my knotted fingers. Crap. I hope Mr. and Mrs. Grey don’t think
I’m some kind of gold digger. Christian reaches over and grasps both my
hands gently in one of his.
“Stop it.”
How does he know what I’m thinking?
“Ignore my dad,” Christian says so only I can hear him. “He’s really pissed
about Elena. That stuff was all aimed at me. I wish my mom had kept her
mouth shut.”
I know Christian is still smarting from his “talk” with Carrick about Elena last
night.
“He has a point, Christian. You’re very wealthy, and I’m bringing nothing to
our marriage but my student loans.”
Christian gazes at me, his eyes bleak. “Anastasia, if you lea一ve me, you might
as well take everything. You left me once before. I know how that feels.”
Holy Fuck! “That was different,” I whisper, moved by his intensity.
“But . . . you might want to lea一ve me.” The thought makes me sick.
He snorts and shakes his head with mock disgust.
“Christian, you know, I might do something exceptionally stupid—
and you . . .” I glance down at my knotted hands, pain lancing through me
unable to finish my sentence. Losing Christian . . . fuck.
28 | P a g e
E L JAMES
“Stop. Stop now. This subject is closed, Ana. We’re not discussing it any
more. No prenup. Not now—not ever.” He gives me a pointed give-it-up-now
look, which silences me. Then he turns to Grace.
“Mom,” he says. “Can we ha一ve the wedding here?”
~o0o~
And he’s not mentioned it again. In fact at every opportunity he’s tried to
reassure me about his wealth . . . that’s it mine, too. I shudder as I recall the
crazy shopping fest Christian demanded I go on with Caroline Acton—the
personal shopper from Niemans—in preparation for this honeymoon. My
bikini alone cost five hundred and forty dollars. I mean, it’s nice, but really—
that’s a ridiculous amount of money for four triangular scraps of material.
“You will get used to it,” Christian interrupts my reverie
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