Fifty Shades Darker(25)

I stare frigidly at him. His eyes are so intense, threatening even, but sexy as hell. I could get lost in their steely depths.

"So you're my boss now," I snap.

"Technically, I'm your boss's boss's boss."

"And, technically, it's gross moral turpitude - the fact that I am f*cking my boss's boss's boss."

"At the moment, you're arguing with him." Christian scowls.

"That's because he's such an arse," I hiss.

Christian steps back in stunned surprise. Oh shit. Have I gone too far?

"An arse?" he murmurs as his expression changes to one of amusement.

Goddamn it! I am mad at you, do not make me laugh!

"Yes." I struggle to maintain my look of moral outrage.

"An arse?" Christian says again. This time his lips twitch with a repressed smile.

"Don't make me laugh when I am mad at you!" I shout.

And he smiles, a dazzling, full-toothed, all-American-boy smile, and I can't help it. I am grinning and laughing, too. How could I not be affected by the joy I see in his smile?

"Just because I have a stupid damn grin on my face doesn't mean I'm not mad as hell at you," I mutter breathlessly, trying to suppress my high-school-cheerleader giggling.

Though I was never cheerleader - the bitter thought crosses my mind.

He leans in, and I think he's going to kiss me but he doesn't. He nuzzles my hair and inhales deeply.

"As ever, Miss Steele, you are unexpected." He leans back and gazes at me, his eyes dancing with humor. "So are you going to invite me in, or am I to be sent packing for exercising my democratic right as an American citizen, entrepreneur, and consumer to purchase whatever I damn well please?"

"Have you spoken to Dr. Flynn about this?"

He laughs. "Are you going to let me in or not, Anastasia?"

I try for a grudging look - biting my lip helps - but I'm smiling as I open the door.

Christian turns and waves to Taylor, and the Audi pulls away.

It's odd having Christian Grey in the apartment. The place feels too small for him.

I am still mad at him - his stalking knows no bounds, and it dawns on me that this is how he knew about the e-mail being monitored at SIP. He probably knows more about SIP

than I do. The thought is unsavory.

What can I do? Why does he have this need to keep me safe? I am a grown-up -  sort of - for heaven's sake. What can I do to reassure him?

I gaze at his beautiful face as he paces the room like a caged predator, and my anger subsides. Seeing him here in my space when I thought we were over is heartwarming.

More than heartwarming, I love him, and my heart swells with a nervous, heady elation.

He glances around, assessing his surroundings.

"Nice place," he says.

"Kate's parents bought it for her."

He nods distractedly, and his bold gray eyes come to rest on mine, staring at me.

"Er... would you like a drink?" I mutter, flushing with nerves.

"No, thank you, Anastasia." His eyes darken.

Oh crap. Why am I so nervous?

"What would you like to do, Anastasia?" he asks softly as he walks toward me, all feral and hot. "I know what I want to do," he adds in a low voice.

I back up until I bump against the concrete kitchen island.

"I'm still mad at you."

"I know." He smiles a lopsided apologetic smile and I melt... Well, maybe not so mad.

"Would you like something to eat?" I ask.