Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 7
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“Weirdly,Iseemtohavelostmyappetite,”Imurmurpetulantly.
“Youmusteat,Anastasia,”hescolds,and,takingmyhand,leadsmebackdownstairs.
Backintheimpossiblybigroom,Iamfilledwithdeeptrepidation.Iamontheedgeofaprecipice,andIhavetodecidewhethertojump.
“I’mfullyawarethatthisisadarkpathI’mleadingyoudown,Anastasia,whichiswhyIreallywantyoutothinkaboutthis.Youmusthavesomequestions,”hesaysashewandersintothekitchenarea,releasingmyhand.
Ido.Butwheretostart?
“You’vesignedyourNDA;youcanaskmeanythingyouwantandI’llanswer.”
Istandatthebreakfastbarwatchinghimasheopenstherefrigeratorandpullsoutaplateofdifferentcheeseswithtwolargebunchesofgreenandredgrapes.HesetstheplatedownontheworktopandproceedstocutupaFrenchbaguette.
“Sit.”Hepointstooneofthestoolsatthebreakfastbar,andIobeyhiscommand.IfI’mgoingtodothis,I’mgoingtohavetogetusedtoit.Irealizehe’sbeenthisbossysinceImethim.
“Youmentionedpaperwork.”
“Yes.”
“Whatpaperwork?”
“Well,apartfromtheNDA,acontractsayingwhatwewillandwon’tdo.Ineedtoknowyourlimits,andyouneedtoknowmine.Thisisconsensual,Anastasia.”
“AndifIdon’twanttodothis?”
“That’sfine,”hesayscarefully.
“Butwewon’thaveanysortofrelationship?”Iask.
“No.”
“Why?”
“ThisistheonlysortofrelationshipI’minterestedin.”
“Why?”
Heshrugs.“It’sthewayIam.
