Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           Iwantedtorunmyfingersthroughhisdecadent,untidyhair,butI’dbeenunabletomovemyhands.Iamretrospectivelyfrustrated.

           “Ilikedwhathappenedintheelevator,”ImurmurasIclimboutofthecar.I’mnotsureifIhearanaudiblegasp,butIchoosetoignoreitandheadupthestepstothefrontdoor.

           KateandElliotaresittingatourdiningtable.Thefourteen-thousand-dollarbookshavedisappeared.Thankheavens.Ihaveplansforthem.Shehasthemostun-Kate-likeridiculousgrinonherface,andshelooksmussedupinasexykindofway.Christianfollowsmeintothelivingroom,andinspiteofherI’ve-been-having-a-good-time-all-nightgrin,Kateeyeshimsuspiciously.

           “Hi,Ana.”Sheleapsuptohugme,thenholdsmeatarm’slengthsoshecanexamineme.ShefrownsandturnstoChristian.

           “Goodmorning,Christian,”shesays,andhertoneisalittlehostile.

           “MissKavanagh,”hesaysinhisstiff,formalway.

           “Christian,hernameisKate,”Elliotgrumbles.

           “Kate.”ChristiangivesherapolitenodandglaresatElliot,whogrinsandrisestohugme,too.

           “Hi,Ana.”Hesmiles,hisblueeyestwinkling,andIlikehimimmediately.He’sobviouslynothinglikeChristian,butthenthey’readoptedbrothers.

           “Hi,Elliot.”Ismileathim,andI’mawarethatI’mbitingmylip.

           “Elliot,we’dbettergo,”Christiansaysmildly.

           “Sure.”HeturnstoKateandpullsherintohisarmsandgivesheralong,lingeringkiss.

           Jeez…getaroom.Istareatmyfeet,embarrassed.IglanceupatChristian,andhe’swatchingmeintently.Inarrowmyeyesathim.