Fifty Shades Trilogy 02 - Fifty Shades Darker

finger, and twist it back, pulling it sharply down backward to his hip.
    “Arrgh!” he cries out in pain and surprise, and as he leans off balance, I bring my knee, swift and hard, up into his groin, and make perfect contact with my goal. I dodge deftly to my left as his knees buckle, and he collapses with a groan onto the kitchen floor, grasping himself between his legs.
    “Don’t you ever touch me again,” I snarl at him. “Your itinerary and the brochures are packaged on my desk. I am going home now. Have a nice trip. And in the future, get your own damn coffee.”
    “You fucking bitch!” he half screams, half groans at me, but I am already out the door.
    I run full pelt to my desk, grab my jacket and my purse, and dash to front reception, ignoring the moans and curses emanating from the bastard still prostrate on the kitchen floor. I burst out of the building and stop for a moment as the cool air hits my face, take a deep breath, and compose myself. But I haven’t eaten all day, and as the very unwelcome surge of adrenaline recedes, my legs give out beneath me and I sink to the ground.
    I watch with mild detachment the slow motion movie that plays out in front of me: Christian and Taylor in dark suits and white shirts, leaping out of the waiting car and running toward me. Christian sinks to his knees at my side, and on some unconscious level, all I can think is: He’s here. My love is here .
    “Ana, Ana! What’s wrong?” He scoops me into his lap, running his hands up and down my arms, checking for any signs of injury. Grabbing my head between his hands, he stares with wide, terrified, gray eyes into mine. I sag against him, suddenly overwhelmed with relief and fatigue. Oh, Christian’s arms. There is no place I’d rather be.
    “Ana.” He shakes me gently. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
    I shake my head as I realize I need to start communicating.
    “Jack,” I whisper, and I sense rather than see Christian’s swift glance at Taylor, who abruptly disappears into the building.
    “Fuck!” Christian enfolds me in his arms. “What did that sleazeball do to you?”
    And from somewhere just the right side of crazy, a giggle bubbles in my throat. I recall Jack’s utter shock as I grabbed his finger.
    “It’s what I did to him.” I start giggling and I can’t stop.
    “Ana!” Christian shakes me again, and my giggling fit ceases. “Did he touch you?”
    “Only once.”
    I feel Christian’s muscles bunch and tense as rage sweeps through him, and he stands up swiftly, powerfully—rock steady—with me in his arms. He’s furious. No !
    “Where is that fucker?”
    From inside the building we hear muffled shouting. Christian sets me on my feet.
    “Can you stand?”
    I nod.
    “Don’t go in. Don’t, Christian.” Suddenly my fear is back, fear of what Christian will do to Jack.
    “Get in the car,” he barks at me.
    “Christian, no.” I grab his arm.
    “Get in the goddamned car, Ana.” He shakes me off.
    “No! Please!” I plead with him. “Stay. Don’t leave me on my own.” I deploy my ultimate weapon.
    Seething, Christian runs his hand through his hair and glares down at me, clearly wracked with indecision. The shouting inside the building escalates, and then stops suddenly.
    Oh, no. What has Taylor done ?
    Christian fishes out his Blackberry.
    “Christian, he has my e-mails.”
    “What?”
    “My e-mails to you. He wanted to know where your e-mails to me were. He was trying to blackmail me.”
    Christian’s look is murderous. Oh shit. “Fuck!” he splutters and narrows his eyes at me. He punches a number into his Blackberry.
    Oh no. I’m in trouble. Who’s he calling?
    “Barney. Grey. I need you to access the SIP main server and wipe all Anastasia Steele’s e-mails to me. Then access the personal data files of Jack Hyde and check they aren’t stored there. If they are, wipe them . . . Yes, all of them. Now. Let me know when it’s done.”
    He stabs the off button then dials another number.
    “Roach. Grey. Hyde—I want him out. Now. This minute. Call security. Get him to clear his desk immediately, or I will liquidate this company first thing in the morning. You already have all the justification you need to give him his pink slip. Do you understand?” He listens for a moment and hangs up seemingly satisfied.
    “Blackberry,” he hisses at me through clenched teeth.
    “Please don’t be mad at me.” I blink up at him.
    “I am so mad at you right