Пятьдесят оттенков серого
Chapter 5
Iwanttoleanoverandgraspmyknees…butthat’sjusttooobvious.
Iglanceupathim.Helookssocoolandcalm,likehe’sbeendoingtheSeattleTimescrossword.Howunfair.Ishetotallyunaffectedbymypresence?Heglancesatmeoutofthecornerofhiseyes,andhegentlyblowsoutadeepbreath.Oh,he’saffectedallright—andmyverysmallinnergoddessswaysinagentlevictorioussamba.Thebusinessmenexitonthesecondfloor.Wehaveonemorefloortotravel.
“You’vebrushedyourteeth,”hesays,staringatme.
“Iusedyourtoothbrush.”
Hislipsquirkupinahalfsmile.“Oh,AnastasiaSteele,whatamIgoingtodowithyou?”
Thedoorsopenatthefirstfloor,andhetakesmyhandandpullsmeout.
“Whatisitaboutelevators?”hemutters,moretohimselfthantomeashestridesacrossthelobby.IstruggletokeepupwithhimbecausemywitshavebeenthoroughlyandroyallyscatteredalloverthefloorandwallsofelevatorthreeintheHeathmanHotel.
