Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 7
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“Howdidyoubecomethisway?”
“Whyisanyonethewaytheyare?That’skindofhardtoanswer.Whydosomepeoplelikecheeseandotherpeoplehateit?Doyoulikecheese?Mrs.Jones—myhousekeeper—hasleftthisforsupper.”Hetakessomelargewhiteplatesfromacupboardandplacesoneinfrontofme.
We’retalkingaboutcheese…Holycrap.
“WhatareyourrulesthatIhavetofollow?”
“Ihavethemwrittendown.We’llgothroughthemoncewe’veeaten.”
Food.HowcanIeatnow?
“I’mreallynothungry,”Iwhisper.
“Youwilleat,”hesayssimply.DominatingChristian,itallbecomesclear.“Wouldyoulikeanotherglassofwine?”
“Yes,please.”
Hepourswineintomyglassandcomestositbesideme.Itakeahastysip.
“Helpyourselftofood,Anastasia.”
Itakeasmallbunchofgrapes.ThisIcanmanage.Henarrowshiseyes.
“Haveyoubeenlikethisforawhile?”Iask.
“Yes.”
“Isiteasytofindwomenwhowanttodothis?”
Heraisesaneyebrowatme.
“You’dbeamazed,”hesaysdryly.
“Thenwhyme?Ireallydon’tunderstand.”
“Anastasia,I’vetoldyou.There’ssomethingaboutyou.Ican’tleaveyoualone.”Hesmilesironically.“I’mlikeamothtoaflame.”Hisvoicedarkens.“Iwantyouverybadly,especiallynow,whenyou’rebitingyourlipagain.”Hetakesadeepbreathandswallows.
Mystomachsomersaults—hewantsme…inaweirdway,true,butthisbeautiful,strange,kinkymanwantsme.
“Ithinkyouhavethatclichéthewrongwayaround,”Igrumble.
