Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,179

happy that I pull him into a hug, surprising us both. “Way to go, Lelliot.”

Elliot stills for a nanosecond, no doubt shocked by my sudden display of affection, then he embraces me. “Thanks, Christian,” he says, his voice cracking on my name.

I hug Kate, quickly. “I hope you are as happy in your marriage as I am in mine.”

“Thank you, Christian. I hope so, too,” she says sweetly.

She can be sweet!

Maybe she’s not as annoying as I thought she was.

The waiter opens the champagne and pours it into our flutes. Taking mine, I hold it up to the happy couple in a toast. “To Kate and my dear brother, Elliot—congratulations.”

“Kate and Elliot,” we all murmur.

Ana is smiling.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

“The first time I drank this champagne.”

I frown, filing through the myriad memories I have of Ana.

“We were at your club,” she says.

The elevator. I grin. Ana with no panties. “Oh, yes. I remember.” I wink at her.

“Elliot, have you set a date?” Mia pipes up.

Elliot shakes his head, his exasperation obvious. “I’ve only just asked Kate, so we’ll get back to you on that, ’kay?”

“Oh, make it a Christmas wedding. That would be so romantic, and you’d have no trouble remembering your anniversary.” Mia claps her hands.

“I’ll take that under advisement.” Elliot smirks at her.

“After the champagne, can we please go clubbing?” Mia turns and gives me her most pleading look.

“I think we should ask Elliot and Kate what they’d like to do.”

Elliot shrugs and Kate blushes. I think she wants to return home to the seclusion of their room.

I walk to the front of the line with our guests and we’re ushered into Zax, the nightclub that Mia has set her heart on attending. The music is already thumping through the small lobby. I don’t know how long I’m going to last here.

“Mr. Grey, welcome back,” the receptionist says. “Max will take your coat.” Her words are directed at Ana. A young man dressed in black appears at her side. I think he approves of my wife’s appearance—a little too much, for my liking.

“Nice coat,” he says, admiring Ana’s…physique.

I glare at the little prick. Back off, bud.

He hastily hands me a coat-check ticket.

“Let me show you to your table.” The hostess bats her eyelashes at me, and Ana tightens her grip on my arm. I glance down at her, but her eyes are on the hostess, and we follow her into the club to a VIP seating area near the dance floor. “There’ll be someone along to take your order shortly.” The hostess waltzes off while we sit down.

“Champagne?” I ask, as Ethan and Mia both head to the dance floor, holding hands. Ethan gives me a thumbs-up.

“Show me your ring,” Ana asks Kate, while I turn my attention to my sister and Ethan on the dance floor. She’s making her usual crazy moves, but Ethan seems unconcerned and is following her lead.

The waitress arrives for our drink order.

Ignoring Elliot’s protest about paying, I reel off, “Bottle of Cristal, three Peronis, and a bottle of iced mineral water, six glasses.”

“Thank you, sir. Coming right up.”

Ana is shaking her head.

“What?” I ask her.

“She didn’t flutter her eyelashes at you.”

I must be losing my touch. I try hard not to grin. “Oh. Was she supposed to?”

“Women usually do.”

I smile. “Mrs. Grey, are you jealous?” And tipsy?

“Not in the slightest.” Though she pouts. I take her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing each knuckle.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, Mrs. Grey.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

The waitress returns with our drinks and opens the bottle of champagne with little fuss. She pours it, and Ana takes a sip.

“Here.” I hand her a glass of water. “Drink this.”

Ana frowns and I sigh. “Three glasses of white wine at dinner and two of champagne, after a strawberry daiquiri and two glasses of Frascati at lunchtime. Drink. Now, Ana.”

She scowls at me, probably because I’m keeping score. But she does as she’s told. I’m hoping she’ll avoid a hangover tomorrow. She wipes her hand over her mouth in a less-than-decorous way. I’m assuming it’s her version of a protest at my high-handedness. “Good girl. You’ve vomited on me once already. I don’t wish to experience that again in a hurry.”

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about. You got to sleep with me.”

This is true. “Yeah, I did.”

“Ethan’s had enough, for now,” Mia exclaims when they return from the dance floor. “Come on, girls. Let’s hit the floor. Strike a pose, throw some shapes,