He tenses momentarily, and I plant a soft kiss in his chest hair, breathing in his unique
Christian smell, mixed with sweat and sex. It’s heady. He rolls onto his side so I’m lying
beside him and gazes down at me.
“Is sex like this for everyone? I’m surprised anyone ever goes out,” I murmur, feeling
suddenly shy.
He grins. “I can’t speak for everyone, but it’s pretty damned special with you, Anasta-
sia.” He bends and kisses me.
“That’s because you’re pretty damned special, Mr. Grey,” I agree, smiling up at him
and caressing his face. He blinks down at me at a loss.
“It’s late. Go to sleep,” he says. He kisses me, then lies down and pulls me to him so
we’re spooning in bed.
“You don’t like compliments.”
“Go to sleep, Anastasia.”
Hmm . . . But he is pretty damned special. Jeez . . . why doesn’t he realize this?
“I loved the house,” I murmur.
He says nothing for a moment, but I sense his grin.
“I love you. Go to sleep.” He nuzzles my hair, and I drift into sleep, safe in his arms,
dreaming of sunsets and French doors and wide staircases . . . and a small copper-haired
boy running through a meadow, laughing and giggling as I chase him.
“Gotta go, baby.” Christian kisses me just below my ear.
I open my eyes and it’s morning. I turn to face him, but he’s up and dressed and fresh
and delicious, leaning over me.
“What time is it?” Oh no . . . I don’t want to be late.
“Don’t panic. I have a breakfast meeting.” He rubs his nose against mine.
“You smell good,” I murmur, stretching out beneath him, my limbs pleasurably tight
and creaky from all our exploits yesterday. I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Don’t go.”
He cocks his head to one side and raises his eyebrow. “Miss Steele—are you trying to
keep a man from an honest day’s work?”
I nod sleepily at him, and he smiles his new shy smile.
“As tempting as you are, I have to go.” He kisses me and stands. He’s wearing a really
sharp dark navy suit, white shirt and navy tie, and he looks every inch the CEO . . . the hot
CEO.“Laters, baby,” he murmurs and he’s off.
Glancing at the clock I note it’s already seven—I must have slept through the alarm.
Well, time to get up.
In the shower, inspiration hits me. I’ve thought of another birthday present for Christian.
It’s so difficult to buy something for the man who has everything. I’ve already given him
my main present, and I still have the other item I bought at the tourist shop, but this is one
present that will really be for me. I hug myself in anticipation as I switch off the shower. I
just have to prepare it.
In the walk-in closet, I put on a dark red fitted dress with a square neckline, cut quite
low. Yes, this will do for work.
Now for Christian’s present.I start rummaging through his drawers, looking for his
ties. In the bottom drawer I find those faded, ripped jeans, the ones he wears in the play-
room—the ones he looks so hot in. I stroke them gently, using my whole hand. Oh my, the
material is so soft.
Beneath them, I find a large, black, flat cardboard box. It piques my interest immedi-
ately. What’s in here? I stare at it, feeling like I’m trespassing again. Taking it out, I shake
it. It’s heavy as if it holds papers or manuscripts. I cannot resist, I open the lid—and quickly
shut it again. Holy fuck—photographs from the Red Room. The shock makes me sit back
on my heels as I try to wipe the image from my brain. Why did I open the box? Why has
he kept them?
I shudder. My subconscious scowls at me—this is before you. Forget them.
She’s right. Standing up I notice his ties are hanging at the end of his clothes rail. I find
my favorite and exit quickly.
I try to tell myself those photos are BA—Before Ana. My subconscious nods with ap-
proval, but it’s with a heavier heart that I head into the main room for breakfast. Mrs. Jones
smiles at me warmly and then frowns.
“Everything all right, Ana?” she asks kindly.
“Yes,” I murmur, distracted. “Do you have a key to the . . . um, playroom?”
She pauses momentarily, surprised.
“Yes, of course.” She unclips a small bunch of keys from her belt. “What would you
like for breakfast, dear?” she asks as she hands me the keys.
“Just granola. I won’t be long.”
I feel more ambivalent about this gift now but only since the discovery of those pho-
tographs. Nothing’s changed,my subconscious barks at me again, glaring at me over her
half-moon winged glasses. That picture was hot, my inner goddess chips in, and mentally
I scowl at her. Yes it was—too hot for me.
What else does he have hidden away? Quickly I ferret through the museum chest, take
what I need, and lock the playroom door behind me. Wouldn’t do for José to discover this!
I hand the keys back to Mrs. Jones and sit down to devour my breakfast, feeling odd
that Christian is absent. The photograph image dances unwelcome around my mind. I won-
der who it was? Leila perhaps?
On my drive in to work, I debate whether or not to tell Christian I found his photographs.
No,screams my subconscious, her Edvard Munch face on. I decide she’s probably right.
As I sit down at my desk, my Blackberry buzzes.
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Surfaces
Date:June 17, 2011 08:59
To:Anastasia Steele
I calculate that there are at least 30 surfaces to go. I am looking forward to each and
every one of them. Then there’s the floors, the walls—and let’s not forget the balcony.
After that there’s my office . . .
Miss you. x
Christian Grey
Priapic CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
His e-mail makes me smile, and all my earlier reservations evaporate. It’s me he wants
now, and memories of last night’s sexcapades flood my mind . . . the elevator, the foyer, the
bed.Priapic is right. I wonder idly what the female equivalent might be?
From:Anastasia Steele
Subject:Romance?
Date:June 17, 2011 09:03
To:Christian Grey
Mr. GreyYou have a one-track mind.
I missed you at breakfast
But Mrs. Jones was very accommodating.
Ax
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Intrigued
Date:June 17, 2011 09:07
To:Anastasia Steele
What was Mrs. Jones accommodating about?
What are you up to Miss Steele?
Christian Grey
Curious CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
How does he know?
From:Anastasia Steele
Subject:Tapping Nose
Date:June 17, 2011 09:10
To:Christian Grey
Wait and see—it’s a surprise.
I need to work . . . let me be.
Love you.
A x
From:Christian Grey
Subject:Frustrated
Date:June 17, 2011 09:12
To:Anastasia Steele
I hate it when you keep things from me.
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.