Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian

“Well, we could go to Seattle this evening or next Saturday for dinner at my place, and I’ll acquaint you with the facts then. The choice is yours.”

“Why can’t you tell me now?”

“Because I’m enjoying my breakfast and your company. Once you’re enlightened, you probably won’t want to see me again.”

She frowns as she processes what I’ve said. “Tonight,” she says.

Whoa. That didn’t take long.

“Like Eve, you’re so quick to eat from the tree of knowledge,” I taunt her.

“Are you smirking at me, Mr. Grey?” she asks.

I look at her through narrowed eyes.

Okay, baby, you asked for this.

I pick up my phone and press Taylor on speed dial. He answers almost immediately.

“Mr. Grey.”

“Taylor. I’m going to need Charlie Tango.”

She watches me closely as I make arrangements to bring my EC135 to Portland.

I’ll show her what I have in mind…and the rest will be up to her. She may want to come home once she knows. I’ll need Stephan, my pilot, to be on standby so he can bring her back to Portland if she decides to have nothing more to do with me. I hope that’s not the case.

And it dawns on me that I’m thrilled that I can take her to Seattle in Charlie Tango.

It’ll be a first.

“Standby pilot from 22:30,” I confirm with Taylor and hang up.

“Do people always do what you tell them?” she asks, and the disapproval in her voice is obvious. Is she scolding me now? Her challenge is annoying.

“Usually, if they want to keep their jobs.” Don’t question how I treat my staff.

“And if they don’t work for you?” she adds.

“Oh, I can be very persuasive, Anastasia. You should finish your breakfast. And then I’ll drop you off at home. I’ll pick you up at Clayton’s at eight when you finish. We’ll fly up to Seattle.”

“Fly?”

“Yes. I have a helicopter.”

Her mouth drops open, forming a small o. It’s a pleasing moment.

“We’ll go by helicopter to Seattle?” she whispers.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” I grin. Sometimes it’s just fucking great to be me. “Finish your breakfast.”

She seems stunned.

“Eat!” My voice is more forceful. “Anastasia, I have an issue with wasted food. Eat.”

“I can’t eat all this.” She studies all the food on the table and I feel guilty once more. Yes, there is too much food here.

“Eat what’s on your plate. If you’d eaten properly yesterday, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be declaring my hand so soon.”

Hell. This could be a huge mistake.

She gives me a sideways look as she chases her food around on the plate with a fork, and her mouth twitches.

“What’s so funny?”

She shakes her head and pops the last piece of pancake into her mouth, and I try not to laugh. As ever, she surprises me. She’s awkward, unexpected, and disarming. She really makes me want to laugh, and what’s more, it’s at myself.

“Good girl,” I mutter. “I’ll take you home when you’ve dried your hair. I don’t want you getting ill.”

You’ll need all your strength for tonight, for what I have to show you.

Suddenly, she gets up from the table and I have to stop myself from telling her that she doesn’t have permission.

She’s not your submissive…yet, Grey.

On the way back to the bedroom, she pauses by the sofa.

“Where did you sleep last night?” she asks.

“In my bed.” With you.

“Oh.”

“Yes, it was quite a novelty for me, too.”

“Not having…sex.”

She said the s-word…and the telltale pink cheeks appear.

“No.”

How can I tell her this, without it sounding weird?

Just tell her, Grey.

“Sleeping with someone.” Nonchalantly, I turn my attention back to the sports section and the write-up on last night’s game, then watch as she disappears into the bedroom.

No, that didn’t sound weird at all.

Well, I have another date with Miss Steele. No, not a date. She needs to know about me. I let out a long breath and drink what’s left of my orange juice. This is shaping up to be a very interesting day. I’m pleased when I hear the buzz of the hair dryer and surprised that she’s doing what she’s been told.

While I’m waiting for her, I phone the valet to bring my car up from the garage and check her address once more on Google Maps. Next, I text Andrea to send me an NDA via e-mail; if Ana wants enlightenment, she’ll need to keep her mouth shut. My phone buzzes. It’s Ros.

As I’m on the phone, Ana emerges from the bedroom and picks up her purse. Ros is talking about Darfur, but my attention is on Miss Steele. She rummages around in her purse and she’s pleased when she finds a hair tie.

Her hair is beautiful. Lush. Long. Thick. Idly, I wonder what it would be like to braid. She ties it back and puts on her jacket, then sits down on the sofa, waiting for me to finish my call.

“Okay, let’s do it. Keep me abreast of progress.” I conclude my conversation with Ros. She’s been working miracles and it looks like our food shipment to Darfur is happening.

“Ready to go?” I ask Ana. She nods. I grab my jacket and car keys and follow her out the door. She peeks at me through long lashes as we walk toward the elevator, and her lips curl into a shy smile. My lips twitch in response.