Chapter 92 (1/2)
Elliot opens his mouth to say something but, wisely perhaps, closes it again.
”I'll have a beer,” he says.
”Kate?” Christian asks.
”More champagne, please. The Cristal is delicious. But I'm sure Ethan would prefer a beer.” She smiles sweetly - yes, sweetly - at Christian. She is incandescent with happiness. I feel it radiating off her, and it's a pleasure to bask in her joy.
”Ana?”
”Champagne, please.”
”Bottle of Cristal, three Peronis, and a bottle of iced mineral water, six glasses,” he says in his usual authoritative, no-nonsense manner. It's kinda hot.
”Thank you, sir. Coming right up.” Miss Hot Pants Number Two gives him a gracious smile, but he's spared the fluttering of eyelashes though her cheeks redden a little.
I shake my head in resignation. He's mine, girlfriend.
”What?” he asks me.
”She didn't flutter her eyelashes at you.” I smirk. He blinks at me. ”Oh. Was she supposed to?” he asks, and I can tell he's amused.
”Women usually do.” My tone is ironic.
He grins. ”Mrs. Grey, are you jealous?”
”Not in the slightest.” I pout at him. And I realize in that moment that I am beginning to tolerate women ogling my husband. Almost. Christian clasps my hand and kisses my knuckles.
”You have nothing to be jealous of, Mrs. Grey,” he murmurs close to my ear, his breath tickling me.
”I know.”
”Good.”
The waitress returns, and moments later I'm sipping another glass of champagne.
”Here.” Christian hands me a glass of water. ”Drink this.”
I frown at him and see, rather than hear, his sigh.
”Three glasses of white wine at dinner and two of champagne, after a strawberry daiquiri and two glasses of Frascati at lunchtime. Drink. Now, Ana.”
How does he know about the cocktails this afternoon? I scowl at him. But actually he does have a point. Taking the glass of water, I down it in a most unladylike manner to register my protest at being told what to do . . . again. I wipe my hand across the back of my mouth.
”Good girl,” he says, smirking. ”You've vomited on me once already. I don't wish to experience that again in a hurry.”
”I don't know what you're complaining about. You got to sleep with me.”