Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           Hemusthaveuseditalready.Grabbingitquickly,Isquirttoothpasteonitandbrushmyteethindoubletime.Ifeelsonaughty.It’ssuchathrill.

           GrabbingmyT-shirt,bra,andpantiesfromyesterday,IputthemintheshoppingbagthatTaylorbroughtandheadbacktothelivingareatohuntformybagandjacket.Deepjoy,thereisahairtieinmybag.ChristianiswatchingmeasItiemyhairback,hisexpressionunreadable.IfeelhiseyesfollowmeasIsitdownandwaitforhimtofinish.He’sonhisBlackBerrytalkingtosomeone.

           “Theywanttwo?…Howmuchwillthatcost?…Okay,andwhatsafetymeasuresdowehaveinplace?…Andthey’llgoviaSuez?…HowsafeisBenSudan?…AndwhendotheyarriveinDarfur?…Okay,let’sdoit.Keepmeabreastofprogress.”Hehangsup.

           “Readytogo?”

           Inod.Iwonderwhathisconversationwasabout.Heslipsonanavypinstripedjacket,picksuphiscarkeys,andheadsforthedoor.

           “Afteryou,MissSteele,”hemurmurs,openingthedoorforme.Helookscasuallyelegant.

           Ipause,fractionallytoolong,drinkinginthesightofhim.AndtothinkIsleptwithhimlastnightand,afterallthetequilaandthethrowingup,he’sstillhere.What’smore,hewantstotakemetoSeattle.Whyme?Idon’tunderstandit.Iheadoutthedoorrecallinghiswords—There’ssomethingaboutyou—well,thefeelingisentirelymutual,Mr.Grey,andIaimtofindoutwhathissecretis.

           Wewalkinsilencedownthecorridortowardtheelevator.Aswewait,Ipeekupathimthroughmylashes,andhelooksoutofthecornerofhiseyesdownatme.