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His eyes glitter dangerously. "I hope that's not going to happen," he says, a cool edge to his voice. "But no, Ana. I want all your pleasure."
Whoa. "Don't you trust me?"
"Implicitly. Now, can I have them back?"
"I'll think about it."
He narrows his eyes at me.
There's music once more from the dance floor but it's a DJ playing a thumping dance number, the bass pounding out a relentless beat.
"Do you want to dance?"
"I'm really tired, Christian. I'd like to go, if that's okay."
Christian glances at Taylor, who nods, and we set off toward the house, following a couple of drunken guests. I'm grateful when Christian takes my hand - my feet are aching from the dizzying height and tight confinement of my shoes.
Mia comes bounding up to us. "You're not going, are you? The real music's just beginning. Come on, Ana." She grabs my hand.
"Mia," Christian admonishes her. "Anastasia's tired. We're going home. Besides, we have a big day tomorrow."
We do?
Mia pouts but surprisingly doesn't push Christian.
"You must come by sometime next week. Maybe we can hit the mall?"
"Sure, Mia." I grin, though in the back of my mind I'm wondering how since I have to work for a living.
She gives me a quick kiss then hugs Christian fiercely, taking us both by surprise. More astoundingly still, she places her hands directly on the lapels of his jacket, and he just gazes down at her, indulgently.
"I like seeing you this happy," she says sweetly and kisses him on the cheek. "Bye. You guys have fun." She skips off toward her waiting friends - among them Lily, who looks even more sour-faced without her mask.
I wonder idly where Sean is.
"We'll say goodnight to my parents before we leave. Come." Christian leads me through a gaggle of guests to Grace and Carrick, who wish us fond and warm farewells.
"Please do come again, Anastasia, it's been lovely having you here," says Grace kindly.
I am a little overwhelmed by both her and Carrick's reaction. Fortunately, Grace's parents have retired for the evening, so at least I am spared their enthusiasm.
Quietly, Christian and I walk hand in hand to the front of the house where countless cars are lined up and waiting to collect guests. I glance up at Fifty. He looks happy and relaxed. It's a real pleasure to see him this way, though I suspect it's unusual after such an extraordinary day.
"Are you warm enough?" he asks.
"Yes, thank you." I clasp my satin wrap.
"I really enjoyed this evening, Anastasia. Thank you."
"Me too, some parts more than others." I grin.
He grins and nods, then his brow creases. "Don't bite your lip," he warns in a way that makes my blood sing.
"What did you mean about a big day tomorrow?" I ask to distract myself.
"Dr. Greene is coming to sort you out. Plus, I have a surprise for you."
"Dr. Greene!" I halt.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I hate condoms," he says quietly. His eyes glint in the soft light from the paper lanterns, gauging my reaction.
"It's my body," I mutter, annoyed that he hasn't asked me.
"It's mine, too," he whispers.
I gaze up at him as various guests pass by, ignoring us. He looks so earnest. Yes, my body is his... he knows it better than I do.
I reach up, and he flinches ever so slightly but stays still. Grasping the corner of his bow tie, I pull so it unravels, revealing the top button of his shirt. Gently I undo it.
"You look hot like this," I whisper. Actually he looks hot all the time, but really hot like this.
He smirks at me. "I need to get you home. Come."
At the car, Sawyer hands Christian an envelope. He frowns at it and glances at me as Taylor ushers me into the car. Taylor looks relieved for some reason. Christian climbs in and hands me the envelope, unopened, as Taylor and Sawyer take their seats in the front.
"It's addressed to you. One of the staff gave it to Sawyer. No doubt from yet another ensnared heart." Christian's mouth twists. It's obvious this is an unpleasant concept to him.
I stare at the note. Who is this from? Ripping it open, I read it quickly in the dim light.
Holy shit, it's from her! Why won't she leave me alone?
Fuck, she's signed it Mrs. Robinson! He told her. The bastard.
"You told her?"
"Told who, what?"
"That I call her Mrs. Robinson," I snap.
"It's from Elena?" Christian is shocked. "This is ridiculous," he grumbles, running a hand through his hair, and I can tell he's irritated. "I'll deal with her tomorrow. Or Monday," he mutters bitterly.
And though I'm ashamed to admit it, a very small part of me is pleased. My subconscious nods sagely. Elena is pissing him off, and this can only be good - surely. I decide to say nothing for now but stash her note in my bag, and in a gesture guaranteed to lighten his mood, I hand him back the balls.
"Until next time," I murmur.
He glances at me, and it's hard to see his face in the dark, but I think he's smirking. He reaches for my hand and squeezes it.
I gaze out of the window into the darkness, reflecting on this long day. I've learned so much about him, gleaned so many missing details - the salons, the road map, his childhood - but there's still so much more to discover. And what about Mrs. R? Yes, she cares for him, and deeply, it would appear. I can see that, and he cares for her - but not in the same way. I don't know what to think anymore. All this information is making my head hurt.
Christian wakes me just as we pull up outside Escala. "Do I need to carry you in?" he asks gently.
