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“Mr. Grey. Thank you for seeing me today. Is four o’clock a good time?”

“Sure. We’re at The Heathman.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Ana wanders into the waiting room. She looks serious.

Is there a problem?

“Okay,” I respond to Clark, and hang up. “Clark will be here at four this afternoon.”

She frowns. “Okay. Ray wants coffee and doughnuts.”

I laugh, not expecting that response. “I think I would, too, if I’d been in an accident. Ask Taylor to go.”

“No, I’ll go.”

“Take Taylor with you.”

Ana rolls her eyes. “Okay.” She sounds like an exasperated teen.

I smirk and cock my head to one side. “There’s no one here.”

Her eyes widen a fraction as she catches my drift; her interest is clearly piqued. She sets her shoulders as if she’s going to challenge me and raises that stubborn Steele chin.

A young couple enters the room behind her and the man has his arms around his weeping companion. The woman is visibly distraught. Shit, something is seriously wrong.

Ana’s eyes widen with compassion, then she turns to me and lifts a shoulder in regret.

Oh. Maybe she was game for a spanking. The thought is appealing.

Very appealing.

Picking up my laptop, I take her hand, and we head out of the room. “They need the privacy more than we do,” I mutter. “We’ll have our fun later.”

Taylor is outside, waiting in the car. “Let’s all go get coffee and doughnuts,” I say. We could use a treat.

Ana returns my smile. “Voodoo Doughnut in Portland. Best doughnuts in the world,” she says, and climbs into the back of the SUV.

Detective Clark is punctual. Taylor shows him into our suite and he wanders in, looking as rumpled and curmudgeonly as ever. “Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey, thank you for seeing me.”

“Detective Clark.” I shake his hand and direct him to sit down, then step over to join Ana on the sofa that I tied her to last night.

“It’s Mrs. Grey I wish to see,” Clark says, his tone a little abrasive, and I know he’s addressing Taylor and me.

Oh. Now I definitely want to hear what he has to say.

I nod to Taylor, who acknowledges my cue and leaves, closing the door behind him.

“Anything you wish to say to my wife you can say in front of me.” If this is about Hyde, I’m not leaving my wife’s side.

“Are you sure you’d like your husband to be present?” Clark asks Ana.

She looks puzzled. “Of course. I have nothing to hide. You are just interviewing me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’d like my husband to stay.”

There. Told you so. I glare at him, pleased that Ana has taken my side. I sit down beside her, trying to mask my simmering irritation.

“All right,” murmurs Clark. He coughs to clear his throat, and I wonder if he’s nervous. “Mrs. Grey, Mr. Hyde maintains that you sexually harassed him and made several lewd advances toward him.”

What the fuck!

Ana looks both shocked and amused at once. She places her hand on my thigh, but it doesn’t stop me. “That’s preposterous,” I exclaim. Her fingernails dig into my leg—I suspect in an attempt to shut me up.

“That’s not true.” Ana looks him squarely in the eye, the embodiment of serenity as she addresses Clark. “In fact, it was the other way around. He propositioned me in a very aggressive manner, and he was fired.”

Clark’s mouth flattens, as if he’d been expecting this response. “Hyde alleges that you fabricated a tale about sexual harassment in order to get him fired. He says that you did this because he refused your advances and because you wanted his job.”

Ana’s face twists in disgust. “That’s not true.”

This is fucking absurd.

“Detective, please don’t tell me you have driven all this way to harass my wife with these ridiculous accusations.”

Clark graces me with a resigned look. “I need to hear this from Mrs. Grey, sir.” Ana grasps my thigh again, and I know she wants me to shut up.

“You don’t have to listen to this shit, Ana.”

“I think I should let Detective Clark know what happened.” She pins me with bright blue eyes, imploring me to shut the fuck up.

Okay, baby. Have it your way.

Waving at her to continue, I endeavor to stay quiet and keep my temper in check. She folds her hands in her lap and continues, “What Hyde says is simply not true.” Her voice rings calm and clear through the room. “Mr. Hyde accosted me in the office kitchen one evening. He told me that it was thanks to him that I’d been hired, and that he expected sexual favors in return. He tried to blackmail me, using e-mails that I’d sent to Christian, who wasn’t my husband then. I didn’t know Hyde had been monitoring my e-mails. He’s delusional. He even accused me of being a spy sent by Christian, presumably to help him take over the company. He didn’t know that Christian had already bought SIP.” She shakes her head and knits her hands together. “In the end, I–I took him down.”

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