ehind him, he lays me back on the bed and releases me—reluctantly, I
think.
“If you’ve quite finished, Mr. Grey, I’d like to check over Mrs. Grey now.”
Nurse Nora is mad.
He stands back. “She’s all yours,” he says in a more measured tone. She
huffs at him then turns her attention back to me. Exasperating isn’t he?
“How do you feel?” she asks me her voice laced with sympathy and a trace
of irritation, which I suspect is for Christian’s benefit.
“Sore, and thirsty. Very thirsty,” I whisper.
“I’ll fetch you some water once I’ve checked your vitals and Dr. Bartley has
examined you.”
She reaches for a blood pressure cuff and wraps it around my upper arm. I
glance anxiously up at Christian. He looks dreadful—haunted, even—as if he
hasn’t slept for days. His hair is a mess, he hasn’t sha一ved for a long time,
and his shirt is badly wrinkled. I frown.
“How are you feeling?” Ignoring the nurse, he sits down on the bed out of
arm’s reach.
“Confused. Achy. Hungry.”
“Hungry?” He blinks in surprise.
I nod.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Anything. Soup.”
“Mr. Grey, you’ll need to the doctor’s approval before Mrs. Grey can eat.”
He gazes at her impassively for a moment then takes his BlackBerry out of
his pants pocket and presses a number.
“Ana wants chicken soup . . . Good . . . Thank you.” He hangs up. I glance at
Nora whose eyes narrow at Christian.
“Taylor?” I ask quickly.
Christian nods.
“Your blood pressure is normal, Mrs. Grey. I’ll fetch the doctor.”
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E L JAMES
She removes the cuff and, without so much as another word, stalks out of the
room, radiating disapproval.
“I think you made Nurse Nora mad.”
“I ha一ve that effect on women.” He smirks.
I laugh, then stop suddenly as pain radiates through my chest. “Yes, you do.”
“Oh Ana, I love to hear you laugh.”
Nora returns with a pitcher of water. We both fall silent, gazing at each other
as she pours out a glass and hands it to me.
“Small sips now,” she warns.
“Yes, ma’am,” I mutter and take a welcome sip of cool water.
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