Book 1 - Page 92 (2/2)
”Chicken caesar salad okay with you?”
Oh thank heavens, nothing too heavy.
”Yes, fine, thank you.”
I watch as he moves gracefully through his kitchen. He's so at ease with his body on one level, but then he doesn't like to be touched... so maybe deep down he isn't. No man is an island, I muse - except perhaps Christian Grey.
”What are you thinking?” he asks, pulling me from my reverie. I flush.
”I was just watching the way you move.”
He raises an eyebrow, amused.
”And?” he says dryly.
I flush some more.
”You're very graceful.”
”Why thank you, Miss Steele,” he murmurs. He sits down beside me, holding a bottle of wine. ”Chablis?”
”Please.”
”Help yourself to salad,” he says, his voice soft.
”Tell me - what method did you opt for?”
I am momentarily thrown by his question, when I realize he's talking about Dr. Greene's visit.”Mini pill.”
He frowns.
”And will you remember to take it regularly, at the right time, every day?”
Jeez... of course I will. How does he knowI blush at the thought, probably from one or more of the fifteen.
”I'm sure you'll remind me,” I murmur dryly.
He glances at me with amused condescension.
”I'll put an alarm on my calendar.” He smirks. ”Eat.”
The chicken caesar is delicious. To my surprise, I'm famished, and for the first time since I've been with him, I finish my meal before he does. The wine is crisp, clean, and fruity.
”Eager as ever, Miss Steele?” he smiles down at my empty plate.
I look at him from beneath my lashes.
”Yes,” I whisper.
His breath hitches. And as he stares down at me, I feel the atmosphere between us slowly s.h.i.+ft, evolve... charge. His look goes from dark to smoldering, taking me with him.
He stands, closing the distance between us, and tugs me off my bar stool into his arms.
<script>