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Grey

Page 60

   


“I’ve been driving it for over three years. I’m sorry you were worried. Why didn’t you call?”
I called her cell phone. Does she not use her damned cell phone? Is she talking about the house phone? Running my hand through my hair in exasperation, I take a deep breath. This is not addressing the fucking elephant in the room.
“Anastasia, I need an answer from you. This waiting around is driving me crazy.”
Her face falls.
Shit.
“Christian, I…look, I’ve left my stepdad on his own.”
“Tomorrow. I want an answer by tomorrow.”
“Okay. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you then,” she says with an anxious look.
Well, it’s still not a “no.” And once more, I’m surprised by my relief.
What the hell is it about this woman? She stares up at me with sincere blue eyes, her face etched in concern, and I resist the urge to touch her. “Are you staying for drinks?” I ask.
“I don’t know what Ray wants to do.” She looks uncertain.
“Your stepfather? I’d like to meet him.”
Her uncertainty magnifies. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she says darkly, as I unlock the door.
What? Why? Is this because she now knows I was dirt-poor as a kid? Or because she knows how I like to fuck? That I’m a freak?
“Are you ashamed of me?”
“No!” she exclaims, and she rolls her eyes in frustration. “Introduce you to my dad as what?” She raises her hands in exasperation. “?‘This is the man who deflowered me and wants us to start a BDSM relationship’? You’re not wearing running shoes.”
Running shoes?
Her dad is going to come after me? And just like that she has injected a little humor between us. My mouth twitches in response and she returns my smile, her face lighting up like a summer dawn.
“Just so you know, I can run quite fast,” I respond playfully. “Just tell him I’m your friend, Anastasia.” I open the door and follow her out but stop when I reach the chancellor and his colleagues. As one they turn and stare at Miss Steele, but she’s disappearing into the auditorium. They turn back to me.
Miss Steele and I are none of your business, people.
I give the chancellor a brief, polite nod and he asks if I’ll come and meet more of his colleagues and enjoy some canapés.
“Sure,” I reply.
It takes me thirty minutes to escape from the faculty gathering, and as I make my way out of the crowded reception Kavanagh falls into step beside me. We head to the lawn where the graduates and their families are enjoying a post-graduation drink in a large tented pavilion.
“So have you asked Ana to dinner on Sunday?” she asks.
Sunday? Has Ana mentioned that we’re seeing each other on Sunday?
“At your parents’ house,” Kavanagh explains.
My parents?
I spot Ana.
What the fuck?
A tall blond guy who looks as if he’s walked off a beach in California has his hands all over her.
Who the hell is that? Is this why she didn’t want me to come for a drink?
Ana looks up, catches my expression, and pales as her roommate stands beside that guy. “Hello, Ray,” Kavanagh says, and she kisses a middle-aged man in an ill-fitting suit standing beside Ana.
This must be Raymond Steele.
“Have you met Ana’s boyfriend?” Kavanagh asks him. “Christian Grey.”
Boyfriend!
“Mr. Steele, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Mr. Grey,” he says, quietly surprised. We shake hands; his grip is firm, and his fingers and palm are rough to the touch. This man works with his hands. Then I remember—he’s a carpenter. His dark brown eyes give nothing away.
“And this is my brother, Ethan Kavanagh,” says Kate, introducing the beach bum who has his arm wrapped around Ana.
Ah. The Kavanagh offspring, together.
I mutter his name as we shake hands, noting that they are soft, unlike Ray Steele’s.
Now stop pawing my girl, you fucker.
“Ana, baby,” I whisper, holding out my hand, and like the good woman she is, she steps into my embrace. She’s discarded her graduation robe and wears a pale gray halter-neck dress, exposing her flawless shoulders and back.
Two dresses in two days. She’s spoiling me.
“Ethan, Mom and Dad wanted a word.” Kavanagh hauls her brother away, leaving me with Ana and her father.
“So how long have you kids known each other?” Mr. Steele asks.
As I reach across to grasp Ana’s shoulder I gently trace my thumb across her naked back and she trembles in response. I tell him we’ve known each other for a couple of weeks. “We met when Anastasia came to interview me for the student newspaper.”
“Didn’t know you worked on the student newspaper, Ana,” Mr. Steele says.
“Kate was ill,” she says.
Ray Steele eyes his daughter and frowns. “Fine speech you gave, Mr. Grey,” he says.
“Thank you, sir. I understand that you’re a keen fisherman.”
“Indeed I am. Annie tell you that?”
“She did.”
“You fish?” There’s a spark of curiosity in his brown eyes.
“Not as much as I’d like to. My dad used to take my brother and me when we were kids. For him it was all about the steelheads. Guess I caught the bug from him.” Ana listens for a moment, then excuses herself and moves off through the crowd to join the Kavanagh clan.
Damn, she looks sensational in that dress.
“Oh? Where d’you fish?” Ray Steele’s question pulls me back into the conversation. I know it’s a test.
“All over the Pacific Northwest.”
“You grew up in Washington?”
“Yes, sir. My dad started us on the Wynoochee River.”
A smile tugs at Steele’s mouth. “Know it well.”
“But his favorite is the Skagit. The U.S. side. He’d get us out of bed at some ungodly hour of the morning and we’d drive up there. He’s caught some mighty fine fish in that river.”
“That’s some sweet water. Caught me some rod breakers in the Skagit. On the Canadian side, mind.”
“It’s one of the best stretches for wild steelheads. Give you a much better chase than those that are clipped,” I say, my eyes on Ana.