“howarethingswithyou,ana?”

foramoment,ihesitate,andiha一vemom’sfullattention.

“i’mfine.”

“ana?ha一veyoumetsomeone?”wow…howdoesshedothat?theexcitementinhervoiceispalpable.

“no,mom,it’snothing.you’llbethefirsttoknowifido.”

“ana,youreallyneedtogetoutmore,honey.youworryme.”

“mom,i’mfine.how’sbob?”asever,distractionisthebestpolicy.

laterthatevening,icallray,mystepdad,mom’shusbandnumbertwo,themaniconsidermyfather,andthemanwhosenameibear.it’sabriefconversation.infact,it’snotsomuchaconversationasaone-sidedseriesofgruntsinresponsetomygentlecoaxing.rayisnotatalker.buthe’sstillalive,he’sstillwatchingsoccerontv,andgoingbowlingandfly-fishingormakingfurniturewhenhe’snot.rayisaskilledcarpenterandthereasoniknowthedifferencebetweenahawkandahandsaw.allseemswellwithhim.

fridaynight,kateandiaredebatingwhattodowithourevening–wewantsometimeoutfromourstudies,fromourwork,andfromstudentnewspapers–whenthedoorbellrings.standingonourdoorstepismygoodfriendjosé,clutchingabottleofchampagne.

“josé!greattoseeyou!”igivehimaquickhug.“comein.”

joséisthefirstpersonimetwheniarrivedatwsu,lookingaslostandlonelyasidid.werecognizedakindredspiritineachofusthatday,andwe’vebeenfriendseversince.notonlydoweshareasenseofhumor,butwediscoveredthatbothrayandjoséseniorwereinthesamearmyunittogether.asaresult,ourfathersha一vebecomefirmfriendstoo.

joséisstudyingengineeringandisthefirstinhisfamilytomakeittocollege.he’sprettydamnbright,buthisrealpassionisphotography.joséhasagreateyeforagoodpicture.

“iha一venews.”hegrins,hisdarkeyestwinkling.

“don’ttellme–you’vemanagednottogetkickedoutforanotherweek,”itease,andhescowlsplayfullyatme.

“theportlandplacegalleryisgoingtoexhibitmyphotosnextmonth.”

“that’samazing–congratulations!”delightedforhim,ihughimagain.katebeamsathimtoo.

“waytogojosé!ishouldputthisinthepaper.nothinglikelastminuteeditorialchangesonafridayevening.”shegrins.

“let’scelebrate.iwantyoutocometotheopening.”josélooksintentlyatme.iflush.“bothofyou,ofcourse,”headds,glancingnervouslyatkate.

joséandiaregoodfriends,butiknowdeepdowninside,he’dliketobemore.he’scuteandfunny,buthe’sjustnotforme.he’smorelikethebrotherineverhad.katherineoftenteasesmethati’mmissingtheneed-a-boyfriendgene,butthetruthis–ijustha一ven’tmetanyonewho…well,whomi’mattractedto,eventhoughpartofmelongsforthosetremblingknees,heart-in-my-mouth,butterflies-in-my-belly,sleeplessnights.

sometimesiwonderifthere’ssomethingwrongwithme.perhapsi’vespenttoolonginthecompanyofmyliteraryromanticheroes,andconsequentlymyidealsandexpectationsarefartoohigh.butinreality,nobody’severmademefeellikethat.

untilveryrecently,theunwelcome,stillsmallvoiceofmysubconsciouswhispers.no!ibanishthethoughtimmediately.iamnotgoingthere,notafterthatpainfulinterview.areyougay,mr.grey?iwinceatthememory.iknowi’vedreamtabouthimmostnightssincethen,butthat’sjusttopurgetheawfulexperiencefrommysystem,surely?

iwatchjoséopenthebottleofchampagne.he’stall,andinhisjeansandt-shirthe’sallshouldersandmuscles,tannedskin,darkhairandburningdarkeyes.yes,josé’sprettyhot,butithinkhe’sfinallygettingthemessage:we’rejustfriends.thecorkmakesitsloudpop,andjosélooksupandsmiles.

saturdayatthestoreisanightmare.wearebesiegedbydo-it-yourselferswantingtospruceuptheirhomes.mr.andmrs.clayton,johnandpatrick–thetwootherpart-timers–andiareallrushedoffourfeet.butthere’salullaroundlunchtime,andmrs.claytonasksmetocheckonsomeorderswhilei’msittingbehindthecounteratthetilldiscreetlyeatingmybagel.i’mengrossedinthetask,checkingcataloguenumbersagainsttheitemsweneedandtheitemswe’veordered,eyesflickingfromtheorderbooktothecomputerscreenandbackasichecktheentriesmatch.then,forsomereason,iglanceup…andfindmyselflockedintheboldgraygazeofchristiangreywho’sstandingatthecounter,staringatmeintently.

heartfailure.

“misssteele.whatapleasantsurprise.”hisgazeisunwa一veringandintense.

holycrap.whatthehellishedoingherelookingalltousled-hairandoutdoorsyinhiscreamchunky-knitsweater,jeans,andwalkingboots?ithinkmymouthhaspoppedopen,andican’tlocatemybrainormyvoice.

“mr.grey,”iwhisper,becausethat’sallicanmanage.there’saghostofasmileonhislipsandhiseyesarealightwithhumor,asifhe’senjoyingsomeprivatejoke.

“iwasinthearea,”hesaysbywayofexplanation.“ineedtostockuponafewthings.it’sapleasuretoseeyouagain,misssteele.”hisvoiceiswarmandhuskylikedarkmeltedchocolatefudgecaramel…orsomething.

ishakemyheadtogathermywits.myheartispoundingafrantictattoo,andforsomereasoni’mblushingfuriouslyunderhissteadyscrutiny.iamutterlythrownbythesightofhimstandingbeforeme.mymemoriesofhimdidnotdohimjustice.he’snotmerelygood-looking–he’stheepitomeofmalebeauty,breathtaking,andhe’shere.hereinclayton’shardwarestore.gofigure.finallymycognitivefunctionsarerestoredandreconnectedwiththerestofmybody.

“ana.myname’sana,”imutter.“whatcanihelpyouwith,mr.grey?”

hesmiles,andagainit’slikehe’sprivytosomebigsecret.itissodisconcerting.takingadeepbreath,iputonmyprofessionali’ve-worked-in-this-shop-for-yearsfa?ade.icandothis.

“thereareafewitemsineed.tostartwith,i’dlikesomecableties,”hemurmurs,hisgrayeyescoolbutamused.

cableties?

“westockvariouslengths.shallishowyou?”imutter,myvoicesoftandwa一very.getagrip,steele.aslightfrownmarsgrey’sratherlovelybrow.

“please.leadtheway,misssteele,”hesays.itryfornonchalanceasicomeoutfrombehindthecounter,butreallyi’mconcentratinghardonnotfallingovermyownfeet–mylegsaresuddenlytheconsistencyofjell-o.i’msogladidecidedtowearmybestjeansthismorning.

“they’reinwiththeelectricalgoods,aisleeight.”myvoiceisalittletoobright.iglanceupathimandregretitalmostimmediately.damn,he’shandsome.iblush.

“afteryou,”hemurmurs,gesturingwithhislong-fingered,beautifullymanicuredhand.

withmyheartalmoststranglingme–becauseit’sinmythroattryingtoescapefrommymouth–iheaddownoneoftheaislestotheelectricalsection.whyisheinportland?whyishehereatclayton’s?andfromaverytiny,underusedpartofmybrain–probablylocatedatthebaseofmymedullaoblongatawheremysubconsciousdwells–comesthethought:he’sheretoseeyou.noway!idismissitimmediately.whywouldthisbeautiful,powerful,urbanemanwanttoseeme?theideaispreposterous,andikickitoutofmyhead.

“areyouinportlandonbusiness?”iask,andmyvoiceistoohigh,likei’vegotmyfingertrappedinadoororsomething.damn!trytobecoolana!

“iwasvisitingthewsufarmingpision.it’sbasedatvancouver.i’mcurrentlyfundingsomeresearchthereincroprotationandsoilscience,”hesaysmatter-of-factly.see?notheretofindyouatall,mysubconscioussneersatme,loud,proud,andpouty.iflushatmyfoolishwaywardthoughts.

“allpartofyourfeed-the-worldplan?”itease.

“somethinglikethat,”heacknowledges,andhislipsquirkupinahalfsmile.

hegazesattheselectionofcabletieswestockatclayton’s.whatonearthishegoingtodowiththose?icannotpicturehimasado-it-yourselferatall.hisfingerstrailacrossthevariouspackagesdisplayed,andforsomeinexplicablereason,iha一vetolookaway.hebendsandselectsapacket.

“thesewilldo,”hesayswithhisoh-so-secretsmile,andiblush.

“isthereanythingelse?”

“i’dlikesomemaskingtape.”

maskingtape?

“areyouredecorating?”thewordsareoutbeforeicanstopthem.surelyhehireslaborersorhasstafftohelphimdecorate?

“no,notredecorating,”hesaysquicklythensmirks,andiha一vetheuncannyfeelingthathe’slaughingatme.

amithatfunny?funnylooking?

“thisway,”imurmurembarrassed.“maskingtapeisinthedecoratingaisle.”

iglancebehindmeashefollows.

“ha一veyouworkedherelong?”hisvoiceislow,andhe’sgazingatme,grayeyesconcentratinghard.iblushevenmorebrightly.whythehelldoesheha一vethiseffectonme?ifeellikei’mfourteenyearsold–gauche,asalways,andoutofplace.eyesfrontsteele!

“fouryears,”imutteraswereachourgoal.todistractmyself,ireachdownandselectthetwowidthsofmaskingtapethatwestock.

“i’lltakethatone,”greysayssoftlypointingtothewidertape,whichipasstohim.ourfingersbrushverybriefly,andthecurrentisthereagain,zappingthroughmelikei’vetouchedanexposedwire.igaspinvoluntarilyasifeelit,allthewaydowntosomewheredarkandunexplored,deepinmybelly.desperately,iscrabblearoundformyequilibrium.

“anythingelse?”myvoiceishuskyandbreathy.hiseyeswidenslightly.

“somerope,ithink.”hisvoicemirrorsmine,husky.

“thisway.”iduckmyheaddowntohidemyrecurringblushandheadfortheaisle.

“whatsortwereyouafter?weha一vesyntheticandnaturalfilamentrope…twine…cablecord…”ihaltathisexpression,hiseyesdarkening.holycow.

“i’lltakefiveyardsofthenaturalfilamentropeplease.”

quickly,withtremblingfingers,imeasureoutfiveyardsagainstthefixedruler,awarethathishotgraygazeisonme.idarenotlookathim.jeez,couldifeelanymoreself-conscious?takingmystanleyknifefromthebackpocketofmyjeans,icutitthencoilitneatlybeforetyingitinaslipknot.bysomemiracle,imanagenottoremoveafingerwithmyknife.

“wereyouagirlscout?”heasks,sculptured,sensuallipscurledinamusement.don’tlookathismouth!

“organized,groupactivitiesaren’treallymything,mr.grey.”

hearchesabrow.

“whatisyourthing,anastasia?”heasks,hisvoicesoftandhissecretsmileisback.igazeathimunabletoexpressmyself.i’monshiftingtectonicplates.tryandbecool,ana,mytorturedsubconsciousbegsonbendedknee.

“books,”iwhisper,butinside,mysubconsciousisscreaming:you!youaremything!islapitdowninstantly,mortifiedthatmypsycheisha一vingideasaboveitsstation.

“whatkindofbooks?”hecockshisheadtooneside.whyishesointerested?

“oh,youknow.theusual.theclassics.britishliterature,mainly.”

herubshischinwithhislongindexfingerandthumbashecontemplatesmyanswer.orperhapshe’sjustveryboredandtryingtohideit.

“anythingelseyouneed?”iha一vetogetoffthissubject–thosefingersonthatfacearesobeguiling.

“idon’tknow.whatelsewouldyourecommend?”

whatwouldirecommend?idon’tevenknowwhatyou’redoing.

“forado-it-yourselfer?”

henods,grayeyesalivewithwickedhumor.iflush,andmyeyesstrayoftheirownaccordtohissnugjeans.

“coveralls,”ireply,andiknowi’mnolongerscreeningwhat’scomingoutofmymouth.

heraisesaneyebrow,amused,yetagain.

“youwouldn’twanttoruinyourclothing,”igesturevaguelyinthedirectionofhisjeans.

“icouldalwaystakethemoff.”hesmirks.

“um.”ifeelthecolorinmycheeksrisingagain.imustbethecolorofthecommunistmanifesto.stoptalking.stoptalkingnow.

“i’lltakesomecoveralls.hea一venforbidishouldruinanyclothing,”hesaysdryly.

itryanddismisstheunwelcomeimageofhimwithoutjeans.

“doyouneedanythingelse?”isqueakasihandhimthebluecoveralls.

heignoresmyinquiry.

“how’sthearticlecomingalong?”

he’sfinallyaskedmeanormalquestion,awayfromalltheinnuendoandtheconfusingdoubletalk…aquestionicananswer.igraspittightlywithtwohandsasifwerealiferaft,andigoforhonesty.

“i’mnotwritingit,katherineis.misska一vanagh.myroommate,she’sthewriter.she’sveryhappywithit.she’stheeditorofthemagazine,andshewasdevastatedthatshecouldn’tdotheinterviewinperson.”ifeellikei’vecomeupforair–atlast,anormaltopicofconversation.“heronlyconcernisthatshedoesn’tha一veanyoriginalphotographsofyou.”

greyraisesaneyebrow.

“whatsortofphotographsdoesshewant?”

okay.ihadn’tfactoredinthisresponse.ishakemyhead,becauseijustdon’tknow.

“well,i’maround.tomorrow,perhaps…”hetrailsoff.

“you’dbewillingtoattendaphotoshoot?”myvoiceissqueakyagain.katewillbeinseventhhea一venificanpullthisoff.andyoumightseehimagaintomorrow,thatdarkplaceatthebaseofmybrainwhispersseductivelyatme.idismissthethought–ofallthesilly,ridiculous…

“katewillbedelighted–ifwecanfindaphotographer.”i’msopleased,ismileathimbroadly.hislipspart,likehe’stakingasharpintakeofbreath,andheblinks.forafractionofasecond,helookslostsomehow,andtheearthshiftsslightlyonitsaxis,thetectonicplatesslidingintoanewposition.

ohmy.christiangrey’slostlook.

“letmeknowabouttomorrow.”reachingintohisbackpocket,hepullsouthiswallet.“mycard.ithasmycellnumberonit.you’llneedtocallbeforeteninthemorning.”

“okay.”igrinupathim.kateisgoingtobethrilled.

“ana!”

paulhasmaterializedatothertheendoftheaisle.he’smr.clayton’syoungestbrother.i’dheardhewashomefromprinceton,butiwasn’texpectingtoseehimtoday.

“er,excusemeforamoment,mr.grey.”greyfrownsasiturnawayfromhim.

paulhasalwaysbeenabuddy,andinthisstrangemomentthati’mha一vingwiththerich,powerful,awesomelyoff-the-scaleattractivecontrol-freakgrey,it’sgreattotalktosomeonewho’snormal.paulhugsmehardtakingmebysurprise.

“ana,hi,it’ssogoodtoseeyou!”hegushes.

“hellopaul,howareyou?youhomeforyourbrother’sbirthday?”

“yep.you’relookingwell,ana,reallywell.”hegrinsasheexaminesmeatarm’slength.thenhereleasesmebutkeepsapossessivearmdrapedovermyshoulder.ishufflefromfoottofoot,embarrassed.it’sgoodtoseepaul,buthe’salwaysbeenover-familiar.

wheniglanceupatchristiangrey,he’swatchinguslikeahawk,hisgrayeyeshoodedandspeculative,hismouthahardimpassiveline.he’schangedfromtheweirdlyattentivecustomertosomeoneelse–someonecoldanddistant.

“paul,i’mwithacustomer.someoneyoushouldmeet,”isay,tryingtodefusetheantagonismiseeingrey’seyes.idragpaulovertomeethim,andtheyweigheachotherup.theatmosphereissuddenlyarctic.

“er,paul,thisischristiangrey.mr.grey,thisispaulclayton.hisbrotherownstheplace.”andforsomeirrationalreason,ifeeliha一vetoexplainabitmore.

“i’veknownpauleversincei’veworkedhere,thoughwedon’tseeeachotherthatoften.he’sbackfromprincetonwherehe’sstudyingbusinessadministration.”i’mbabbling…stop,now!

“mr.clayton.”christianholdshishandout,hislookunreadable.

“mr.grey,”paulreturnshishandshake.“waitup–notthechristiangrey?ofgreyenterprisesholdings?”paulgoesfromsurlytoawestruckinlessthanananosecond.greygiveshimapolitesmilethatdoesn’treachhiseyes.

“wow–isthereanythingicangetyou?”

“anastasiahasitcovered,mr.clayton.she’sbeenveryattentive.”hisexpressionisimpassive,buthiswords…it’slikehe’ssayingsomethingelseentirely.it’sbaffling.

“cool,”paulresponds.“catchyoulater,ana.”

“sure,paul.”iwatchhimdisappeartowardthestockroom.“anythingelse,mr.grey?”

“justtheseitems.”histoneisclippedandcool.damn…ha一veioffendedhim?takingadeepbreath,iturnandheadforthetill.whatishisproblem?

iringuptherope,coveralls,maskingtape,andcabletiesatthetill.

“thatwillbeforty-threedollars,please.”iglanceupatgrey,andiwishihadn’t.he’swatchingmeclosely,hisgrayeyesintenseandsmoky.it’sunnerving.

“wouldyoulikeabag?”iaskasitakehiscreditcard.

“please,anastasia.”histonguecaressesmyname,andmyheartonceagainisfrantic.icanhardlybreathe.hurriedly,iplacehispurchasesinaplasticcarrier.

“you’llcallmeifyouwantmetodothephotoshoot?”he’sallbusinessoncemore.inod,renderedspeechlessyetagain,andhandbackhiscreditcard.

“good.untiltomorrowperhaps.”heturnstolea一ve,thenpauses.“oh–andanastasia,i’mgladmisska一vanaghcouldn’tdotheinterview.”hesmiles,thenstrideswithrenewedpurposeoutofthestore,slingingtheplasticbagoverhisshoulder,lea一vingmeaquiveringmassofragingfemalehormones.ispendseveralminutesstaringatthecloseddoorthroughwhichhe’sjustleftbeforeireturntoplanetearth.

okay–ilikehim.there,i’veadmittedittomyself.icannothidefrommyfeelingsanymore.i’veneverfeltlikethisbefore.ifindhimattractive,veryattractive.butit’salostcause,iknow,andisighwithbittersweetregret.itwasjustacoincidence,hiscominghere.butstill,icanadmirehimfromafar,surely?noharmcancomeofthat.andififindaphotographer,icandosomeseriousadmiringtomorrow.ibitemylipinanticipationandfindmyselfgrinninglikeaschoolgirl.ineedtophonekateandorganizeaphoto-shoot.

kateisecstatic.

“butwhatwashedoingatclayton’s?”hercuriosityoozesthroughthephone.i’minthedepthsofthestockroom,tryingtokeepmyvoicecasual.

“hewasinthearea.”

“ithinkthatisonehugecoincidence,ana.youdon’tthinkhewastheretoseeyou?”shespeculates.myheartlurchesattheprospect,butit’sashort-livedjoy.thedull,disappointingrealityisthathewashereonbusiness.

“hewasvisitingthefarmingpisionofwsu.he’sfundingsomeresearch,”imutter.

“ohyes.he’sgiventhedepartmenta$2.5milliongrant.”

wow.

“howdoyouknowthis?”

“ana,i’majournalist,andi’vewrittenaprofileontheguy.it’smyjobtoknowthis.”

“okay,carlabernstein,keepyourhairon.sodoyouwantthesephotos?”

“ofcourseido.thequestionis,who’sgoingtodothemandwhere.”

“wecouldaskhimwhere.hesayshe’sstayinginthearea.”

“youcancontacthim?”

“iha一vehiscellphonenumber.”

kategasps.

“therichest,mostelusive,mostenigmaticbachelorinwashingtonstate,justga一veyouhiscellphonenumber.”

“er…yes.”

“ana!helikesyou.nodoub一taboutit.”hertoneisemphatic.

“kate,he’sjusttryingtobenice.”butevenasisaythewords,iknowthey’renottrue–christiangreydoesn’tdonice.hedoespolite,maybe.andasmallquietvoicewhispers,perhapskateisright.myscalppricklesattheideathatmaybe,justmaybe,hemightlikeme.afterall,hedidsayhewasgladkatedidn’tdotheinterview.ihugmyselfwithquietglee,rockingfromsidetoside,entertainingthepossibilitythathemightlikemeforonebriefmoment.katebringsmebacktothenow.

“idon’tknowwhowe’llgettodotheshoot.levi,ourregularphotographer,can’t.he’shomeinidahofallsfortheweekend.he’llbepissedthatheblewanopportunitytophotooneofamerica’sleadingentrepreneurs.”

“hmm…whataboutjosé?”

“greatidea!youaskhim–he’lldoanythingforyou.thencallgreyandfindoutwherehewantsus.”kateisirritatinglyca一valieraboutjosé.

“ithinkyoushouldcallhim.”

“who,josé?”katescoffs.

“no,grey.”

“ana,you’retheonewiththerelationship.”

“relationship?”isqueakather,myvoicerisingseveralocta一ves.“ibarelyknowtheguy.”

“atleastyou’vemethim,”shesaysbitterly.“anditlookslikehewantstoknowyoubetter.ana,justcallhim,”shesnapsandhangsup.sheissobossysometimes.ifrownatmycell,stickingmytongueoutatit.

i’mjustlea一vingamessageforjoséwhenpaulentersthestockroomlookingforsandpaper.

“we’rekindofbusyoutthere,ana,”hesayswithoutacrimony.

“yeah,um,sorry,”imutter,turningtolea一ve.

“so,howcomeyouknowchristiangrey?”paul’svoiceisunconvincinglynonchalant.

“ihadtointerviewhimforourstudentnewspaper.katewasn’twell.”ishrug,tryingtosoundcasualanddoingnobetterthanhim.

“christiangreyinclayton’s.gofigure,”paulsnorts,amazed.heshakeshisheadasiftoclearit.“anyway,wanttograbadrinkorsomethingthisevening?”

wheneverhe’shomeheasksmeonadate,andialwayssayno.it’saritual.i’veneverconsidereditagoodideatodatetheboss’sbrother,andbesides,pauliscuteinawholesomeall-americanboy-next-doorkindofway,buthe’snoliteraryhero,notbyanystretchoftheimagination.isgrey?mysubconsciousasksme,hereyebrowfigurativelyraised.islapherdown.

“don’tyouha一veafamilydinnerorsomethingforyourbrother?”

“that’stomorrow.”

“maybesomeothertime,paul.ineedtostudytonight.iha一vemyfinalsnextweek.”

“ana,oneofthesedays,you’llsayyes,”hesmilesasiescapeouttothestorefloor.

“butidoplaces,ana,notpeople,”joségroans.

“josé,please?”ibeg.clutchingmycell,ipacethelivingareaofourapartment,staringoutofthewindowatthefadingeveninglight.

“givemethatphone.”kategrabsthehandsetfromme,tossinghersilkenred-blondehairoverhershoulder.

“listenhere,josérodriquez,ifyouwantournewspapertocovertheopeningofyourshow,you’lldothisshootforustomorrow,capiche?”katecanbeawesomelytough.

“good.anawillcallbackwiththelocationandthecalltime.we’llseeyoutomorrow.”shesnapsmycellphoneshut.

“sorted.allweneedtodonowisdecidewhereandwhen.callhim.”sheholdsthephoneouttome.mystomachtwists.

“callgrey,now!”

iscowlatherandreachintomybackpocketforhisbusinesscard.itakeadeep,steadyingbreath,andwithshakingfingers,idialthenumber.

heanswersonthesecondring.histoneisclipped,calmandcold.

“grey.”

“err…mr.grey?it’sanastasiasteele.”idon’trecognizemyownvoice,i’msonervous.there’sabriefpause.insidei’mquaking.

“misssteele.hownicetohearfromyou.”hisvoicehaschanged.he’ssurprised,ithink,andhesoundsso…warm–seductiveeven.mybreathhitches,andiflush.i’msuddenlyconsciousthatkatherineka一vanaghisstaringatme,hermouthopen,andidartintothekitchentoa一voidherunwantedscrutiny.

“err–we’dliketogoaheadwiththephoto-shootforthearticle.”breathe,ana,breathe.mylungsdraginahastybreath.“tomorrow,ifthat’sokay.wherewouldbeconvenientforyou,sir?”

icanalmosthearhissphinx-likesmilethroughthephone.

“i’mstayingattheheathmaninportland.shallwesay,ninethirtytomorrowmorning?”

“okay,we’llseeyouthere.”iamallgushingandbreathy–likeachild,notagrownwomanwhocanvoteanddrinklegallyinthestateofwashington.

“ilookforwardtoit,misssteele.”ivisualizethewickedgleaminhisgrayeyes.howcanhemakesevenlittlewordsholdsomuchtantalizingpromise?ihangup.kateisinthekitchen,andshe’sstaringatmewithalookofcompleteandutterconsternationonherface.

“anastasiarosesteele.youlikehim!i’veneverseenorheardyouso,so…affectedbyanyonebefore.you’reactuallyblushing.”

“ohkate,youknowiblushallthetime.it’sanoccupationalhazardwithme.don’tbesoridiculous,”isnap.sheblinksatmewithsurprise–iveryrarelythrowmytoysoutofthepram–andibrieflyrelent.“ijustfindhim…intimidating,that’sall.”

“heathman,thatfigures,”mutterskate.“i’llgivethemanageracallandnegotiateaspacefortheshoot.”

“i’llmakesupper.thenineedtostudy.”icannothidemyirritationwithherasiopenoneofcupboardstomakesupper.

iamrestlessthatnight,tossingandturning.dreamingofsmokygrayeyes,coveralls,longlegs,longfingers,anddark,darkunexploredplaces.iwaketwiceinthenight,myheartpounding.oh,i’mgoingtolookjustgreattomorrowwithsolittlesleep,iscoldmyself.ipunchmypillowandtrytosettle.

theheathmanisnestledinthedowntownheartofportland.itsimpressivebrownstoneedificewascompletedjustintimeforthecrashofthelate1920s.josé,tra一vis,andiaretra一velinginmybeetle,andkateisinherclk,sincewecan’tallfitinmycar.tra一visisjosé’sfriendandgopher,heretohelpoutwiththelighting.katehasmanagedtoacquiretheuseofaroomattheheathmanfreeofchargeforthemorninginexchangeforacreditinthearticle.whensheexplainsatreceptionthatwe’reheretophotographchristiangreyceo,weareinstantlyupgradedtoasuite.justaregular-sizedsuite,however,asapparentlymr.greyisalreadyoccupyingthelargestoneinthebuilding.anover-keenmarketingexecutiveshowsusuptothesuite–he’sterriblyyoungandverynervousforsomereason.isuspectit’skate’sbeautyandcommandingmannerthatdisarmshim,becausehe’sputtyinherhands.theroomsareelegant,understated,andopulentlyfurnished.

it’snine.weha一vehalfanhourtosetup.kateisinfullflow.

“josé,ithinkwe’llshootagainstthatwall,doyouagree?”shedoesn’twaitforhisreply.“tra一vis,clearthechairs.ana,couldyouaskhousekeepingtobringupsomerefreshments?andletgreyknowwhereweare.”

yes,mistress.sheissodomineering.irollmyeyes,butdoasi’mtold.

halfanhourlater,christiangreywalksintooursuite.

holycrap!he’swearingawhiteshirt,openatthecollar,andgreyflannelpantsthathangfromhiships.hisunrulyhairisstilldampfromashower.mymouthgoesdrylookingathim…he’ssofreakinghot.greyisfollowedintothesuitebyamaninhismid-thirties,allbuzz-cutandstubbleinasharpdarksuitandtiewhostandssilentlyinthecorner.hishazeleyeswatchusimpassively.

“misssteele,wemeetagain.”greyextendshishand,andishakeit,blinkingrapidly.ohmy…hereallyis,quite…wow.asitouchhishand,i’mawareofthatdeliciouscurrentrunningrightthroughme,lightingmeup,makingmeblush,andi’msuremyerraticbreathingmustbeaudible.

“mr.grey,thisiskatherineka一vanagh,”imutter,wa一vingahandtowardkatewhocomesforward,lookinghimsquarelyintheeye.

“thetenaciousmisska一vanagh.howdoyoudo?”hegivesherasmallsmile,lookinggenuinelyamused.“itrustyou’refeelingbetter?anastasiasaidyouwereunwelllastweek.”

“i’mfine,thankyou,mr.grey.”sheshakeshishandfirmlywithoutbattinganeyelid.iremindmyselfthatkatehasbeentothebestprivateschoolsinwashington.herfamilyhasmoney,andshe’sgrownupconfidentandsureofherplaceintheworld.shedoesn’ttakeanycrap.iaminaweofher.

“thankyoufortakingthetimetodothis.”shegiveshimapolite,professionalsmile.

“it’sapleasure,”heanswers,turninghisgraygazeonme,andiflush,again.damnit.

“thisisjosérodriguez,ourphotographer,”isay,grinningatjoséwhosmileswithaffectionbackatme.hiseyescoolwhenhelooksfrommetogrey.

“mr.grey,”henods.

“mr.rodriguez,”grey’sexpressionchangestooasheappraisesjosé.

“wherewouldyoulikeme?”greyaskshim.histonesoundsvaguelythreatening.butkatherineisnotabouttoletjoséruntheshow.

“mr.grey–ifyoucouldsithere,please?becarefulofthelightingcables.andthenwe’lldoafewstanding,too.”shedirectshimtoachairsetupagainstthewall.

tra一visswitchesonthelights,momentarilyblindinggrey,andmuttersanapology.thentra一visandistandbackandwatchasjoséproceedstosnapaway.hetakesseveralphotographshand-held,askinggreytoturnthisway,thenthat,tomovehisarm,thenputitdownagain.movingtothetripod,josétakesseveralmore,whilegreysitsandposes,patientlyandnaturally,forabouttwentyminutes.mywishhascometrue:icanstandandadmiregreyfromnot-so-afar.twiceoureyeslock,andiha一vetotearmyselfawayfromhiscloudygaze.

“enoughsitting.”katherinewadesinagain.“standing,mr.grey?”sheasks.

hestands,andtra一visscurriesintoremovethechair.theshutteronjosé’snikonstartsclickingagain.

“ithinkweha一veenough,”joséannouncesfiveminuteslater.

“great,”sayskate.“thankyouagain,mr.grey.”sheshakeshishand,asdoesjosé.

“ilookforwardtoreadingthearticle,misska一vanagh,”murmursgrey,andturnstome,standingbythedoor.“willyouwalkwithme,misssteele?”heasks.

“sure,”isay,completelythrown.iglanceanxiouslyatkate,whoshrugsatme.inoticejoséscowlingbehindher.

“gooddaytoyouall,”saysgreyasheopensthedoor,standingasidetoallowmeoutfirst.

holyhell…what’sthisabout?whatdoeshewant?ipauseinthehotelcorridor,fidgetingnervouslyasgreyemergesfromtheroomfollowedbymr.buzz-cutinhissharpsuit.

“i’llcallyou,taylor,”hemurmurstobuzz-cut.taylorwandersbackdownthecorridor,andgreyturnshisburninggraygazetome.crap…ha一veidonesomethingwrong?

“iwonderedifyouwouldjoinmeforcoffeethismorning.”

myheartslamsintomymouth.adate?christiangreyisaskingmeonadate.he’saskingifyouwantacoffee.maybehethinksyouha一ven’twokenupyet,mysubconsciouswhinesatmeinasneeringmoodagain.iclearmythroattryingtocontrolmynerves.

“iha一vetodriveeveryonehome,”imurmurapologetically,twistingmyhandsandfingersinfrontofme.

“taylor,”hecalls,makingmejump.taylor,whohadbeenretreatingdownthecorridor,turnsandheadsbacktowardus.

“aretheybasedattheuniversity?”greyasks,hisvoicesoftandinquiring.inod,toostunnedtospeak.

“taylorcantakethem.he’smydriver.weha一vealarge4x4here,sohe’llbeabletotaketheequipmenttoo.”

“mr.grey?”tayloraskswhenhereachesus,givingnothingaway.

“please,canyoudrivethephotographer,hisassistant,andmisska一vanaghbackhome?”

“certainly,sir,”taylorreplies.

“there.nowcanyoujoinmeforcoffee?”greysmilesasifit’sadonedeal.

ifrownathim.

“um–mr.grey,err–thisreally…look,taylordoesn’tha一vetodrivethemhome.”iflashabrieflookattaylor,whoremainsstoicallyimpassive.“i’llswapvehicleswithkate,ifyougivemeamoment.”

greysmilesadazzling,unguarded,natural,all-teeth-showing,glorioussmile.ohmy…andheopensthedoorofthesuitesoicanre-enter.iscootaroundhimtoentertheroom,findingkatherineindeepdiscussionwithjosé.

“ana,ithinkhedefinitelylikesyou,”shesayswithnopreamblewhatsoever.joséglaresatmewithdisapproval.“butidon’ttrusthim,”sheadds.iraisemyhandupinthehopethatshe’llstoptalking.bysomemiracle,shedoes.

“kate,ifyoutakethebeetle,canitakeyourcar?”

“why?”

“christiangreyhasaskedmetogoforcoffeewithhim.”

hermouthpopsopen.speechlesskate!isa一vorthemoment.shegrabsmebymyarmanddragsmeintothebedroomthat’soffthelivingareaofthesuite.

“ana,there’ssomethingabouthim.”hertoneisfullofwarning.“he’sgorgeous,iagree,butithinkhe’sdangerous.especiallytosomeonelikeyou.”

“whatdoyoumean,someonelikeme?”idemand,affronted.

“aninnocentlikeyou,ana.youknowwhatimean,”shesaysalittleirritated.iflush.

“kate,it’sjustcoffee.i’mstartingmyexamsthisweek,andineedtostudy,soiwon’tbelong.”

shepursesherlipsasifconsideringmyrequest.finally,shefisheshercarkeysoutofherpocketandhandsthemtome.ihandhermine.

“i’llseeyoulater.don’tbelong,ori’llsendoutsearchandrescue.”

“thanks.”ihugher.

iemergefromthesuitetofindchristiangreywaiting,leaningupagainstthewall,lookinglikeamalemodelinaposeforsomeglossyhigh-endmagazine.

“okay,let’sdocoffee,”imurmur,flushingabeetred.

hegrins.

“afteryou,misssteele.”hestandsupstraight,holdinghishandoutformetogofirst.imakemywaydownthecorridor,mykneesshaky,mystomachfullofbutterflies,andmyheartinmymouththumpingadramaticunevenbeat.iamgoingtoha一vecoffeewithchristiangrey...andihatecoffee.

wewalktogetherdownthewidehotelcorridortotheelevators.whatshouldisaytohim?mymindissuddenlyparalyzedwithapprehension.whatarewegoingtotalkabout?whatonearthdoiha一veincommonwithhim?hissoft,warmvoicestartlesmefrommyreverie.

“howlongha一veyouknownkatherineka一vanagh?”

oh,aneasyquestionsforstarters.

“sinceourfreshmanyear.she’sagoodfriend.”

“hmm,”hereplies,non-committal.whatishethinking?

attheelevators,hepressesthecallbutton,andthebellringsalmostimmediately.thedoorsslideopenrevealingayoungcoupleinapassionateclinchinside.surprisedandembarrassed,theyjumpapart,staringguiltilyineverydirectionbutours.greyandistepintotheelevator.

iamstrugglingtomaintainastraightface,soigazedownatthefloor,feelingmycheeksturningpink.whenipeekupatgreythroughmylashes,hehasahintofasmileonhislips,butit’sveryhardtotell.theyoungcouplesaysnothing,andwetra一veldowntothefirstfloorinembarrassedsilence.wedon’tevenha一vetrashypipedmusictodistractus.

thedoorsopenand,muchtomysurprise,greytakesmyhand,claspingitwithhislongcoolfingers.ifeelthecurrentrunthroughme,andmyalreadyrapidheartbeataccelerates.asheleadsmeoutoftheelevator,wecanhearthesuppressedgigglesofthecoupleeruptingbehindus.greygrins.

“whatisitaboutelevators?”hemutters.

wecrosstheexpansive,bustlinglobbyofthehoteltowardtheentrancebutgreya一voidstherevolvingdoor,andiwonderifthat’sbecausehe’dha一vetoletgoofmyhand.

outside,it’samildmaysunday.thesunisshiningandthetrafficislight.greyturnsleftandstrollstothecorner,wherewestopwaitingforthelightsofthepedestriancrossingtochange.he’sstillholdingmyhand.i’minthestreet,andchristiangreyisholdingmyhand.noonehaseverheldmyhand.ifeelgiddy,anditingleallover.iattempttosmothertheridiculousgrinthatthreatenstosplitmyfaceintwo.trytobecool,ana,mysubconsciousimploresme.thegreenmanappears,andwe’reoffagain.

wewalkfourblocksbeforewereachtheportlandcoffeehouse,wheregreyreleasesmetoholdthedooropensoicanstepinside.