Fifty Shades Trilogy 02 - Fifty Shades Darker

himself in, then starts running through all his preflight checks. He’s just so competent. It’s very alluring. He puts on his headphones and flips a switch and the rotors speed up, deafening me.
    Turning, he gazes at me. “Ready, baby?” His voice echoes through the headphones.
    “Yes.”
    He grins his boyish grin. Wow—I’ve not seen it for so long.
    “Sea-Tac tower, this is Charlie Tango—Tango Echo Hotel, cleared for takeoff to Portland via PDX. Please confirm, over.”
    The disembodied voice of the air traffic controller answers, issuing instructions.
    “Roger, tower, Charlie Tango set, over and out.” Christian flips two switches, grasps the stick, and the helicopter rises slowly and smoothly into the evening sky.
    Seattle and my stomach drop away from us, and there’s so much to see.
    “We’ve chased the dawn, Anastasia, now the dusk,” his voice comes through on the headphones. I turn to gape at him in surprise.  
    What does this mean? How is it that he can say the most romantic things? He smiles, and I can’t help but smile shyly back at him.  
    “As well as the evening sun, there’s more to see this time,” he says.
    The last time we flew to Seattle it was dark, but this evening the view is spectacular, literally out of this world. We’re up among the tallest buildings, going higher and higher.
    “Escala’s over there.” He points toward the building. “Boeing there, and you can just see the Space Needle.”
    I crane my head. “I’ve never been.”
    “I’ll take you—we can eat there.”
    What? “Christian, we broke up.”
    “I know. I can still take you there and feed you.” He glares at me.
    I shake my head and flush before taking a less confrontational approach. “It’s very beautiful up here, thank you.”
    “Impressive, isn’t it?”
    “Impressive that you can do this.”
    “Flattery from you, Miss Steele? But I’m a man of many talents.”
    “I’m fully aware of that, Mr. Grey.”
    He turns and smirks at me, and for the first time in five days, I relax a little. Perhaps this won’t be so bad.
    “How’s the new job?”
    “Good, thank you. Interesting.”
    “What’s your boss like?”
    “Oh, he’s okay.” How can I tell Christian that Jack makes me uncomfortable? Christian turns and gazes at me.
    “What’s wrong?” he asks.
    “Aside from the obvious, nothing.”
    “The obvious?”
    “Oh, Christian, you really are very obtuse sometimes.”
    “Obtuse? Me? I’m not sure I appreciate your tone, Miss Steele.”
    “Well, don’t then.”
    His lips twitch into a smile. “I have missed your smart mouth.”  
    I gasp and I want to shout, I’ve missed you—all of you—not just your mouth ! But I keep quiet and gaze out the glass fishbowl that is Charlie Tango’s windshield as we continue south. The dusk is to our right, the sun low on the horizon—large, blazing fiery orange—and I am Icarus again, flying far too close.

    The dusk has followed us from Seattle, and the sky is awash with opal, pinks, and aquamarines woven seamlessly together as only Mother Nature knows how. It’s a clear, crisp evening, and the lights of Portland twinkle and wink, welcoming us as Christian sets the helicopter down on the helipad. We are on top of the strange brown brick building in Portland we left less than three weeks ago.  
    Jeez, it’s been hardly any time at all. Yet I feel like I’ve known Christian for a lifetime. He powers down Charlie Tango, flipping various switches so the rotors stop, and eventually all I hear is my own breathing through the headphones. Hmm. Briefly it reminds me of the Thomas Tallis experience. I blanch. I so don’t want to go there right now.  
    Christian unbuckles his harness and leans across to undo mine.  
    “Good trip, Miss Steele?” he asks, his voice mild, his gray eyes glowing.
    “Yes, thank you, Mr. Grey,” I reply politely.
    “Well, let’s go see the boy’s photos.” He holds his hand out to me and taking it, I climb out of Charlie Tango.
    A gray-haired man with a beard walks over to meet us, smiling broadly, and I recognize him as the old-timer from the last time we were here.
    “Joe.” Christian smiles and releases my hand to shake Joe’s warmly.
    “Keep her safe for Stephan. He’ll be along around eight or nine.”
    “Will do, Mr. Grey. Ma’am,” he says, nodding at me. “Your car’s waiting downstairs, sir. Oh, and the elevator’s out of order; you’ll need to use the stairs.”
    “Thank you,