id you decide on?” he asks, and I know it’s because he doesn’t
want me to pursue the Hyde line of inquiry. 152 | P a g e
E L JAMES
“Only what you and I discussed. I think she likes you,” I say quietly.
He snorts. “Did you say something to her?” he asks and I flush. How does he
know? At a loss what to say, I stare down at my fingers.
“We were Christian and Ana when she arrived, and Mr. and Mrs. Grey when
she left.” His tone is dry.
“I may ha一ve said something,” I mumble. When I peek up at him he’s
regarding me warmly, and for an unguarded moment he looks . . . pleased.
He drops his gaze, shaking his head, and his expression changes.
“She’s only reacting to this face.” He sounds vaguely bitter, disgusted even.
Oh Fifty, no!
“What?” He’s bemused by my perplexed expression. His eyes grow wide in
alarm. “You’re not jealous, are you?” he asks, horrified. I flush and swallow,
then stare down at my knotted fingers. Am I?
“Ana, she’s a sexual predator. Not my type at all. How can you be jealous of
her? Of anyone? Nothing about her interests me.” When I glance up, he’s
gaping at me as if I’ve grown an additional limb. He runs a hand through his
hair. “It’s only you, Ana,” he says quietly. “It will only ever be you.”
Oh my. Abandoning the plans once more, Christian moves toward me and
clasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“How can you think otherwise? Ha一ve I ever given you any indication that I
could be remotely interested in anyone else?” His eyes blaze as he stares
into mine.
“No,” I whisper. “I’m being silly. It’s just today . . . you . . .” All my conflicting
emotions from earlier resurfaces. How can I tell him how confused I am? I’ve
been confounded and frustrated by his beha一vior this afternoon in my office.
One minute he wants me to stay at home, the next he’s gifting me a
company. How am I supposed to keep up?
“What about me?”
“Oh, Christian”—my bottom lip trembles—“I’m trying to adapt to this new life
that I had never imagined for myself. Everything is bei
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