“Supercilious? I thought he was fine.”
“He was trying to impress you.”
“Well, he succeeded.”
Ana, you’re too easily impressed.
“Shall we go see?” she says, amused.
“Lead on, Mrs. Grey.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. For the last couple of hours I’ve been working in the confines of the ICU waiting room. Ana has been at Ray’s bedside since we returned from lunch; last time I checked, she was reading to him. She’s a kind and considerate daughter—he must have been a wonderful father to inspire such devotion.
I’ve read through the Shipyard Heads of Agreement, and I have a list of questions, which I’ve e-mailed to Ros. I’m not signing anything until we’ve spoken, but all that can wait until Monday at the earliest.
My phone buzzes. It’s Taylor, calling to say he’s delivered Ana’s mother and her husband to The Heathman. I check the time, noting it’s just after 5 p.m. Carla needs to know about Ray—I can’t put that off any longer. Reluctantly, I call the hotel and ask to be put through to the Adamses’ room.
I’m not looking forward to this.
“Hello,” Carla answers.
I take a deep breath. “Carla, it’s Christian.”
“Christian,” she gushes. “We had such a wonderful flight over here. Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you had a pleasant journey. I have some bad news, though.”
“Oh no! Is Ana okay?”
“Ana’s fine. It’s Ray. He was involved in a car accident and he’s in the ICU here in Portland. That’s why we’re in Portland and not Seattle. His condition is improving. Though he’s in an induced coma at the moment, but he’ll be coming out of it tomorrow.”
“Oh no,” she breathes. “How’s Ana?”
“She’s holding up. And because all the news from the ICU is good, I thought we’d go ahead and celebrate her birthday.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
“I thought you should know before this evening. But I’d still like to keep your arrival a surprise.”
“Yes. Yes,” she says. “I’ve deliberately not called or texted Ana to keep the surprise.”
“I appreciate that, and I’m sorry to be the bearer of this news. It must be upsetting.”
“No. Christian. Thank you for telling me. I’m very fond of Ray.”
“I’ll see you later this evening.”
“Yes. You will. Bye for now.” She hangs up.
That was not as bad as I anticipated.
It’s time to go back to the hotel. I pack up my laptop, then stand and stretch. These are not the most comfortable seats.
Ana is still reading off her phone to Ray. I watch from the end of the bed as she caresses his hand and glances at him occasionally, her lovelight burning bright.
She notices me as Nurse Kellie approaches.
“It’s time to go, Ana,” I say gently.
She tightens her hold on Ray’s hand, making it clear she doesn’t want to leave him.
“I want to feed you. Come. It’s late,” I insist.
“I’m about to give Mr. Steele a sponge bath,” Nurse Kellie says.
“Okay,” Ana acquiesces. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning.” Leaning over, she kisses Ray’s cheek.
She’s quiet and thoughtful as we walk across the parking lot.
“Do you want me to drive?” I ask.
Her face whips to mine. “No. I’m good,” she says, and opens the driver’s door.
There’s my girl.
I grin and climb in beside her.
In the elevator she’s quiet again. Her mind is with Ray, I’m sure of it. Wrapping her in my arms, I offer her the only comfort I can.
Me. And the warmth of my body.
I hold her close as we travel up to our floor.
“I thought we’d dine downstairs. In a private room.” I open the door to our suite and usher her in.
“Really? Finish what you started a few months ago?” Ana raises a brow.
“If you’re very lucky, Mrs. Grey.”
She laughs. “Christian, I don’t have anything dressy to wear.”
Oh, ye of little faith, Ana.
In the bedroom, I open the closet door. There, hanging where Sawyer said it would be, is a dress bag.
“Taylor?” Ana’s surprised.
“Christian,” I state, feeling a little aggrieved that she would doubt me.
She laughs, in that indulgent way she has sometimes, unzips the bag, and takes out the dress. She draws a sharp breath as she holds it up. “It’s lovely,” she says. “Thank you. I hope it fits.”
“It will.” I hope. “And here.” From the depths of the closet I retrieve the box. “Shoes to match.”
High-heeled fuck-me pumps. My favorite.
“You think of everything. Thank you.” She kisses me, a sweet, chaste peck, and I flash her a quick grin, pleased.
“I do.” I hand her a second, smaller Nordstrom bag that weighs nothing and seems to be all tissue. Ana ferrets around inside and discovers the black lace lingerie to complement the dress. Tilting her chin up, I plant a soft kiss on her lips. “I look forward to taking this off you later.”
“So do I,” she whispers, and her words inspire my cock.
Not now, Grey.
“Shall I run you a bath?” I ask.