the back of his knuckles. “You find my proposal amusing, Miss Steele?”
Oh, Fifty! Reaching up, I caress his cheek tenderly, enjoying the feel of the stubble beneath my fingers. Lord, I love this man.
“Mr. Grey . . . Christian. Your sense of timing is without doubt . . .” I gaze up at him as words fail me.
He smirks at me, but the crinkling around his eyes shows me that he’s hurt. It’s sobering.
“You’re cutting me to the quick here, Ana. Will you marry me?”
I sit up and lean over him, placing my hands on his knees. I stare into his lovely face. “Christian, I’ve met your psycho ex with a gun, been thrown out of my apartment, had you go thermonuclear Fifty on me—”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand. He obediently shuts his mouth.
“You’ve just revealed some, quite frankly, shocking information about yourself, and now you’ve asked me to marry you.”
He moves his head from side to side as if considering the facts. He’s amused. Thank heavens.
“Yes, I think that’s a fair and accurate summary of the situation,” he says dryly.
I shake my head at him. “Whatever happened to delayed gratification?”
“I got over it, and I’m now a firm advocate of instant gratification. Carpe diem, Ana,” he whispers.
“Look Christian, I’ve known you for about three minutes, and there’s so much more I need to know. I’ve had too much to drink, I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I want to go to bed. I need to consider your proposal just as I considered that contract you gave me. And”—I press my lips together to show my displeasure but also to lighten the mood between us—“that wasn’t the most romantic proposal.”
He tilts his head to one side and his lips quirk up in a smile. “Fair point well made, as ever, Miss Steele,” he breathes, his voice laced with relief. “So that’s not a no?”
I sigh. “No, Mr. Grey, it’s not a no, but it’s not a yes either. You’re only doing this because you’re scared, and you don’t trust me.”
“No, I’m doing this because I’ve finally met someone I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Oh. My heart skips a beat and inside I melt. How is it that in the middle of the most fucked-up situations he can say the most romantic things? My mouth pops open in shock.
“I never thought that would happen to me,” he continues, his expression radiating pure undiluted sincerity.
I gape at him, searching for the right words.
“Can I think about it . . . please? And think about everything else that’s happened today? What you’ve just told me? You asked for patience and faith. Well, back at you, Grey. I need those now.”
His eyes search mine and after a beat, he leans forward and tucks my hair behind my ear.
“I can live with that.” He kisses me quickly on the lips. “Not very romantic, eh?” He raises his eyebrows, and I give him an admonishing shake of my head. “Hearts and flowers?” he asks softly.
I nod and he gives me a slight smile.
“You’re hungry?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t eat.” His eyes frost and his jaw hardens.
“No, I didn’t eat.” I sit back on my heels and regard him passively. “Being thrown out of my apartment after witnessing my boyfriend interacting intimately with his ex-submissive considerably suppressed my appetite.” I glare at him and fist my hands on my hips.
Christian shakes his head and rises gracefully to his feet. Oh, finally we can get off the floor. He holds his hand out to me.
“Let me fix you something to eat,” he says.
“Can’t I just go to bed?” I mutter wearily as I place my hand in his.
He pulls me up. I am stiff. He gazes down at me, his expression soft.
“No, you need to eat. Come.” Bossy Christian is back, and it’s a relief.
He leads me to the kitchen area and ushers me toward a bar stool as he heads to the fridge. I glance at my watch. Jeez, nearly eleven thirty and I have to get up for work in the morning.
“Christian, I’m really not hungry.”
He studiously ignores me as he ferrets through the enormous fridge. “Cheese?” he asks.
“Not at this hour.”
“Pretzels?”
“In the fridge? No,” I snap.
He turns and grins at me. “You don’t like pretzels?”
“Not at eleven thirty. Christian, I’m going to bed. You can rummage around in your refrigerator for the rest of the night if you want. I’m tired, and I’ve had far too interesting a