"Betting It All On You" - Christian Grey (28) relies on his irreplaceable assistant, Ana Steele (26) for everything. Now she is quitting and he will do anything to keep her. Including accepting her outrageous bet. What can he lose, except maybe his heart? - This story is OCC for all characters. Doesn't have BDSM, but will have LEMONS!
AN: I do not own these characters. All rights go to E.L. James
"Betting It All On You"
Chapter 1
Multi-colored lights winked at Christian Grey, enticing him to come try his luck. He ignored the slot machines as they chimed, beeped and sang of fortunes won and lost. Gambling didn't really appeal to him. He believed in hard work and perseverance, not chance.
An older couple in their seventies halted in front of him, forcing Christian to slow. The wife insisted the buffet that they were looking for was to their left. The husband assured her they'd missed the turn near the black jack tables. Both were wrong.
Before he could circle past them, the woman spied him.
"There's someone who can help us." Her bright-red lips parted in a cheerful smile. "Hello…" She scrutinized his chest, where a name tag might be. "Young man. We love your hotel, but it's very confusing on where everything is located. Can you direct us to the buffet?"
She'd mistaken him for a hotel employee. Not surprising. He was probably the only person in the casino wearing a business suit who didn't work there.
"If you keep heading to the right, you'll see it." He pointed in the direction they needed to go.
"I told you it was this way." The woman shot her husband a smug look, dead wrong but taking credit anyway. "Thank you."
With a nod, Christian resumed walking toward the elevators that would take him to his thirty-third floor suite. Ana better be there. While he'd been on a conference call with their lawyers, going over last minute changes to the contract for the purchase of Lincoln Consolidated, she'd pulled a vanishing act. That had been hours ago.
Since he hadn't heard from her, he'd become concerned. He'd left five messages on her voice mail and sent her seven or eight emails. Not a single response. Assistants didn't come any more efficient or reliable than Ana. Should he be worried that she'd gotten into trouble?
Noisy, crowded, chaotic Las Vegas lured tourists with over the top promises of adventure and spit them out with blurry memories and empty pockets. Had Ana fallen prey? Her small town upbringing couldn't have prepared her for such dangers. Was she somewhere in the maze of slot machines, pouring her paycheck into one? Or perhaps she'd left the hotel and been accosted on the street.
A cheer went up from the black jack table to his right. If his BlackBerry hadn't been set to vibrate, he never would have known he'd received an email. Slowing his pace, he pulled the phone out of his coat pocket. Ana had finally responded. The two word subject line stopped him cold.
My resignation
He stared at the concise note in disbelief. Ana was quitting? Impossible.
His executive assistant had been with him for three years. They were a team. If she were unhappy, he'd know it right?
Christian dialed Ana. After five rings he was directed to her voice mail.
"Call me."
Without waiting to see if she would, he shot her a text message demanding her location. A minute later, he received a response.
Ana: "The bar."
Christian: "Which bar?"
He grinded his teeth during an even longer pause.
Ana: "The Dorsey."
He pulled up a mental image of the casino's layout and turned to his left. A five minute walk brought him to the bar. The Dorsey is a high-design cocktail spot within the Venetian Hotel. Its décor is a rich palette of gold, blue and black infused with an old-school service pedigree. It inspires a "devil-may-care" atmosphere. As Christian strode into the room, he scanned the occupied tables for his assistant. A brunette at the bar derailed his search.
She faced the bartender, gesturing as they conversed. With her back to him, Christian couldn't hear her laugh but suspected it would be husky and intimate, a siren sound that lured men into her sensual web. She sat with her long legs hitched to one side, her modest hemline offering a view of slender calves and delicate ankles.
Even without seeing her face, he was hooked.
Her allure was so potent he'd taken half a dozen steps in her direction before he recalled why he'd come here. A quick survey of the room assured him that Ana didn't occupy any of the small round tables. He would deal with her later.
First, he needed to meet the brunette at the bar.
"No, no. Really. He did that?"
Christian was close enough to recognize the brunette's voice. Shock vibrated through him. "Ana?"
His assistant turned her head and peered up at him through a screen of long, dark lashes. If it had been another woman, he would have described the action as flirtatious. But this was Ana.
"Hello, Christian." Her voice rasped along his nerves like nails dragged over bare skin. She pivoted the stool a quarter turn and gestured at the empty seat beside her. "Mac, get my boss a shot of Patron."
Christian sank onto the stool, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Where were her glasses? Her eyes, bluer and brighter than the sea itself, gazed at him waiting for him to say or do something.
"What's with your email?" he demanded, struggling to pull free of the whirlpool of attraction he'd been sucked into. "You picked a hell of a time to quit."
She nudged the shot glass toward him. "There's never going to be a good time."
He swallowed the tequila without tasting it. The alcohol's burn was a mild discomfort compared to the inferno raging elsewhere in his body.
At some point in the six hours since they'd gotten off the plane, she'd freed her lush, brunette hair from its long thick braid and cut off twelve inches. The shorter style waved and cascaded over her shoulders like silk. Had it always been that vibrant and alive? His fingers itched to comb through the ripples and wrap the long strands around his hands. He could almost feel the sensual caress against his skin.
His gaze traveled downward. She'd traded her usual corporate pantsuits for a figure hugging dress that framed and flaunted the creamy curves of her breasts. Had her skin always been this flawless? Or did it just appear that way in contrast to the black of the dress?
Speaking of skin. Had he ever seen her bare this much?
The Ana he knew was modest and reserved. The woman occupying the stool beside him reveled in her sensuality.
Christian shook his head. "What did you say?"
"I said it's your turn."
His turn. His turn to what?
The valley between her breasts called to him. He imagined plunging forward and burying his face in her cleavage. To arouse her with lips and tongue. To suck one nipple after another into his mouth until she wept for joy.
The intensity of the urge shocked him. He hauled a steadying breath into his lungs. Her seductive scent infiltrated his senses and fogged his brain.
"Christian?"
"What?" He wrenched his gaze from her stunning cleavage and blinked to refocus his thoughts.
"Is something wrong?" Her lips curved in a way both mysterious and feminine. As if she knew exactly what he was thinking. And liked it.
What had happened to the level headed, professional girl he'd come to rely on these last three years? Maybe bringing her to Las Vegas hadn't been such a good idea.
"No. I'm fine." What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't seem to think straight. He peered at the empty shot glass. Had he been drugged? "What were we talking about?"
"My resignation."
Her words slapped him out of the sensual daze. His brain cleared. Heat receded. Or perhaps retreated was a better word.
"What do you want? More money. Or are you after a better title?"
"I want to get married. Have babies."
More shocking revelations. She'd always struck him as a career girl. His entire image of her consisted of the efficiency and dedication she exhibited within the walls of Grey Enterprises Holdings offices. Sure, it made sense that she'd have a personal life that involved friends and lovers, but it had never occurred to him that she did.
"You don't need to quit your job to do that."
"Oh, but I do."
"Are you trying to tell me I'm keeping you from getting married and having kids?"
"Yes." Her long lashes fell over whatever she didn't want him to read in her eyes.
"How?"
Christian signaled the bartender for tequila, shaking his head when the man glanced at Ana's drink. How much alcohol had she consumed? Her clear gaze didn't suggest intoxication. But what else could explain her rash decision to resign?
"You keep me working late most nights," she began. "You call me at all hours to make changes in your travel arrangements or to pull together conference calls. How many times have I worked through the weekend making last minute changes to whatever presentation I'd spent the entire week creating for you?"
Was she trying to say he expected too much? Maybe he'd come to rely on her more and more the longer they worked together, but he liked knowing he could call on her whenever and wherever he needed her help.
"You never take a break," she complained, finishing the last of her pink tinged drink. "And you never give me one."
"I promise not to interfere with your weekends anymore."
"It's not just my weekends. It's making your doctor appointments and getting your car services. It's dealing with the contractors remodeling your house and choosing the tile, color scheme, fixtures. It's your house. You should be making those decisions."
They'd had this discussion before. "I respect your taste."
"I know, but decorating a house is something your wife should do."
"I don't have a wife."
"Not yet." She regarded him in obvious frustration. "Your mother said things are heating up between you and Gia Matteo."
"I wouldn't say heating up."
Although it annoyed him that she and his mother had discussed his personal life, he had no right to complain. He'd been the first to step across the line when he'd made requests of Ana outside her duties as his executive assistant. It was just easier to have her take care of his needs both professionally and personally.
"You've been seeing her for six months," Ana continued. "Your mother said that's the longest you've dated anyone since…"
She trailed off.
Since his divorce three years earlier.
Christian wasn't opposed to remarrying. He might have done so sooner if his ex-wife hadn't trampled his ability to trust. Leila's antics hadn't just dented his domestic side. She'd turned him into a remote bastard with no interest in developing romantic entanglements.
Unfortunately for the women in his life, he'd tended to focus his attention on something he could control…making money. Growing GEH was his priority.
"Okay. I won't ask you to do any more personal stuff." He would eliminate one excuse after another until she ran out of reasons to leave him. "Does that about cover it?"
Her blue eyes became bluer than a sapphire. "Nothing you can say or do is going to change my mind, Christian. I'm quitting. Effective as soon as this week is over."
"You gave me a two-week notice."
"You can have four for all I care. I have at least that much vacation banked." She caught the bartender's eye and pointed to her drink.
"Don't you think you've had enough?"
He clasped her hand and lowered it. Contact with her skin had caused a startling revelation. He wanted her in ways that were primitive and defied rational thought. What was wrong with him? This was Ana. They'd worked side by side for three years with no sizzle, no fireworks. No craving to spend hours lost in sensual exploration.
She was his employee and as such, he was responsible for her. Only he wasn't thinking responsibly. He wasn't thinking at all. He was feeling. Hot. Intense. Sexual.
"You aren't my father," she said, sliding her hand free. "Stop telling me what to do."
He rubbed his thumb over his fingertips but couldn't eradicate the way her softness lingered on his senses. "This isn't like you."
"It isn't like the old me." She chugged half the drink the bartender set in front of her before continuing. "Do you know what today is?"
"September tenth. The GEH Executive Conference starts tomorrow evening." The annual week-long event brought together the executives of the dozen companies Grey Enterprises Holdings owned. It was a chance to talk strategy for the future and facilitate a cohesive, global outlook among what were individually run companies.
"It's my birthday."
Christian winced. He'd forgotten again. Usually a card got passed around the office that he'd sign and there would be crepe paper and balloons decorating her desk to remind him to wish her a happy birthday. But he'd been preoccupied with the conference and the last minute details for his motivational opening speech. What a poor leader he was if he couldn't even remember the birthday of the second most important woman in his life.
"Did I get you something nice?"
She threw her arms wide and gestured down her body. "A day of pampering in the spa and a total makeover."
"I have excellent taste," he said, his smile rueful. "You're the most beautiful woman in the bar." It probably wasn't the best comparison in the world because men occupied most of the chairs. The few women he noted were older and downright frumpy.
Her eyes narrowed. "Gee, thanks. Knowing that I'm hotter than a bunch of grandmothers is a huge boost to my confidence."
Regret pinched him. He could do better than that. She deserved better from him. It was her birthday, after all. But the only way he could think of to show her how gorgeous she was involved taking her upstairs to his suite and peeling off her very sexy dress.
He took another kick to the groin. The residual ache made him frown. He was speeding down a dangerous path. Whatever had awakened a latent fire inside her, turning her into a seductress capable of ripping out a man's heart, was having a detrimental effect on his self-control.
"No, really," he assured her. "You look incredible."
"Incredible, incredible?" she demanded, seeking clarity as she often had to do with him. "Or incredible for twenty-six?"
"Hot incredible."
She pulled a face at him. "You're probably thinking I'm over reacting to the whole turning another year older thing." She paused so she could inject a comment, but Christian held his peace. "It's just that I always figured I'd get married by the time I was twenty-five. Seemed perfect, you know? Sow some wild oats. Make some mistakes."
He couldn't picture Ana doing any of those things. She likes going to movies. Knitted shawls for her church. Rescued cats and fostered them out. If any woman seemed doomed to stay close to home and live a quiet life, it would be Ana.
But that was before she turned up tonight looking like sin, smelling like heaven, and tasting like…?
He leaned forward and brushed his lips across her cheek.
Tasting like perfection.
She put her hand against her skin where he'd kissed her and regarded him warily. "What was that for?"
"Happy birthday."
Her eyes narrowed. "I hope you're still feeling warm and fuzzy when you see what I spent on my birthday present."
He shrugged. "You're worth it."
Ana's lips opened into a perfect O. How had he never noticed how sexy her mouth was before? With a thin, arched upper lip and a plumb, delectable lower one, her cupid bow mouth practically demanded he smear her perfectly applied brick-red lipstick.
Without warning, her fist shot out and hit him hard on his arm. "Damn you, Christian Grey. You can be such an ass."
With that, she slipped off the stool and as soon as her shoes hit the carpet, she was off. Rubbing the spot where she'd struck him, Christian stared after her in surprise. She had a hell of a punch for one so feminine. He launched himself off the stool as she neared the exit and tossed some bills on the bar before he raced after her.
She wasn't used to walking in four-inch heels so he caught up with her easily. Sliding his arm around her waist to offer her support as she stumbled, he murmured, "Where to?"
"I'm off to celebrate." She pushed his hand away from her hip.
Christian's palm tingled as he strode after her. He rubbed his hands together, trying to eliminate the uncomfortable sensation, and watched the way Ana's determined stride gave her curves a little bounce and jiggle.
His ex-wife had been model thin and forever on a diet. She'd lacked the one thing he'd always adored in a woman, generous handfuls of breasts. That might account for why he'd lost interest in sex with her. Or perhaps he'd grown tired of her neediness. Her lies about being pregnant every time he talked about leaving her.
Ana veered to the right as Christian was cataloging all the things that had gone wrong in his marriage. A beat later, he changed direction, stalking her down the row of gaming tables. She moved with purpose, seeming to know exactly where she was heading. He caught up to her at the roulette wheel.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" he demanded, certain he already knew the answer.
"I know exactly what I'm doing." She pulled out a wad of cash. "I came here to blow this and I'm not leaving until I do."