Chapter Ten

Christian is sitting on the edge of the bed, again lacing up his new boots, when Ana asks, "You're actually going to wear hiking boots, with a tux?"

Looking up to defend them—they really are very comfortable—the words are torn from his mind unuttered, and all he can do is gape at his wife. She's wearing a full-length, long-sleeved evening gown; vertical panels of black crepe silk that fit her form as if painted on, alternating with sheer lace panels that offer a glimpse of the delectable flesh beneath.

Ana smiles shyly at his reaction and asks, "You like it?"

Now that his brain has caught up with his dick, he can see that, though Ana's ankles and shins are clearly visible through the lace, her nipples are not, nor is her hip-to-hip cesarean scar, so she must be wearing a slip or underlay that matches her skin tone exactly. Still, the overall effect is stunning; the illusion of part nudity miraculously cloaked in old-fashioned modesty. Spreading his arms wide in surrender, he shakes his head and says, "I have to give a thankyou speech tonight. If you're wearing that, I won't be able to remember any of it."

Ana beams at the compliment and twirls, saying, "I can always face away, so you won't be distracted."

The center slit up the back reaches to just above her knees and she's wearing her satin-trimmed Gianvito Rossi black patent leather pumps with the four inch heel that show off her toned calf muscles so well. And she's styled her hair for him tonight; partly up to show off her neck, but still with that wild look, as if it all might cascade down her shoulders at any moment. He exaggerates—but only a little—a pained groan, and utters, "I'm fucked."

Laughing, Ana spins back to him, faltering enough that he reaches out a hand to steady her, and she says, "If you play your cards right; maybe."

Spreading his knees and drawing her closer, he rests his hands on her hips and gazes up at her as he asks, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

She caresses the hair at his temples in the way that eases all his concerns and says, "You've helped me to believe it, but I only really feel it when I'm with you." Suddenly resting her hands on his shoulders, she instructs, "Oh, have a closer look at the choker; it's custom-made."

He's normally good with the details, but the fabric choker necklace had gone unnoticed until now, because of his visceral reaction to her dress. It's embroidered black silk and, resting at the base of Ana's throat, is an ornate coat-of-arms in various gems and precious metals. Closer inspection reveals it to be the Grey family crest. Only then does he see the tiny lettering and reads aloud, "Anchor, fast anchor." Guessing that it's deliberate on her part, he lets his mind revel in the fact that this particular piece of jewelry announces her allegiance to him. Meeting her gaze with pure love in his heart, he says, "That's the family motto."

Ana's eyes return his love and she says, "Yes. I think of it as 'hold fast'." Suddenly looking nervous, she traps her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment and her voice is just above a whisper when she reveals, "You'll need a little more courage tonight, my darling."

He can't stop himself from glancing at the tell-tale cufflinks on his wrists when he asks, "What the fuck have you done?"

"Just as you instructed; gathered all the people who truly care about you."

He should have guessed. It's not the first time she's used his words to do exactly what she wanted in the first place. Ana had wanted a big celebration, but he's still not overly fond of crowds, though they no longer make him anxious. "We're not going to the club, are we?"

"No, darling; it doesn't have nearly enough seating. We'll be at the hall where you abuse philanthropists every year."

He smiles at the description and then notices that she's still afraid, so asks, "For whom do I need courage?"

Ana grins and says, "Have you ever noticed that your Harvard education becomes apparent when you're nervous?"

Decades of therapy and practice are behind his calm reply. "And my temper. Tell me what's going on or you're going alone, Mrs. Grey."

After so long together, she must know that his deceptively serene tone means he's struggling to remain in control. Immediately contrite, Ana lowers her gaze and says, "They call themselves the sub club."

He's not heard that term, but he can guess what it means. His legs actually twitch with the need to flee when he coolly asks, "Who does?"

Grimacing at his tone, Ana reveals, "The ones who loved you…love you. I know you feel like you cheated them somehow, by not being able to return their love, but that's not how they feel. I thought that…I know you're strong enough to face them and hear the truth."

He's too shocked to really understand, but manages, "You've gathered all my former subs in one place?"

"Not all—Angie's been helping me—just the women who wanted more from you." When he's still silent several seconds later, she begs, "Please say something."

"Not Elena?"

"Yes; her, too."

"How the fuck did you manage to persuade Mom?" Not even a couple of decades have been enough to dilute Grace's sense of betrayal at her best friend seducing an adolescent Christian into the world of BDSM.

"By reminding her that tonight is about you, not anyone else, and that Elena has always loved you, in her own way."

"What did Mom say to that?"

"That, uh, you're lucky to have me."

Sensing that Ana is, as usual, being too modest, he commands, "Tell me exactly what my mother said."

With a resigned sigh, Ana reveals, "She smiled and said, 'I love Christian. I loved him the moment I saw him; filthy, fearful and seemingly irretrievably damaged. But I am constantly humbled by how much you love him.'" With a shrug, Ana concludes, "And then she gave her permission, on the understanding that she doesn't have to sit next to Elena."

Christian grins and says, "You love me."

Ana rolls her eyes and says, "Yes; that's kind of the point of enduring all this."

"Because you think I'm still ashamed of my sexual history, and would be better off without that burden?"

"Yes."

He considers the matter and eventually asks, "Any other surprises?"

"Yes, but none that I'm worried about. If you can be okay with this, you'll have a wonderful time, Christian."

"You'd cancel their invitations, if I object?"

"Of course. It's your birthday. Even if it weren't, I would never ask more of you than you can tolerate."

"Except that you consistently overestimate my courage." Even as he speaks, he realizes that it's a lie; if Ana can endure being in the same room as his former lovers, then he can, too.

Ana smiles as if she's read his mind and says, "No, I don't."

Most of the family are waiting in the living room—Ana making final adjustments to Teddy's bow tie and Billy nervously glancing at the time—when Christian chuckles and says, "I just realized; if I had a dollar for every minute I've spent waiting for my daughter, I'd be rich twice over."

Billy smiles and says, "Yeah; I've taken to showering very early, because she spends forever in the bathroom."

Phoebe studying full-time and Billy living off his share of the dividends from a fledgling company means that the young couple's accommodation is a tiny apartment near Harvard, because they won't accept a cent more than the allowance he gave Teddy. Catching Ana's warning glance—not that it's necessary; he has no intention of resuming the simmering hostilities that had endured for months after Phoebe and Billy got engaged—Christian merely says, "My offer still stands. I'd pay for a house, at least until you're both on your feet."

Billy's smile vanishes and his spine straightens in passive defiance as he says, "Thank you, sir, but it's not necessary. My wife is happy, and that's enough for me."

It's the most polite criticism Christian's ever received, and it's justified; of course Phoebe's happiness is more important than a second bathroom. He rewards the display of courage with a deferent nod, then says, "It's my birthday; the least you can do is finally use my name."

Slumping in relief that his boldness hasn't resulted in renewed tension, Billy says, "Thank you, Christian."

A slight noise at the top of the stairs means they're all looking in that direction when Ana kisses Christian's cheek and whispers, "Thank you, darling."

He nods his acceptance of her gratitude, but can say nothing. For the second time this evening he's struck dumb; this time by the sight of Phoebe in a beaded and embroidered, knee-length platinum cocktail dress. Lucky it's not up to him, because only Billy has the presence of mind to hurry forward and greet her; whispering something to his wife that puts a shy smile on her face, before escorting her the last few steps to her family. Not even when Phoebe was on his arm in a wedding gown did Christian feel this overwhelming mixture of pride and loss; perhaps because he'd been in denial that day. But they've both matured since then. She's nervously avoiding his gaze. Finally, a nudge from Ana makes him clear his throat and utter, "You broke your promise; you're all grown up. And you're stunning."

Author's note: A reminder that the hall mentioned is where Christian and his friend Brit annually host a charity dinner that benefits at-risk children. Also, please remember that my version of Elena Lincoln did (as in the books) seduce a teenage Christian, and pursued him with the intention of stealing him from Ana, but she bowed out gracefully many years ago; more sociopath than psychopath. In this story she's in her eighties and still married to her second husband, Lawrence "Larry" Harwood; introduced in the epilogue of "Fusion". The OC Angie we also met in "Fusion"; a former submissive who was forced to help with an unsuccessful blackmail scheme against Christian.

Want me to preface the next chapter with a refresher about any original characters mentioned?

For those who care, Ana's dress is by Stella McCartney. The best pics are on NET-A-PORTER, with the description "Florence lace-paneled stretch-crepe dress". Phoebe's is by Sue Wong; platinum "silver beaded embroidered cocktail dress". Best pics are on Lyst.

Any questions, comments or concerns, you know where I am;-) Thank you, for reading.