Fifty Shades Freed (90 page)

“Did you have a coat?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I scowl at simpering Olivia, who immediately leaps up to retrieve a navy coat. Taking it, I glare at her to sit down. Christ, Olivia is annoying—mooning over me all the time.

Hmm. The coat
is
from Walmart. Miss Anastasia Steele should be better dressed. I hold it up for her, and as I pull it over her slim shoulders, I touch the skin at the base of her neck. She stills at the contact and pales.
Yes!
She
is
affected by me. The knowledge is immensely pleasing. Strolling over to the elevator, I press the call button while she stands fidgeting beside me.

Oh, I could so stop your fidgeting, baby.

The doors open and she scurries in then turns to face me.

“Anastasia,” I murmur, saying good-bye.

“Christian,” she whispers. And the elevator doors close, leaving my name hanging in the air, sounding odd, unfamiliar, but sexy as hell.

Well, fuck me.
What was that?

I need to know more about this girl. “Andrea,” I snap as I stalk back into my office. “Get me Welch on the line, now.”

As I sit at my desk and wait for the call, I look at the paintings on the wall of my office, and Miss Steele’s words drift back to me.
“Raising the ordinary to extraordinary.”
She could so easily have been describing herself.

My phone buzzes.

“I have Mr. Welch on the line for you.”

“Put him through.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Welch, I need a background check.”

Saturday, May 14, 2011