lavish attention I'm receiving from the remaining Greys, grabs my hand and pulls me to his side.
"Let's not frighten her away or spoil her with too much affection," he grumbles.
"Christian, stop teasing." Grace scolds him indulgently, her eyes glowing with love and affection for him.
Somehow, I don't think he's teasing. I surreptitiously watch their interaction. It's obvious Grace adores him with a mother's unconditional love. He bends and kisses her stiffly.
"Mom," he says, and there's an undercurrent in his voice - reverence maybe?
"Mr. Grey - goodbye and thank you." I hold out my hand to him, and he hugs me too!
"Please, call me Carrick. I do hope we see you again, very soon, Ana."
Our farewells said, Christian leads me to the car where Taylor is waiting. Has he been waiting here the whole time Taylor opens my door, and I slide into the back of the Audi.
I feel some of the tension leaving my shoulders. Jeez, what a day. I am exhausted, physically and emotionally. After a brief conversation with Taylor, Christian clambers into the car beside me. He turns to face me.
"Well, it seems my family likes you, too," he murmurs.
Too The depressing thought about how I came to be invited pops unbidden and very unwelcome into my head. Taylor starts the car and heads away from the circle of light in the driveway to the darkness of the road. I gaze at Christian, and he's staring at me.
"What?" he asks, his voice quiet.
I flounder momentarily. No - I'll tell him. He's always complaining that I don't talk to him.
"I think that you felt trapped into bringing me to meet your parents." My voice is soft and hesitant. "If Elliot hadn't asked Kate, you'd never have asked me." I can't see his face in the dark, but he tilts his head, gaping at me.
"Anastasia, I'm delighted that you've met my parents. Why are you so filled with self-doubtIt never ceases to amaze me. You're such a strong, self-contained young woman, but you have such negative thoughts about yourself. If I hadn't wanted you to meet them, you wouldn't be here. Is that how you were feeling the whole time you were there?"
Oh! He wanted me there - and it's a revelation. He doesn't seem uncomfortable answering me as he would if he were hiding the truth. He seems genuinely pleased that I'm here... a warm glow spreads slowly through my veins. He shakes his head and reaches for my hand. I glance nervously at Taylor.
"Don't worry about Taylor. Talk to me."
I shrug.
"Yes. I thought that. And another thing, I only mentioned Georgia because Kate was talking about Barbados - I haven't made up my mind."
"Do you want to go and see your mother?"
"Yes."
He looks oddly at me, like he's having some internal struggle.
"Can I come with you?" he asks eventually.
What!?
"Erm... I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
"I was hoping for a break from all this... intensity to try and think things through."
He stares at me.
"I'm too intense?"
I burst out laughing.
"That's putting it mildly!"
In the light of the passing street lamps, I see his lips quirk up.
"Are you laughing at me, Miss Steele?"
"I wouldn't dare, Mr. Grey," I reply with mock seriousness.
"I think you dare, and I think you do laugh at me, frequently."
"You are quite funny."
"Funny?"
"Oh yes."
"Funny peculiar or funny ha ha?"
"Oh... a lot of one and some of the other."
"Which way round?"
"I'll leave you to figure that out."
"I'm not sure if I can figure anything out around you, Anastasia," he says sardonically, and then continues quietly, "What do you need to think about in Georgia?"
"Us," I whisper.
He stares at me, impassive.
"You said you'd try," he murmurs.
"I know."
"Are you having second thoughts?"
"Possibly."
He shifts as if uncomfortable.
"Why?"
Holy crap. How did this suddenly become such an intense and meaningful conversationIt's been sprung on me, like an exam that I'm not prepared for. What do I sayBecause I think I love you, and you just see me as a toy. Because I can't touch you, because I'm too frightened to show you any affection in case you flinch or tell me off or worse -
beat meWhat can I say?
I stare momentarily out of the window. The car is heading back across the bridge. We are both shrouded in darkness, masking our thoughts and feelings, but we don't need the night for that.
"Why, Anastasia?" Christian presses me for an answer.
I shrug, trapped. I don't want to lose him. In spite of all his demands, his need to control, his scary vices. I