form. We love to look whether
in marble or oils or satin or film.”
It gives me an idea, a daring idea. I just need help choosing the right one,
and there’s only one person who can help me. I wrestle my BlackBerry out of
my purse and call José.
“Who . . . ?” he mumbles sleepily.
“José, it’s Ana.”
“Ana? Do you ha一ve any idea what time it is?” he says grumpily. Holy crap— I
thought I had a better handle on the time zones.
“Sorry.”
“Where are you? You okay?” He sounds more alert now, concerned.
“I’m in Cannes in the South of France, and I’m fine.”
“South of France, huh? You in some fancy hotel?”
“Um . . . no. We’re staying on a boat.”
“A boat?”
“A big boat.” I clarify, sighing.
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Fifty Shades Freed
“I see.” His tone chills. . . Shit, I should not ha一ve called him. I don’t need this
right now.
“José, I need your advice.”
“My advice?” He sounds stunned. “Sure,” he says, and this time he’s much
more friendly. I tell him my plan.
Two hours later, Taylor helps me out of the motor launch onto the steps up to
the deck. Gaston is helping the deckhand with the Jet Ski. Christian is
nowhere to be seen, and I scurry down to our cabin to wrap his present,
feeling a childish sense of delight.
“You were gone some time.” Christian startles me just as I am applying the
last piece of tape. I turn to find him standing in the doorway to the cabin,
watching me intently. Holy shit! Am I still in trouble over the Jet Ski? Or is it
the fire at his office?
“Everything in control at your office?” I ask tentatively.
“More or less,” he says, an annoyed frown flitting across his face.
“I did a little shopping,” I murmur, hoping to lighten his mood, and praying his
annoyance is not directed at me. He smiles warmly, and I know we’re okay.
“What did you buy?”
“This,” I put my foot up on the bed and show him my ankle chain.
“Very nice,” he says. He steps over to me and fondles the tiny bells so that
they jingle sweetly around my ankle. He frowns again at the mark left by the
cuffs and runs
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