Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,200

“Oh, she was yar.”

She smiles. “Yar?”

“It’s a line from The Philadelphia Story. Grace’s favorite film.”

“I don’t know it.”

“I think I have it on Blu-Ray at home. We can watch it and make out.” Brushing my lips against her hair, I inhale her fragrance, sweeter now that José’s jacket has left with him. “Can I persuade you to eat something?”

“Not now. I want to see Ray first.”

I don’t push her.

“How were the Taiwanese?” she asks, and I think she’s steering the conversation to stop me from brooding about food.

“Amenable.”

“Amenable how?”

“They let me buy their shipyard for less than the price I was willing to pay.”

“That’s good?”

“Yes. That’s good.”

“But I thought you had a shipyard over here.”

“I do. We’re going to use that to do the fitting-out. Build the hulls in the Far East. It’s cheaper.”

“What about the workforce at the shipyard here?”

Good question, Mrs. Grey.

“We’ll redeploy. We should be able to keep redundancies to a minimum.”

I hope.

I kiss her once more. “Shall we check on Ray?”

Raymond Steele is in the last bed in the ICU ward. It’s a shock to see him out cold and hooked up to a range of high-tech medical equipment. This man intimidates me more than anyone I know, but right now, he looks vulnerable and sick. Real sick. He’s in an induced coma and on a ventilator; his leg is in plaster and his chest is wrapped in a surgical dressing. His modesty’s protected by a thin blanket.

Jesus. Ana is stunned when she sees him and blinks back tears of shock.

Her anguish is hard to witness.

What do I do? What do I say?

I can’t make this better for her.

A nurse is checking his various monitors. Her badge identifies her as KELLIE RN.

“Can I touch him?” Ana asks, and she reaches for Ray’s hand without waiting for a response.

“Yes,” Kellie says kindly. Standing at the end of the bed, I watch as Ana carefully covers Ray’s hand with hers. Abruptly, she sinks into the chair beside the bed, lays her head on his arm, and starts sobbing.

Oh no.

I move quickly to comfort her.

“Oh, Daddy. Please get better,” she pleads quietly. “Please.”

Feeling utterly fucking powerless, I place my hand on her shoulder and clasp it tightly, trying to offer her some reassurance. “All Mr. Steele’s vitals are good,” Kellie says quietly.

“Thank you,” I mutter, because I don’t know what else to say.

“Can he hear me?” Ana asks.

“He’s in a deep sleep. But who knows?”

“Can I sit for a while?”

“Sure thing.” Kellie gives Ana a warm smile.

Ana is where she needs to be right now, and I should make arrangements for us to stay in Portland. There’s no way we’re going home tonight. I squeeze her shoulder once more and she raises her eyes to mine. “I need to make a call.” I drop a kiss on her head. “I’ll be outside. I’ll give you some alone time with your dad.”

From the sixth floor waiting room I call my mother. This time she answers, and I update her on Raymond Steele’s condition.

She takes a deep breath. “It sounds critical. I want to come and see him—”

“Mom. You don’t—”

“No. Christian. I want to. Ana is family. I have to come down and check on him myself. Carrick and I will drive down.”

“I can fly you down.”

“What?”

“My helicopter is here, but Taylor is taking it back to Seattle. Stephan can fly you down here.”

“That sounds good. Let’s do that.”

“Okay. I’ll let Taylor know, and you can liaise with him.”

“I’ll do that. Christian, Ray is in good hands.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

I call Taylor and let him know about my mother.

Then I call Andrea. “Mr. Grey. How’s Mr. Steele?”

“He’s in serious condition. We’ll be here for at least two nights. I’m going to have to do something for Ana’s birthday here, if we do anything at all. Maybe a private dinner, if she’s up to it. I’d like her family and our friends to attend, too. But we should see how Ray does during the night.”

“I can talk to The Heathman and see if they’ll accommodate a private dinner.”

“Good. Ana needs her mom, so let’s bring her and her husband out as planned. Book rooms for them, for my folks and the rest of our guests, and make provisional arrangements to get them here. My mother will be joining us this evening. Please book her into The Heathman tonight.”

“Will do.”

“Find out José Rodriguez’s cell number. I’d like to invite him, too.”

“I’ll text you.”

“Thanks, Andrea.” I hang up and call Mrs. Jones to confirm that tomorrow’s