Please, Christian.”
68 | P a g e
E L JAMES
He closes his eyes as if in pain.
“I vowed I would bring you solace in times of need. Please don’t make me
break my vows.”
He sighs and opens his eyes, his expression bleak. “It’s arson,” he says
simply, and he looks suddenly so young and vulnerable. Oh fuck.
“And my biggest worry is that they are after me. And if they are after me—”
He stops, unable to continue.
“. . . They might get me,” I whisper. He blanches and I know that I ha一ve finally
uncovered the root of his anxiety. Reaching up, I caress his face.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
He frowns. “What for?”
“For telling me.”
He shakes his head and a ghost of a smile touches his lips. “You can be very
persuasive, Mrs. Grey.”
“And you can brood and internalize all your feelings and worry yourself to
death. You’ll probably die of a heart attack before you’re forty, and I want you
around far longer than that.”
“Mrs. Grey, you’ll be the death of me. The sight of you on the Jet Ski—I nearly
had a coronary.” He flops back on the bed and puts his hand over his eyes,
and I feel him shudder.
“Christian, it’s a Jet Ski. Even kids ride Jet Skis. Can you imagine what you’ll
be like when we visit your place in Aspen and I go skiing for the first time?”
He gasps and turns to face me, and I want to laugh at the horror on his face.
“Our place,” he says eventually.
I ignore him. “I’m a grown-up, Christian, and much tougher than I look. When
are you going to learn this?”
He shrugs and his mouth thins. I decide to change the subject.
“So, the fire. Do the police know about the arson?”
“Yes.” His expression is serious.
“Good.”
“Security is going to get tighter,” he says matter-of-factly.
6一9 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
“I understand.” I glance down his body. He’s still wearing his shorts and his
shirt, and I still ha一ve my T-shirt on. Jeez—talk about wham, bam, thank you
ma’am. The thought makes me giggle.
“What?” Christian asks, bemused.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You. Still dressed.”
“Oh.” He glances d
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