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I knew you were a freak, Ana.
“Have you eaten?”
“No.”
Not at all? Okay. We’ll have to fix this. I drag my hand through my hair, and in as even a tone as I can manage I ask, “Are you hungry?”
“Not for food,” she teases.
Whoa. She might as well be addressing my groin.
Leaning forward, I press my lips to her ear and catch her intoxicating scent. “You are as eager as ever, Miss Steele—and just to let you in on a little secret, so am I. But Dr. Greene is due here shortly.”
I lean against the sofa. “I wish you’d eat.” It’s a plea.
“What can you tell me about Dr. Greene?” She deftly changes the subject.
“She’s the best ob-gyn in Seattle. What more can I say?”
That’s what my doctor told my PA, anyway.
“I thought I was seeing your doctor? And don’t tell me you’re really a woman, because I won’t believe you.”
I suppress my snort. “I think it’s more appropriate that you see a specialist. Don’t you?”
She gives me a quizzical look, but she nods.
One more topic to tackle. “Anastasia, my mother would like you to come to dinner this evening. I believe Elliot is asking Kate, too. I don’t know how you feel about that. It will be odd for me to introduce you to my family.”
She takes a second to process the information, then tosses her hair over her shoulder in that way she does before a fight. But she looks hurt, not argumentative. “Are you ashamed of me?” She sounds choked.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. “Of course not.” Of all the ridiculous things to say! I glare at her, aggrieved. How could she think that about herself?
“Why is it odd?” she asks.
“Because I’ve never done it before.” I sound irritable.
“Why are you allowed to roll your eyes, and I’m not?”
“I wasn’t aware that I was.” She’s calling me out. Again.
“Neither am I, usually,” she snaps.
Shit. Are we arguing?
Taylor clears his throat. “Dr. Greene is here, sir,” he says.
“Show her up to Miss Steele’s room.”
Ana turns and looks at me and I hold out my hand to her.
“You’re not going to come as well, are you?” She’s horrified and amused at once.
I laugh, and my body stirs. “I’d pay very good money to watch, believe me, Anastasia, but I don’t think the good doctor would approve.” She places her hand in mine, and I pull her up into my arms and kiss her. Her mouth is soft and warm and inviting; my hands glide into her hair and I deepen the kiss. When I pull away, she looks dazed. I press my forehead to hers. “I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t wait to get you naked.” I can’t believe how much I missed you. “Come on. I want to meet Dr. Greene, too.”
“You don’t know her?”
“No.”
I take Ana’s hand and we head upstairs, to what will be her bedroom.
Dr. Greene has one of those myopic stares; it’s penetrating and that makes me a tad uncomfortable. “Mr. Grey,” she says, shaking my outstretched hand with a firm, no-nonsense grip.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” I flash her my most benign smile.
“Thank you for making it worth my while, Mr. Grey. Miss Steele,” she says politely to Ana, and I know she’s sizing up our relationship. I’m sure that she thinks I should be twiddling a mustache like a silent-movie villain. She turns and gives me a pointed “leave now” kind of look.
Okay.
“I’ll be downstairs,” I acquiesce. Though I would like to watch. I’m sure the good doctor’s reaction would be priceless if I made that request. I smirk at the thought and head downstairs to the living room.
Now that Ana’s no longer with me, I’m restless again. As a distraction I set the counter with two placemats. It’s the second time I’ve done this, and the first time was for Ana, too.
You’re going soft, Grey.
I select a Chablis to have with lunch—one of the few chardonnays I like—and when I’m done I take a seat on the sofa and browse through the sports section of the paper. Turning up the volume via the remote for my iPod, I hope the music will help me focus on stats from last night’s Mariners win against the Yankees, rather than what’s happening upstairs between Ana and Dr. Greene.
Eventually their footsteps echo in the corridor, and I look up as they enter. “Are you done?” I ask, and hit the remote for the iPod, to quiet the aria.
“Yes, Mr. Grey. Look after her; she’s a beautiful, bright young woman.”
What has Ana told her?
“I fully intend to,” I say, with a quick what-the-fuck glance at Ana.
She bats her lashes, clueless. Good. It’s nothing she’s said, then.
“I’ll send you my bill,” says Dr. Greene. “Good day, and good luck to you, Ana.” The edges of her eyes crinkle with a warm smile as we shake hands.
Taylor escorts her toward the elevator and wisely closes the double doors to the foyer.
“How was that?” I ask, a little bemused by Dr. Greene’s words.
“Fine, thank you,” Ana answers. “She said that I had to abstain from all sexual activity for the next four weeks.”
What the hell? I gape at her in shock.
Ana’s earnest expression dissolves into one of taunting triumph. “Gotcha!”
Well played, Miss Steele.
My eyes narrow and her grin vanishes.
“Gotcha!” I can’t help my smirk. Reaching around her waist, I pull her against me, my body hungering for her. “You are incorrigible, Miss Steele.” I weave my hands through her hair and kiss her hard, wondering if I should fuck her over the kitchen counter as a lesson.