temper is slipping. It’s time to back away before I say something I regret. I get up and try one last attempt. “Think about it. But for now, I have some work to finish.” And before she can stop me, I leave the library and head back into my study, trying to think of some way to get her to see sense.
One of us has to be in charge, for fuck’s sake.
I stomp over to my desk and slump into my chair, feeling blindsided by her attitude and resentful that I’m only now finding out that she won’t obey.
To hell with it.
I’ll have to make her see reason.
How?
Shit.
I’m too wound up to think clearly, so I shelve my frustration and open my computer to look through my e-mails. The good news is that my new sailplane will be arriving from Germany next week. It’s being shipped to my hangar at the Port of Ephrata. I allow myself a moment of excitement, a glider built for two. I want to run and tell Ana, but right now I’m mad at her.
Damn.
It’s depressing. To cheer myself up I reread the specs for the new aircraft, and when I’ve exhausted all there is to read, I get back to my financial reports.
A tentative knock interrupts me.
“Come in.”
Ana pokes her head around the door. “It’s nearly midnight,” she says with a winsome smile. She eases the door open and stands on the threshold dressed in one of her satin nightgowns. The soft material caresses her body, molding itself to every curve and dip, leaving nothing to my imagination. My mouth dries and my body responds, hot and heavy with longing.
“Are you coming to bed?” she whispers.
I ignore my arousal. “I have a few more things to do.”
“Okay.” She smiles, and I half smile in return, because I love her. But I’m not going to concede on this. She has to come to her senses. Ana turns to leave but gives me a quick provocative look over her shoulder before closing the door and leaving.
Once more I’m on my own.
Hell.
I want her.
But she won’t obey and that’s pissed me off. Big-time.
I turn back to the latest figures from Barney’s division at GEH. They’re not nearly as seductive as the delectable, and disobedient, Miss Steele.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Ana is fast asleep when I crawl into bed beside her. Ever thoughtful, she’s left my bedside light switched on so I won’t be lost in the dark. And yet, that’s exactly how I feel. Lost. And if I’m being honest, discouraged. Why can’t she understand? It’s not that big a deal, is it? Is it?
Watching her lovely, tranquil face and the steady rise and fall of her breasts as she sleeps, an ugly undercurrent looms beneath my ribs; it’s envy. I’m lying here, bewildered and miserable, and she’s sleeping like she hasn’t a care in the world.
But would I want her any other way?
Of course not. I want her happy and I want to protect her. But how can I do that if she’s not willing to obey me?
Deal with it, Grey.
Sighing, I lean over and brush her hair with my lips; it’s the gentlest of touches, as I don’t want to wake her. But I silently implore her to change her mind.
Please, Ana. Grant me this.
Switching off the light, I stare, unflinching, into the dark, and suddenly the silence in the room is deafening and oppressive. My heart rate doubles and I’m dragged down into a swamp of despair. It’s overwhelming. Maybe this is a huge mistake. Our marriage is never going to work if she can’t do this.
What was I thinking?
Maybe I want—no, need—someone more submissive.
I need to be in control.
Always.
Without control, there is chaos. And anger. And hurt, and fear…and pain.
Shit. What am I going to do?
This is an impossible hurdle to overcome.
Isn’t it?
But living without Ana would be unbearable. I know what it’s like to bathe in her light. She is warmth and life and home. She is everything. I want her by my side. I love her.
How can I get her to reconsider?
I rub my face, trying to fend off my bleak thoughts.
Get a grip, Grey. She’ll come around.
I close my eyes and try to utilize Dr. Flynn’s mindfulness exercises and find my happy place. Maybe a flowery bower in a boathouse…
I’m walking on air, soaring high in the sky above Ephrata. The Washington landscape is a patchwork beneath me. I wing over and marvel at the quilt of browns and blues and