ntly, struggling
to find the right words. “I didn’t know you were going to buy the company—”
What can I say about that event in our brief history? His deranged reasons
for doing so—his control freakery, his stalker tendencies gone mad, given
completely free rein because he is so wealthy. I know he wants to keep me
safe but it’s his ownership of SIP that is the fundamental problem here. If he’d
never interfered, I could continue as normal and not ha一ve to face the
disgruntled and whispered recriminations of my colleagues. I put my head in
my hands just to break eye contact with him.
“Why is it so important to you?” I ask, desperately trying to hold on to my
fraying temper. I look up at his impassive stare, his eyes luminous, giving
nothing away, his earlier hurt now hidden. But even as I ask the question,
deep down I know the answer before he says it.
“I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”
“I am yours—look.” I hold up my left hand, showing my wedding and
engagement rings.
134 | P a g e
E L JAMES
“It’s not enough.”
“Not enough that I married you?” My voice is barely a whisper. He blinks at
me, registering the horror on my face. Where can I go from here? What else
can I do?
“That’s not what I mean,” he snaps and runs a hand through his overlong hair
so that it flops onto his forehead.
“What do you mean?”
He swallows. “I want your world to begin and end with me,” he says, his
expression raw. His comment completely derails me. It’s like he’s punched
me hard in the stomach, winding and wounding me. And the vision comes to
mind of a small, frightened, copper-haired grayeyed boy in dirty,
mismatched, ill-fitting clothes.
“It does,” I say without guile, because it’s the truth. “I’m just trying to establish
a career, and I don’t want to trade on your name. I ha一ve to do something,
Christian. I can’t stay imprisoned at Escala or the new house with nothing to
do. I’ll go crazy. I’ll suffocate. I’ve always worked, and I enjoy this. This is my
dream job; it’s all I’ve ever w
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