Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 5
Ioptforpancakes,maplesyrup,scrambledeggs,andbacon.Christiantriestohideasmileashereturnstohiseggwhiteomelet.Thefoodisdelicious.
“Tea?”heasks.
“Yes,please.”
HepassesmeasmallteapotofhotwaterandonthesaucerisaTwiningsEnglishBreakfastteabag.Jeez,heremembershowIlikemytea.
“Yourhair’sverydamp,”hescolds.
“Icouldn’tfindthehairdryer,”Imutter,embarrassed.NotthatIlooked.
Christian’smouthpressesintoahardline,buthedoesn’tsayanything.
“Thankyoufortheclothes.”
“It’sapleasure,Anastasia.Thatcolorsuitsyou.”
Iblushandstaredownatmyfingers.
“Youknow,youreallyshouldlearntotakeacompliment.”Histoneiscastigating.
“Ishouldgiveyousomemoneyfortheseclothes.”
HeglaresatmeasifIhaveoffendedhimonsomelevel.Ihurryon.
“You’vealreadygivenmethebooks,which,ofcourse,Ican’taccept.Buttheseclothes…pleaseletmepayyouback.”Ismiletentativelyathim.
“Anastasia,trustme,Icanaffordit.”
“That’snotthepoint.Whyshouldyoubuytheseforme?”
“BecauseIcan.”Hiseyesflashwithawickedgleam.
“Justbecauseyoucandoesn’tmeanthatyoushould,”Ireplyquietlyashearchesaneyebrowatme,hiseyestwinkling,andsuddenlyIfeelthatwe’retalkingaboutsomethingelse,butIdon’tknowwhatitis.Whichremindsme…
“Whydidyousendmethebooks,Christian?”Myvoiceissoft.Heputsdownhiscutleryandregardsmeintently,hiseyesburningwithsomeunfathomableemotion.Holycrap—mymouthdries.
