Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVEMINUTESLATERHEdropsmeoutsidetheimpressivefaçadethatistheentrancetoEscala.
“Inyougo,ma’am,”hesays,holdingthedooropenforme.“I’llbringupyourluggage.”Hisexpressionissoft,warm,avunculareven.
Jeez…UncleTaylor,whatathought.
“Thankyouformeetingme.”
“It’sapleasure,MissSteele.”Hesmiles,andIheadintothebuilding.Thedoormannodsandwaves.
AsIrideuptothethirtiethfloor,athousandbutterfliesstretchtheirwingsandfluttererraticallyinmystomach.WhyamIsonervous?AndIknowit’sbecauseIhavenoideawhatkindofmoodChristian’sgoingtobeinwhenIarrive.Myinnergoddessishopefulforonetypeofmood;mysubconscious,likeme,isfraughtwithnerves.
Theelevatordoorsopen,andI’minthefoyer.ItissostrangenottobemetbyTaylor.Ofcourse,he’sparkingthecar.Inthegreatroom,ChristianisonhisBlackBerry,talkingquietlyashestaresthroughtheglassdoorsattheearlyeveningSeattleskyline.He’swearingagraysuitwiththejacketundone,andhe’srunninghishandthroughhishair.He’sagitated,tenseeven.Ohno—what’swrong?Agitatedornot,he’sstillafinesight.Howcanhelookso…arresting?
“Notrace…Okay…Yes.”Heturnsandseesme,andhiswholedemeanorchanges.Fromtensiontorelieftosomethingelse:alookthatcallsdirectlytomyinnergoddess,alookofsensualcarnality,hiseyesscorching.
Mymouthgoesdryanddesirebloomsinmybody…whoa.
“Keepmeinformed,”hesnaps,andshutsoffhisphoneashestridespurposefullytowardme.
