Chapter Nineteen #2
His world, indeed, and I want to belong in it, but on his terms?
I just don’t know. He hasn’t mentioned that damned contract.
My inner musings do nothing to cheer me.
I stare out the window and the landscape has changed.
We’re crossing one of the bridges, surrounded by inky darkness.
The somber night reflects my introspective mood, closing in, suffocating.
I glance at Christian, and he’s staring at me.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks.
I sigh and frown.
“That bad, huh?” he says.
“I wish I knew what you were thinking.”
“Ditto, baby,” he says as Taylor whisks us into the night toward Bellevue.
It is just before eight when the Audi turns into the driveway of a colonial-style mansion. It’s breathtaking, even down to the roses around the door. Picture-book perfect.
“Are you ready for this?” Christian asks as Taylor pulls up outside the impressive front door.
I nod, and he gives my hand another reassuring squeeze.
“First for me, too,” he whispers, then smiles wickedly. “Bet you wish you were wearing your underwear right now.”
My cheeks warm. I’d forgotten my missing panties. Fortunately, Taylor has climbed out of the car and is opening my door so he can’t hear our exchange. I scowl at Christian, who grins broadly as I turn and climb out of the car.
Dr. Grace Trevelyan-Grey is on the doorstep waiting for us. She looks elegantly sophisticated in a pale-blue silk dress. Behind her stands Mr. Grey, I presume, tall, blond, and as handsome in his own way as Christian.
“Anastasia, you’ve met my mother, Grace. This is my dad, Carrick.”
“Mr. Grey, what a pleasure to meet you.” I smile and shake his outstretched hand.
“The pleasure is all mine, Anastasia.”
“Please, call me Ana.”
His blue eyes are soft and gentle.
“Ana, how lovely to see you again.” Grace wraps me in a warm hug. “Come in, my dear.”
“Is she here?” I hear a screech from within the house. I glance nervously at Christian.
“That would be Mia, my little sister,” he says almost irritably, but not quite.
There’s an undercurrent of affection in his words, the way his voice grows softer and his eyes crinkle as he mentions her name. Christian obviously adores her. It’s a revelation. And she comes barreling down the hall, raven-haired, tall, and curvaceous. She’s about my age.
“Anastasia! I’ve heard so much about you.” She hugs me hard.
Holy cow. I can’t help but smile at her boundless enthusiasm.
“Ana, please,” I respond as she drags me into the large vestibule. It’s all dark-wood floors and antique rugs with a sweeping staircase to the second floor.
“He’s never brought a girl home before,” says Mia, dark eyes bright with excitement.
I glimpse Christian rolling his eyes, and I raise an eyebrow at him. He narrows his eyes.
“Mia, calm down,” Grace admonishes softly. “Hello, darling,” she says as she kisses Christian on both cheeks. He smiles down at her warmly, and then shakes hands with his father.
We all turn and head into the living room.
Mia has not let go of my hand. The room is spacious, tastefully furnished in creams, browns, and pale blues—comfortable, understated, and very stylish.
Kate and Elliot are cuddled together on a couch, clutching champagne flutes.
Kate bounces up to embrace me, and Mia finally releases my hand.
“Hi, Ana!” Kate beams. “Christian.” She nods curtly to him.
“Kate.” He is equally formal with her.
I frown at their exchange. Elliot grasps me in an all-embracing hug.
What is this, Hug Ana Week? This dazzling display of affection—I’m just not used to it.
Christian stands at my side, wrapping his arm around me.
Placing his hand on my hip, he spreads out his fingers and pulls me close.
Everyone is staring at us. It’s unnerving.
“Drinks?” Mr. Grey seems to recover himself. “Prosecco?”
“Please,” Christian and I speak in unison.
Oh…this is beyond weird.
Mia claps her hands. “You’re even saying the same things. I’ll get them.” She scoots out of the room.
I blush scarlet, and seeing Kate sitting with Elliot, it occurs to me suddenly that the only reason Christian invited me was because Kate is here.
Elliot probably freely and happily asked Kate to meet his parents.
Christian was trapped, knowing I would have found out via Kate.
I frown at the thought. He’s been forced into the invitation.
The realization is bleak and depressing.
My subconscious nods sagely, a you’ve-finally-worked-it-out-stupid look on her face.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Grace says as she follows Mia out of the room.
Christian frowns as he gazes at me. “Sit,” he commands, pointing to the plush couch, and I do as I’m told, carefully crossing my legs. He sits down beside me but doesn’t touch me.
“We were just talking about vacations, Ana,” Mr. Grey says kindly. “Elliot has decided to follow Kate and her family to Barbados for a week.”
I glance at Kate, and she grins, her eyes bright and wide. She’s delighted. Katherine Kavanagh, show some dignity!
“Are you taking a break now that you’ve finished your degree?” Mr. Grey asks.
“I’m thinking about going to Georgia for a few days,” I reply.
Christian gapes at me, his expression unreadable. Oh, shit. I haven’t mentioned this to him.
“Georgia?” he exclaims.
“My mother lives there, and I haven’t seen her for a while.”
“When were you thinking of going?” His voice is low.
“Tomorrow, late evening.”
Mia saunters back into the living room and hands us champagne flutes filled with pale-pink prosecco.
“Your good health!” Mr. Grey raises his glass. An appropriate toast from a doctor’s husband. It makes me smile.
“For how long?” Christian asks, his voice deceptively soft.
Holy crap…he’s angry.
“I don’t know yet. It will depend how my interviews go tomorrow.”
His jaw clenches, and Kate gets that interfering look on her face. She smiles oversweetly.
“Ana deserves a break,” she says pointedly at Christian. Why is she so antagonistic toward him? What is her problem?
“You have interviews?” Mr. Grey asks.
“Yes, for internships at two publishers, tomorrow.”
“I wish you the best of luck.”
“Dinner is ready,” Grace announces.
We all stand. Kate and Elliot follow Mr. Grey and Mia out of the room. I go to follow, but Christian clutches my elbow, bringing me to an abrupt halt.
“When were you going to tell me you were leaving?” he asks urgently. His tone is soft, but he’s masking his anger.
“I’m not leaving. I’m going to see my mother, and I was only thinking about it.”
“What about our arrangement?”
“We don’t have an arrangement yet.”
He narrows his eyes, then seems to remember himself. Releasing my hand, he takes my elbow and leads me out of the room.
“This conversation is not over,” he hisses as we enter the dining room.
Oh, crapola. Don’t get your panties in such a twist…and give me back mine. I glare at him.
The dining room reminds me of our private dinner at The Heathman.
A crystal chandelier hangs over the dark-wood table and there’s a massive, ornately carved mirror on the wall.
The table, covered with a crisp white linen tablecloth, is set, with a bowl of pale-pink peonies as the centerpiece. It’s stunning.
We take our places. Mr. Grey is at the head of the table, while I sit at his right hand, and Christian is seated beside me.
Mr. Grey reaches for the opened bottle of red wine and offers some to Kate.
Mia takes her seat beside Christian and, grabbing his hand, squeezes it tightly. Christian smiles warmly at her.
“Where did you meet Ana?” Mia asks him.
“She interviewed me for the WSU student newspaper.”
“Which Kate edits,” I add, hoping to steer the conversation away from me.
Mia beams at Kate, seated opposite next to Elliot, and they start talking about the student newspaper.
“Wine, Ana?” Mr. Grey asks.
“Please.” I smile at him. Mr. Grey rises to fill the rest of the glasses.
I peek up at Christian, and he turns to look at me, his head cocked to one side.
“What?” he asks.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” I whisper.
“I’m not mad at you.”
I stare at him.
He sighs. “Yes, I am mad at you.” He closes his eyes briefly.
“Palm-twitchingly mad?” I ask nervously.
“What are you two whispering about?” Kate interjects.
Christian glares at her in a butt-out-of-this-Kavanagh kind of way. Even Kate wilts under his stare.
“Just about my trip to Georgia,” I say sweetly, hoping to defuse their mutual hostility.
Kate smiles, a wicked gleam in her eye. “How was José when you went to the bar with him on Friday?”
Holy fuck, Kate. I widen my eyes at her. What is she doing? She widens her eyes back at me, and I realize she’s trying to make Christian jealous. How little she knows. I thought I’d gotten away with this.
“He was fine,” I murmur.
Christian leans over. “Palm-twitchingly mad. Especially now.” His tone is quiet and deadly.
Oh no. I squirm.
Grace reappears carrying two plates, followed by a pretty young woman with blond pigtails, dressed smartly in pale blue, carrying a tray of plates. Her eyes immediately find Christian in the room. She blushes and gazes at him from under her long mascara-covered lashes. What?
Somewhere in the house the phone starts ringing.
“Excuse me.” Mr. Grey rises again and exits.
“Thank you, Gretchen,” Grace says gently, frowning as Mr. Grey exits. “Just leave the tray on the console.” Gretchen nods, and with another furtive glance at Christian, she leaves.
So the Greys have staff, and the staff are eyeing up my would-be Dominant. Can this evening get any worse? I scowl at my hands in my lap.
Mr. Grey returns. “Call for you, darling. It’s the hospital,” he says to Grace.
“Please start, everyone.” Grace smiles as she hands me a plate and leaves.