Fifty Shades Trilogy 02 - Fifty Shades Darker

you are insatiable.”
    “I can’t think why.” I grab his hand, pull him from his study, and lead him to his bedroom. The room is chilly.
    “You opened the balcony door?” he asks, frowning down at me as we arrive in his room.
    “No.” I don’t remember doing that. I recall scanning the room when I woke. The door was definitely closed.
    Oh shit . . . All the blood rushes from my face, and I stare at Christian as my mouth falls open.
    “What?” he snaps, glaring at me.
    “When I woke . . . there was someone in here,” I whisper. “I thought it was my imagination.”
    “What?” He looks horrified and dashes to the balcony door, peers out, then steps back into the room and locks the door behind him. “Are you sure? Who?” he asks his voice tight.
    “A woman, I think. It was dark. I’d only just woken up.”
    “Get dressed,” he snarls at me on his way back in. “Now!”
    “My clothes are upstairs,” I whimper.
    He pulls open one of the drawers in his chest of drawers and fishes out a pair of sweatpants.
    “Put these on.” They are far too big, but he is not to be argued with.  
    He swipes a T-shirt, too, and quickly pulls it over his head. Grabbing the bedside phone, he presses two buttons.
    “She’s still fucking here,” he hisses down the phone.
    Approximately three seconds later, Taylor and one of the other security guys, burst into Christian’s bedroom. Christian gives them a précis of what has happened.
    “How long ago?” Taylor demands, staring at me all businesslike. He’s still wearing his jacket. Does this man ever sleep?
    “About ten minutes,” I mutter, for some reason feeling guilty.
    “She knows the apartment like the back of her hand,” says Christian. “I am taking Anastasia away now. She’s hiding here somewhere. Find her. When is Gail back?
    “Tomorrow evening, sir.”
    “She’s not to return until this place is secure. Understand?” Christian snaps.
    “Yes, sir. Will you be going to Bellevue?”
    “I’m not leading this problem to my parents. Book me somewhere.”
    “Yes. I’ll call you.”
    “Aren’t we all overreacting slightly?” I ask.
    Christian glowers at me. “She may have a gun,” he growls.
    “Christian, she was standing at the end of the bed. She could have shot me then, if that’s what she wanted to do.”
    Christian pauses for a moment to rein in his temper, I think. In a menacingly soft voice he says, “I’m not prepared to take the risk. Taylor, Anastasia needs shoes.”
    Christian disappears into his closet while the security guy watches me. I can’t remember his name, Ryan maybe. He looks alternately down the hall and to the balcony windows. Christian emerges a couple of minutes later with a leather messenger bag, wearing jeans and his pinstriped blazer. He drapes a denim jacket around my shoulders.
    “Come.” He clasps my hand tightly, and I have to practically run to keep up with his long strides into the great room.
    “I can’t believe she could hide somewhere in here,” I mutter, staring out the balcony doors.
    “It’s a big place. You haven’t seen it all yet.”
    “Why don’t you just call her . . . tell her you want to talk to her?”
    “Anastasia, she’s unstable, and she may be armed,” he says irritably.
    “So we just run?”
    “For now—yes.”
    “Supposing she tries to shoot Taylor?”
    “Taylor knows and understands guns,” he says with distaste. “He’ll be quicker with a gun than she is.”
    “Ray was in the army. He’s taught me to shoot.”
    Christian raises his eyebrows and for a moment looks utterly bemused. “You, with a gun?” he says incredulously.
    “Yes.” I am affronted. “I can shoot, Mr. Grey, so you’d better beware. It’s not just crazy ex-subs you need to worry about.”
    “I’ll bear that in mind, Miss Steele,” he answers dryly, amused, and it feels good to know that even in this ridiculously tense situation, I can make him smile.
    Taylor meets us in the foyer and hands me my small suitcase and my black Converse. I am stunned that he’s packed me some clothes. I smile shyly at him with gratitude, and his returning smile is swift and reassuring. Before I can stop myself—I hug him, hard. He’s taken by surprise, and when I release him, he’s pink in both cheeks.
    “Be careful,” I murmur.
    “Yes, Miss Steele,” he mutters.
    Christian frowns at me and then looks questioningly at Taylor, who smiles very slightly and adjusts his tie.
    “Let me know