Christian and Anastasia
BOOK III - Ch VI (snippet #2)
.....
Muffled sound of music can be heard through Elliot’s door, but not enough to be counted as a nuisance. Tom Rhodes opens the door with an impassive gaze, but he gives us a courteous smile after seeing who the guests are.
“Mr. Grey. Mr. Taylor,” he says by the way of greeting. “This way sir,” he ushers us in.
“Hey! Man of the hour is here!” says the group of men inside. Dad, Elliot, Flynn, Mac, Bastille, three guys who are working on remodeling our new home with Elliot are also there. Dad’s bodyguards Tony Citoli and Joe Genarro standing by the balcony door; one watching dad, and the others watching the remainder of the guests actually do look like two Rambos with military haircuts. I suppress a smile. At a corner of the large room, by one of the floor to ceiling windows some live music equipment is set up. I look at Taylor with narrowed eyes, and he shrugs.
“Are they checked?” I ask under my breath.
“Yes, sir, everyone.”
Elliot sidles up to me looking much better. I look at him quizzical.
“Don’t worry bro. That’s a gift from dad and Flynn. He called in some favor in your honor.”
Elliot takes his glass of champagne and clicking with his fork, “people! May I have your attention please!” he calls to the chatty crowd. When the noise dies down, everyone looks at Elliot expectantly.
“Thank you! Welcome everyone! My little brother Christian, Seattle’s most eligible bachelor,” he says grinning at me, “has consented to hang his hat up in bachelorhood, and we are here to celebrate his last two days as a single man. Here’s to my brother!” he says raising his glass up, and the rest of the group raise their wine glasses or beer bottles up, calling “hear, hear!”
“Help yourself with food and drinks, and let’s make this party a memorable one for him! The guest of honor tonight, besides my brother is here...” he says turning and pointing to the bandstand as the lights dim.
Upon hearing the first two notes in the music, my head snaps to my dad and Flynn in surprise. Then in walks one of my most favorite musicians singing one of my most favorite songs!
“How?” I mouth to dad.
This is his way of making up to me, and he is completely pleased with my reaction.
One of my most favorite artists starts crooning one of my most favorite songs, and I’m completely mesmerized. Maybe it’s not going to be such a bad party after all...
“Hey little girl is your daddy home
Did he go away and leave you all alone
I got a bad desire
I’m on fire
Tell me now baby is he good to you
Can he do to you the things that I do
I can take you higher
I’m on fire
Sometimes it's like someone took a knife baby
Edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley
Through the middle of my soul
At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet
And a freight train running through the
Middle of my head
Only you can cool my desire
I’m on fire”
Then he sings "Dancing in the Dark," and the last song he sings speaks to me personally, "Tougher than the Rest." Though I don't know if I'm tougher than the rest when it comes to Anastasia. Somehow I find myself slowly singing to the music.
"Well it’s Saturday night
You’re all dressed up in blue
I been watching you awhile
Maybe you been watching me too
So somebody ran out
Left somebody’s heart in a mess
Well if you’re looking for love
Honey I’m tougher than the rest
Some girls they want a handsome Dan
Or some good-lookin’ Joe, on their arm
Some girls like a sweet-talkin’ Romeo
Well ’round here baby
I learned you get what you can get
So if you’re rough enough for love
Honey I’m tougher than the rest
The road is dark
And it’s a thin thin line
But I want you to know I’ll walk it for you any time
Maybe your other boyfriends
Couldn’t pass the test
Well if you’re rough and ready for love
Honey I’m tougher than the rest
Well it ain’t no secret
I’ve been around a time or two
Well I don’t know baby maybe you’ve been around too
Well there’s another dance
All you gotta do is say yes
And if you’re rough and ready for love
Honey I’m tougher than the rest
If you’re rough enough for love
Baby I’m tougher than the rest"
When he is finished with the songs, he comes to shake hands.
"Congratulations man! This is all the available time I have. It so happens that I too have something special going on this evening here in Seattle. But I wanted to return a favor to Flynn and Carrick. Your dad and I go way back. When he said you were his son, I made the time to be here to contribute in making your night a little more special even if I can't stay longer," he says in his trademark smile.
"No, don't worry about it! Thank you! What you did...This was incredible!" I find myself saying. "I loved it! Thank you, and thank you dad, Flynn," I shake their hands. I'm bewildered that they would go out their ways to arrange this or even remember that I liked Springsteen.
"Well, Christian, I wish you every happiness, man!" he says, and Rhodes shows him the way out.
"Mr. Grey?" Rhodes pulls Elliot to side.
"Yeah?"
"There are three police officers at the door. Apparently there has been noise complaint, sir." Elliot checks his watch.
Everyone's mingling with each other, and Bastille is talking about the new Brazilian Capoeira he's been practicing.
"Hey Grey! If your brother can put some music on, I can show you a few moves," he says with a wide grin. Three police officers enter into the living room after a puzzled Elliot. His reaction confuses me, and I turn and look at Taylor who looks like man who is caught without his pants on in the wrong woman's bed by her husband! He steps in front of me. Something's wrong with this picture.
"Unexpected guests?"
"Looks like it. I don't have them on my list, unless Mr. Grey made a change in his plans," he replies.
The male police officer turns and asks, "Is there a party going on here?"
"Yes, officer, it's bachelor party, in my brother's honor."
"We received a noise complaint from the neighbors."
"There hasn't been any noise officer," says Taylor.
"That's right, we've been told the party is too dull!" says the female office and rips her Velcro uniform off her back as the male imposter officer turns the music on.
"Fuck!" I hiss under my breath. I promised Anastasia I wouldn't stay for the strippers. My father's face takes a stern look and he gazes at Elliot who has the look of a child who's got his hand caught in the wrong cookie jar!
The music starts blasting “Sweet Dreams” by the Eurythmics. The two female dancers dressed as cops start dancing provocatively, suggestively around among the hoots and raging male hormones in the room. One long haired blonde and one long haired brunette dancer. The duo make their way around teasing the guests in the room.
(Striptease – Eurythmics Sweet Dreams)
“Yeah! Now it’s a party!” shouts one of Elliot’s guys. “We were beginning to think you were gay, Elliot! I can’t wait to tell the guys about this party!” Elliot shrugs, relaxed but confused a little. The dark long haired dancer makes her way towards me grinding her hips to Bastille who grins in response and showcases some of his moves he’s been practicing in Brazilian Capoeira. She eyes me under her eyelashes, but doesn’t make her way towards me just yet as Taylor positions himself between the dancer and me. The blond dancer wraps a black boa around her neck, and makes her way around shaking, dancing and teasing the men in the room. She wraps the boa around one of Elliot’s guys. He starts dancing and grinding which she easily accommodates and encourages. Even though the male dancer remains behind, and coordinates the music, has divested his shirt; but so far his pants remain on. He only has his bowtie, and still has his cop hat on. The lights are dimmed, the music is blasting, girls are dancing, and their proactive moves combined with the overwhelming raging male hormones and booze is yielding to something I don’t wish to be a part of.
The dark haired dancer turns around, bends down and grinds her ass into one of the bodyguards, Citoli I think who remains impassive, shaking his head, and I can read his lips saying, ‘no ma’am!’ sternly. As the dancers make their way around, I eye the door. Now would be a good time to leave, but I don’t want to appear like I’m running away. The male dancer shakes and grinds all by himself and occasionally one of the dancers go to him and the duo performs a suggestive dance making the men go wild in the room, except for me, dad and Flynn and the security guys of course. Flynn seems to be enjoying himself but in an observant way, and not a participant. He occasionally looks at me to see my reaction. I’m standing rigidly with my drink in my hand. Both the dancers circle around the room from the opposite ends and finally make their way to me. The blond tosses her boa around my neck, and the dark haired one takes possession of the end of it. I shake my head saying ‘no’ and guys in the room whistle, applaud, and hoot, some of them shouting ‘yeah!’
Taylor makes a move to get the dancers out of the way.
“Come on man! Let the guy enjoy his last day of freedom!” shouts one of Elliot’s friends. The blonde and brunette touch my arms and I flinch taking a step back.
“No!” I say sternly. Among the hoots of the crowd, I notice that male dancer is trying to have an unobstructed view for himself. As Taylor is trying to get the girls away, who also dance around him and tease him, I notice a tiny red dot on the guy’s hat. Dad’s bodyguards move in to help Taylor.
“Stop the fucking music!” I say in a clear voice. “Turn the fucking lights on.”
“Come on man! Don’t be gay!”
With that Taylor grabs Elliot’s friend by the scruff of his neck, and drags him outside, and closes the door behind. The music is stopped.
“Alright, we’ll leave!” says male dancer to the disappointed noises in the group. I look at Taylor imperceptibly directing him to the male dancer with my eyes.
“Not so fast!” says Taylor and swiftly moves.
“I’m not gay, man! Don’t manhandle me!”
“Neither am I! Don’t worry; your virginity will remain intact!” Taylor mutters. Taylor removes guy’s hat, and discovers a spy camera concealed in his hat.
“What do we have here?” It’s not so much a question, but a statement.
Taylor’s head turns to Elliot who looks completely bewildered and surprised. “They aren’t the dancers I hired!” he blurts out.
“Now you tell me!?!” Taylor yells. He eyes Citoli who quickly moves to lock the door.
“No one leaves until we clear this all out!”
“The guy you just threw out hired us telling us we’re to dance, and get the crowd as wild as possible as a favor to his boss. Candy here specializes in sex-o-gram,” he nods pointing the dark haired dancer. “So, I had to record every act, and give it to him!”
“Who the hell is he?” I ask Elliot.
“One of my foremen. My friend,” he says dumbstruck.
“How well do you know him Mr. Grey?” Taylor asks sternly.
“He’s worked for me for six years. I work with the guy five days a week. He’s a guys’ guy. He’s never been dishonest. I mean he’s got raging hormones, but, he’s one of the guys!” says Elliot if that would do.
“Where were you supposed to deliver him the video?” asks Elliot grabbing the guy’s neck with one hand and without effort.
“After the party, there’s a Starbuck’s at the corner. He was going to give us two grand extra if we got the groom getting orals from Candy,” he says with his voice going rough.
“Fuck!”
“What else?” I ask. “Clearly this isn’t it!”
“Come on sugar! We’ll do it free of charge for all of you on the house, if you just let us go,” whispers Candy the sex-o-gram.
“Shut up!” says Citoli moving along with Taylor.
“Well? There is something else you’re hiding. What is it?” I ask my gaze fixed on the male dancer. He swallows but says nothing. I push Taylor out of the way.
“I am a busy and impatient man. I don’t grant time for anyone especially for the likes of you. But, I’m giving you two minutes of my time before you get to spend a good deal of your worthless life in jail.”
“What for man?” he asks eyes going wide.
“I have expensive lawyers, I’m sure they can find something,” I say with cold malice in my voice.
“There are six bodyguards in this room. Do you think you can leave this room uninjured? And you’re trespassing.”
“Look man, I make money with my looks. I don’t want any trouble. Like I said, the guy that your muscle just kicked out has hired us. We were to get you guys wild, perform some orals for each of you and then deliver him the videotape. But if you don’t press charges, I can tell you something else...” he says trying to bargain.
“Right now, I’m debating whether you can leave with your life intact!” I hiss and Flynn makes a move to intervene, but I hold my hand up. “What? You volunteer, I press charges, but you leave the building alive in police custody! That’s all the concessions I’m willing to make.”
“Fuck! He said, if we could get you as wild as possible, and videotape you we’d end up getting a total of 15 grand each! The price would double if my other dancers performed similar acts at your fiancée’s bachelorette party! Ninety grand in one night! Where else could we make that kind of money?”
Taylor’s eyes dart at me. He leans in.
“I don’t buy it, Mr. Grey. The guy I threw out may be a jerk, but he checked out. He’s clean. This fucker is dealing with someone else, and he’s trying to thwart attention from the real perp. But let’s play along, and see where it takes us,” he says.
Then he turns to Elliot’s bodyguards in a loud boom, “Get your fucking selves useful! Get these fuckers’ identifications, addresses, and images. Call the cops; make sure they are thrown in jail tonight!”
“Yes sir!” shouts one of them.
“Elliot! Is Kate in her apartment tonight? Or is she planning to take Anastasia somewhere else?”
“Her party’s supposed to be at her apartment. She decided not to bring dancers after Ana told her no,” he says impishly.
“Uhm. Now would be a good time to tell you that Chip and Dale dancers are being sent to her bachelorette party as well. They were to tell her that you sent them to the party,” mutters the male dancer to Elliot, and with the built up rage, I punch him with all my strength.
“Taylor! Let’s go!” I bark, and turn to the door.
“Call your girlfriend and warn her! Now!” I growl at Elliot on my way out. Everyone in the room looks dumbstruck. I dial Anastasia’s cell phone but she doesn’t answer, or hear my call.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I curse as Taylor speeds through the streets of Seattle.
I dial Sawyer’s phone. He answers on the second ring.
“Sawyer!”
“Yes, sir,” he replies anxious.
“Are there dancers?”
“Yes, sir. Like you instructed, I’m trying to keep them away from Miss Steele.”
“How many?”
“Three, sir.”
I hear female laughter and delighted screams with loud thumping of music.
“They’re imposters! Nobody sent them! Take Miss Steele out immediately into a different room, and lock her in! Do you understand me? Lock her in the room! Make sure no one leaves the apartment especially the dancers! We’ll be there in four minutes!”
“Understood, sir!” he says, and I hang up.
I don’t have to tell Taylor the urgency of how fast we need to get there. The SUV’s tires screech and I see Citoli speeding up behind us. My hands are fisted, and I’m fucking pissed! Paparazzi? Someone with a grudge? Who is behind this?
We finally make it to Katherine Kavanagh’s apartment, and I don’t even wait for Taylor to come to a complete stop before I dart out of the SUV, and I hear Taylor mutter a curse under his breath. Music is still coming through the apartment and I make my way up to it three steps at a time.
I don’t wait to ring the doorbell. The door is locked, and I kick my way in. Taylor is running behind me. I hear Lilly gasp when she sees me, and I’m seething with anger. The second I walk in, I turn the music off. My gaze darts around the room looking for Anastasia. I don’t see her, but I see Katherine who says, “What the hell Grey? Why did you have Anastasia removed from the room?”
I don’t answer her; my gaze is fixed on the three Chip ‘n Dale dancers. Taylor and Citoli walks behind, one of them start guarding the door so no one leaves.
“Well, I’m waiting?” I say to the dancers. They look at me dumbstruck.
“Who hired you?”
“Mr. Elliot Grey,” answers one of them.
“Wrong answer,” I say with a glacial gaze before I punch him, and he lands on his ass on the floor as the girls shriek in the room.
“What are you doing?” Katherine jumps to her feet.
“Sit. Down!” I pin her down with my gaze and my finger pointing to the sofa.
“Who hired you?” I ask forcefully.
“Each of you were going to be paid fifteen grand tonight to record a video of a wild bachelorette party. But instead, you’ll get the beating of your lives. Now, if you don’t piss me any further, I may let you leave here conscious, and only in police custody. So, speak before I lose my temper!”
“I don’t know who it was!” the dancer I punched replies.
I hit him again. “Wrong! Answer!” I say enunciating. “No one agrees to do something without knowing who hired them. How would you be sure that your payment was secured? I ask you again... Each of you...” I say my gaze pinning them down. “Who hired you?”
“If you’re not saying it, I am!” said the one of the Chip ‘n Dales. I turn my head to him.
“Who?”
“Some tabloid reporter. The wilder the party, the better we were gonna to be paid,” he replies in a low chagrined voice.
“Shut up Austin!” says the first one who must still be hoping he’ll get his money. Taylor knees him in the groin before I make my move, and he’s writhing on the floor, groaning.
“Well?” I ask him as the other two dancers who are now eyeing their friend on the floor. They both swallow.
“We were supposed to get the girls wild. Especially the bride to be, Mia Grey and Miss Kavanagh, but mostly the bride... if we could get good footage with her being touched and pleasured, we were gonna get a lot money.”
All the girls give a collective gasp.
“What?” Kate shoots up to her feet. Then she leisurely walks before the dancer her eyes fixed on him and punches him on the chin, and kicks him in the family jewels! When he’s on the floor along with his friend writhing, she puts her high heeled shoe on his neck pressing him down and commands, “No one tries to fuck with me or my friends, and gets to live to talk about it! So, fuck you and your pitiful dancer buddies. You have less than 10 seconds to say the name of the fucker who wanted you to videotape us!” Then she leans in and whispers in a voice that only the dancers can hear. “Or I will make sure you disappear without a trace!”
“It’s a fucking freelance celebrity reporter who made deals with a couple of gossip magazines to sell the juiciest news! We’re just dancers, that’s all!”
“Name!” I bellow.
“I think it’s Tom Rodgers. We didn’t check his ID, but that guy always seems to get his hands on the juiciest celebrity images,” answers the only standing dancer.
“I wonder why...” answers Katherine.
“Citoli! Collect the identifications, and addresses of these fuckers! Call the cops. Where are you supposed to meet that guy?”
“At a sports bar downtown. O’Neill’s,” replies the only standing dancer nearly shaking.
“What does he look like?” asks Taylor.
“He’s 5’10” or 5’11”. 200 lbs. Dark, short hair. In his 30s. Wears a rock ‘n roll shirt all the time; either Def Leppard, Grateful Dead, Alice in Chains, Van Halen, Pink Floyd or something like that. Always have a toothpick in his mouth, like a pacifier. He has a scar on his cleft. Like he had cleft palate or somethin’ when he was a kid and had a corrective surgery. You can’t miss him. He’ll be there at 10 and will wait till 11,” he replies. I check my watch. 9:34 p.m.
“Citoli?” I ask.
“On their way sir. I’ll wait here.”
“Sawyer! Take Miss Steele home!”
“Yes, sir!”
Anastasia hearing my voice bangs on her old bedroom’s door. “Christian!” she calls out.
I nod at Sawyer indicating him to open the door.
I enter into the bedroom, and close the door behind. Anastasia looks at me with bewildered eyes. “What is going on?” she asks.
I remain silent, my face impassive, and I’m angry beyond control. “Christian?” she asks questioning.
“Anastasia, Sawyer will take you home.”
“What? Is it the dancers? I wasn’t getting involved. I stayed away in the kitchen, Christian. One of them came after me dancing, but I pushed him away. I didn’t break my promise, Christian,” she says and somehow relief floods through me. My gaze narrows on her, and she closes the distance between us, her hands reaching up to my face. Maybe it’s having her away all day long, or maybe it’s the overwhelming events of the evening, desire courses through me, and with her touch, I come alive, my cock goes into the full salute mode, all my synapses are fired up. I engulf her into my embrace, and kiss her passionately, my tongue darting into her mouth, invading, and loving, kissing, taking possession of her. All too soon, we’re both breathless.
“Home. Now! With Sawyer!” I order.
“But, why not with you?” she asks confused.
“I have to take care of something first, then I’ll be home.” I explain.
“But the party...” she says, and I interrupt.
“The dancers were hired thugs, Anastasia. I need you to go home with Sawyer immediately. Please, listen to what you are told to do for once in your life!” I plead with her.
“Okay... okay. I’ll go,” she acquiesces, surprising me. “Will you be home soon?”
“As soon as I can. We have a long day tomorrow,” I remind her.
I hold her hand and take her out of the bedroom. Sawyer is waiting with her purse and jacket.
“Take Miss Steele home, now!” I order.
“Yes, sir.”
Katherine comes to the door chagrined. “I’m so sorry Christian! I had no idea. They were so convincing. They said Elliot sent them.”
“You didn’t bother to ask him?”
“I called, but, no one answered. So, I assumed it was a gift for Ana. And he wouldn’t do anything you didn’t approve when it concerns Ana. I’m sorry. Again...” she says. I nod.
“Those guys are to be delivered to the cops only. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she says, perturbed. “That’s the least I can do. I’m so, so sorry Christian!” she adds again.
“Mr. Grey,” queries Taylor outside. “If you wish, Sawyer and I can take care of that fucker! Do you want to take Miss Steele home yourself?”
I narrow my gaze on him, and he holds his hands up in defeat.
“Let’s go then, sir.”
The drive to the bar doesn’t take as long. It’s not hard to spot him either with his Grateful Dead shirt as the dancer indicated. He’s not sitting at the bar though. He’s sitting close to the exit, like he’s going to make a run, and away from the prying eyes. The name sounded familiar, but now I know where I know this guy from! This is the fucking paparazzi that cornered Anastasia in the bathroom! He’s still harassing us, harassing her! Taylor has the same predatory look on his face which is probably mirrored on mine. We look at each other, coordinating, and nod. Taylor slips in to his right side, and I lean down to his left. I notice that Taylor slowly opens his jacket giving him a glimpse of his gun.
“How about you and I take a walk?” Taylor whispers to his ear, and locks his arm with the guy’s right side, and I lock my left arm with the fucker who now has a stunned face on him.
“Expecting someone else?” I ask. “What? Are we not handsome enough like the dancers you’ve hired?” I smile for the benefit of the people outside, and we quickly walk him to a side alley.
“Hold him up, Taylor,” I say and the scum bag dons a horrified face.
“I have rights!” he yells.
“So do I!” I hiss, and punch him before Taylor gets a chance to grasp his arms.
“On the second thought Taylor, let him fight.”
“I don’t wanna fight you man!” he says holding his jaw. “I just wanted to make a few bucks! What’s the big deal? You rich guys have fun all the time anyway! I was providing you with free entertainment for a small fee...” he says unashamed. I swing a roundhouse kick to his side buckling him on the ground.
“How the fuck would you know what I do or don’t do? My fiancée, and my family are off limits! I’m off limits! Do you get this fucker? Because if I see you sniffing around again, I’ll dismantle the establishment you sell any story to -- piece by fucking piece, and you won’t even be accepted among the homeless community!”
“I’ll sue!” he grunts.
“He’s still yapping sir, I can drop him off in the forest...” Taylor says shrugging with humor in his eyes.
“What? No, no! No! Man, I was just kidding! It’s the pain talking!” I look contemplating for a minute.
“It’s not a bad idea.”
“Let me frisk him first,” says Taylor.
“What have we here? Mr. Grey... This guy’s been bad.”
The fucker’s face falls. He has a little receiver in his man purse which looks like a small messenger bag. “Mr. Grey...” says Taylor through gritted teeth. He shows me a small image on an iPhone. All I see is a woman in an A line skirt with nice legs.
“What is this?” I ask to the guy.
“I can tell you what this is!” Taylor says kicking the fucker. “Fucking bastard! That’s Miss Kavanagh’s apartment!”
“What?”
“There is spy camera somewhere inside her apartment. One of his minions must have attached it.”
I immediately dial Welch.
“Yes, sir.”
“Get a sweep team into my brother’s apartment as well as his girlfriend’s apartment to search for any hidden cameras. Do the same for my place just in case. Sawyer should be home right now.”
“Have there been any deliveries lately?”
“Well, yes. There has been a steady flow of incoming boxes of gifts for the wedding, sir.”
“Have Mrs. Jones show your team the items that have arrived, and check each one of them.”
“I’ll call the security at your parents, your brothers and I’ll gather the team immediately, sir.”
“Good idea. Inform me right away!” I say.
“What shall we do with you?” I ask with a murderous tone.
“I have an idea, sir.”
“What?” I growl.
“I’d rather not say it,” he says with a steady gaze. “Let’s just say, tit for tat. I’ll make sure to pay him in kind, sir.” I want ask what he’s going to do, but, Taylor has the look of ‘do-you-trust-me-sir?’ and I just nod. Trust is hard to come by for me, but I do trust Taylor.
Taylor handcuffs the bastard, and improvises by tying the fucker’s mouth with handkerchief. Then he gets his Blackberry out, and texts something. Less than a minute later he gets an incoming text.
He shows it to me.
*ETA 16 minutes*
Within the allocated time, a Black SUV pulls into the alley, two men dressed in black with ski masks come out, and without a word, and they haul the muffled guy away kicking and if he could make a sound, he would be screaming.
“Where are they taking him?” I ask.
Taylor laughs. “To the Canadian Rockies.” When he sees my surprised face he explains. “I trained with those guys. They’re in Welch’s team. When you train for certain branches in the military,” he says cryptically, “you may be left in a remote mountain, in the desert or at sea with very little or basic supplies to find your way back to your predetermined location. I’m sure he’ll have a hell of a good time mingling with the wildlife, and camping. And if he does make his way home, he can join the seals. They’ll leave him enough supply to last for a week, and monitor him. It’ll give him a good scare.”
“You think he can manage to get back?” I ask with a wicked gleam.
“I’m sure he’s resourceful, sir. If he can’t utilize his personal wisdom, they’ll drop another week’s supplies, and after the week is up, they might drop another week’s supply...” he says and gives one of his rare smiles as if he’s not enjoyed himself this much in a long time. “You know Mr. Grey, the elements, and the outdoors have a way of teaching a man a whole different perspective, and to respect your betters. I really believe that we can help him clear his mind of his wayward thoughts of invading others’ privacy. If at the end of 4 weeks he can’t find his way back, my men will let the Mounties know about a lost hiker. I’m sure a few days of starvation will do him good,” he replies with a wicked grin.
I can’t help but grin back at him. “Let’s go home.”
“Yes, sir.” He replies. I knew there was a reason I trusted Taylor.
I am still tense, but looking forward to relaxing with one Miss Steele who is going to be Mrs. Christian Grey in less than a day. And there is a surface that we have not christened at home. It’d be a shame to have it go to waste tonight; knowing how tomorrow is going to be a very, very busy day.
.....