Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 23
Hesmilesknowinglyather,hisgrayeyestwinkling.Inarrowmyeyesatthemboth.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”MyquestionsoundsmorebrittlethanImean,andhissmiledisappears,hisexpressionnowguarded.Iamthrilledtoseehimbutcompletelythrownoffbalance,myangeraboutMrs.Robinsonsimmeringthroughmyveins.Idon’tknowifIwanttoshoutathimorthrowmyselfintohisarms—butIdon’tthinkhe’dlikeeither—andIwanttoknowhowlonghehasbeenwatchingus.I’malsoalittleanxiousaboutthee-mailIjustsenthim.
“Icametoseeyou,ofcourse.”Hegazesdownatmeimpassively.Oh,whatishethinking?“I’mstayinginthishotel.”
“You’restayinghere?”Isoundlikeasophomoreonamphetamines,toohighpitchedevenformyownears.
“Well,yesterdayyousaidyouwishedIwashere.”Hepauses,tryingtogaugemyreaction.“Weaimtoplease,MissSteele.”Hisvoiceisquietwithnotraceofhumor.
Crap—ishemad?MaybetheMrs.Robinsoncomments?OrthefactthatIamonmythird,soontobefourth,Cosmo?Mymotherisglancinganxiouslyatthetwoofus.
“Won’tyoujoinusforadrink,Christian?”Shewavestothewaiter,whoisathersideinananosecond.
“I’llhaveaginandtonic,”Christiansays.“Hendricksifyouhaveit,orBombaySapphire.CucumberwiththeHendricks,limewiththeBombay.”
Holyhell…onlyChristiancouldmakeamealoutoforderingadrink.
“AndtwomoreCosmos,please,”Iadd,lookinganxiouslyatChristian.Iamdrinkingwithmymother—nowaycanhebeangryaboutthat.
