happiest.”
“Good.” He grins. “Aboard it is where I can keep you safe. Thank you for my
present.” He reaches over and grabs the camera, and holding it at arm’s
length, he snaps the two of us in our post tickling, postcoital, post
confessional embrace.
“The pleasure is all mine,” I smile and his eyes light up.
~o0o~
We wander through the opulent, gilt splendor of the eighteenth century
Palace of Versailles. Once a humble hunting lodge, it was transformed by the
Roi Soleil into a magnificent, la一vish seat of power, but even before the
eighteenth century ended it saw the last of those absolute monarchs.
The most stunning room by far is the Hall of Mirrors. The early afternoon light
floods through windows to the west, lighting up the mirrors that line the east
wall and illuminating the gold leaf décor and the enormous crystal
chandeliers. It’s breathtaking.
“Interesting to see what becomes of a despotic megalomaniac who isolates
himself in such splendor,” I murmur to Christian as he stands at my side. He
gazes down and cocks his head to one side, regarding me with humor.
“Your point, Mrs. Grey?”
“Oh, merely an observation, Mr. Grey.” I wa一ve my hand airily at the
surroundings. Smirking, he follows me to the center of the room where I stand
and gawk at the view—the spectacular gardens reflected in the looking glass
and the spectacular Christian Grey, my husband, reflected back at me, his
gaze bright and bold.
“I would build this for you,” he whispers. “Just to see the way the light
burnishes your hair, right here, right now.” He tucks a strand of
71 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
hair behind my ear. “You look like an angel.” He kisses me just below my
earlobe, takes my hand in his, and murmurs, “We despots do that for the
women we love.”
I flush at his compliment, smiling shyly, and follow him through the vast room.
~o0o~
“What are you thinking about?” Christian asks softly, taking a sip of his afterdinner
coffee.
“Versailles.”
“Ostentatious, wasn’t it?” He grins. I glance
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