Chapter 82 (1/2)

”If you'll excuse me,” he says to our four guests. ”I need to have a word with my wife in private.”

”Christian!” I shout. ”Put me down!”

”All in good time, baby.”

I have a brief view of Mia, Kate, and Elliot laughing. Damn it! This is not funny - it's embarrassing. Ethan gawks at us, mouth open and utterly shocked, as we disappear into the cabin.

Christian closes the cabin door behind him and releases me, letting me slide down his body - slowly, so that I feel every hard sinew and muscle. He gives me his boyish grin, thoroughly pleased with himself.

”That was quite a show, Mr. Grey,” I murmur, crossing my arms and regarding him with faux indignation.

”That was fun, Mrs. Grey.” And his grin widens . . . oh boy. He looks so young.

”Are you going to follow through?” I arch a brow, unsure how I feel about this. I mean, the others will hear us, for heaven's sake. Suddenly, I feel shy. Glancing anxiously at the bed, I feel a blush steal across my cheeks as I recall our wedding night. We talked so much yesterday, did so much yesterday . . . I feel as if we leaped some unknown hurdle -

but that's the problem. It's unknown. My eyes find Christian's intense but amused gaze, and I'm unable to keep a straight face - his grin is too infectious.

”I think it might be rude to keep our guests waiting,” he says silkily as he steps toward me. When did he start to care what people think? I step back against the cabin wall and he imprisons me, the heat from his body holding me in place. He leans down and runs his nose along mine.

”Good surprise?” he whispers, and there's a hint of anxiety in his voice.

”Oh, Christian, fantastic surprise.” I run my hands up his chest, curl them around his neck and kiss him.

”When did you organize this?” I ask when I pull away from him, stroking his hair.

”Last night, when I couldn't sleep. I e-mailed Elliot and Mia, and here they are.”

”It's very thoughtful - thank you. I'm sure we'll have a great time.”

”I hope so. I thought it would be easier to avoid the press in Aspen than at home.”

The paparazzi! He's right. If we'd stayed in Escala, we'd have been imprisoned. A shiver runs down my spine as I recollect the snapping cameras and dazzling flashguns of the few photographers Taylor sped through this morning.

”Come. We'd better take our seats - Stephan will be taking off shortly.” He offers me his hand and together we walk back into the cabin.

Elliot cheers as we enter. ”That sure was speedy in-flight service!”

he calls mockingly.

Christian ignores him.