Chapter Twenty-six

Outside the gallery, Christian exclaims, "Fuck, our driver will be a while."

"You can't just call them?"

"No point. Charlie Tango won't be ready for a while yet. I asked the driver to meet us here in thirty minutes." He's leading me, as he says, "Come on, I see a restaurant."

He's still the scared little boy. His grip is too strong to break, but I plant my feet enough that he stops, and I beg, "Christian, talk to me."

Suddenly, he's leading me in a different direction, and then pushing me backwards. I feel a rough wall at my back, and he's kissing me as if he's a dying man, and I'm his only chance of survival. I've wanted exactly this all evening, so I match his passion, my hands threading through his hair in a desperate bid for closeness. And then I'm bereft of his touch, and the loudest noise is his accelerated breathing. "Fuck, Ana, what you do to me!"

A trembling mess of needy nerve ends, I emit a sound that might be considered a laugh, and comment, "Interesting conversation."

I'm back in his embrace, and this time his kiss is tender. "I need you safe, Ana."

Utterly confused, and incredibly turned on, I shake my head slightly, and again plead, "Talk to me."

Still, he hesitates before revealing, "Ever since I became rich enough to be famous, I've received death threats. As of today, they've taken a turn."

Oh, God. "They're threatening me?"

"Yes. Just one, but there'll be more."

I can't imagine what that would do to someone with Christian's issues, but am moved to say, "Then I think you're handling it pretty well."

His laugh is harsh, and he says, "Abusing your friend, fleeing the building, and then almost fucking you in an alley?"

That would explain the smell. And then his behavior begins to make sense. "You're worried that the portraits will make me even more of a target?"

"Yes."

"I'll talk to José, okay? I'll make him understand. Besides, I'm kind of pissed that he did all this without telling me."

This close to each other, I literally feel him relax a little, and he says, "Thank you. And I'm sorry."

"Hardly your fault, Christian." And then I understand a little more, so remind him, "The death threats aren't your fault either." When he still says nothing, merely gently caressing up and down my spine, I joke, "Are you going to fuck me now?"

It's enough to make him laugh. And then he kisses me before taking my hand, and saying, "Not just yet. Food first, I think."

Of course, we're too full after dinner for what he'd started in the alley. And it's time to head back anyway. When Charlie Tango is clear of the city, I comment, "It's amazing how quickly Seattle feels like home."

"Soon, Escala will feel like home. Which reminds me, earliest we can do it is Sunday week, okay?"

Trying not to think how much it cost him to book removalists on a Sunday, at short notice, I merely say, "That's fine. Oh, Ethan is back in town on Tuesday, and staying with Kate until he finds a place."

"You mean, staying with you."

So that he'll know I'm not angry, I smile and observe, "Jealous Christian."

He sighs, and says, "You're right. I trust you. And he'd hardly still be your friend if you didn't trust him."

"Thank you, darling." We still have so few moments for conversation, that I decide to reveal, "I'm nervous, about Saturday."

"The benefit?"

"Yes. I've never been to a black-tie event."

"Sorry, baby, I didn't think of that. Uh, well, there's always too much food and drink, during which there's usually some ridiculous game to raise a little cash. Most of the money is raised from an auction of items by donors. Oh, after dinner, any single women are encouraged to auction their first dance. As my fiancée, you're safe from that ordeal, not that I'd let anyone outbid me anyway."

That makes me laugh. "No, I don't believe you would. You like this sort of thing?"

"Profligacy dressed up as largesse? Fuck, no."

"Then, why...oh, Grace?"

"And Carrick, yes. Their charity aims to prevent what happened to me, and probably has, for some children. They mean well. It's just that they've only ever known wealth, and this is how born wealthy people often do things. Usually, I find the whole evening incredibly tedious. But it should be fun this time."

I giggle at the image of us stealing a quickie in one of the many rooms. "I hope so." He's being so understanding that I don't hesitate long to confess, "I don't know table manners. You've seen me; I mostly eat on the sofa with a fork or chopsticks."

"I can discreetly guide you, if you'd like. But I really don't give a fuck about that sort of thing. You can eat with your hands for all I care."

"But...I'm sort of almost part of your family, right? I wouldn't want to embarrass them."

He reaches out, and rests a hand on my belly, as he vows, "You are my family."

It's the first time he's actively included Blip, and I need a moment to gain control over my emotions, and then I think of something that banishes the happy tears. "Will Elena be there?"

"No. As a favor to me, she's made her apologies this year. You'll hear her name during the auction, because she's one of the donors, but you won't have to encounter her."

"And she's okay with this?"

"Yes. She's not a monster, Ana."

I still can't think about her without nausea and fury waging war inside me, so search my mind for a change of subject. "I've been thinking...I wouldn't want to leave Ethan in the lurch, so I'll stay long enough to make sure he's comfortable. But maybe I could move in a week from now, before the removalists are due? Thanks to your generosity, most of what I need is already at Escala."

"You'd do that?"

"If you're certain it won't trigger your anxiety, yes."

He laughs lightly, and says, "I'm sure some days you will, but everything seems easier when we're together."

With all of my immediate concerns addressed, I'm back to needing our physical connection, so I rest a hand on his upper thigh, not quite touching his groin. "Well, one thing is harder."

Even as I say it, I feel him become hard, and he says, "Yes, but behave yourself. Not even I can fuck and pilot a helicopter at the same time."

The heady rush of power at being able to control this part of him makes me desperate for more. And I suddenly understand something else about this man I love. "You really do need my pleasure, don't you? That's why you're always in a hurry for my orgasms, and why even me being anxious or angry is a turn-on for you?"

"I hadn't thought about it like that. But, yes, my world doesn't seem quite right unless you're breathless with pleasure."

"Then maybe give yourself a break? You entering a room can leave me breathless with pleasure. And just knowing you're in it makes my world seem right." He's quiet for so long that I ask, "Darling?"

"Just processing. I think some tiny part of me is afraid that you'll leave, if you find out who I really am. That's why I need your pleasure, and why I was trying to be gentle. Seems I fucked that up too."

Even with everything I've learned about him, his self-hatred is still mystifying. "Well, I thought last night went very well, at least, it did for me. And I really wish you wouldn't talk about yourself like that. It hurts me that you cannot see how wonderful you are."

He's quiet for a few seconds, and then says, "All right. From now on, when that scared little boy speaks up, I'll remind him that you waited your whole life for me."

"Yes, I did. And, when I'm over my fear for Blip, I think we should have another talk, about what you've been holding back. And I think this conversation should take place in the red room." When the silence stretches on, I remind him, "I'm not going anywhere."

His hand is suddenly on my knee. "No, you're not. I really like this harness on you."

As his hand glides up under the hem of my dress, I smile, and ask, "What happened to no fucking while you're flying?"

He sounds incredibly relaxed when he says, "Oh, I think a little kinky foreplay should be safe enough."

Friday morning, I'm still getting ready for work when there's a call from Christian. It's an unusual time, so I answer, "Everything all right, darling?"

He sighs, and says, "It is now. Would you mind if I tell Grace about the baby? I've seen the menu for tomorrow's benefit, and it's basically a list of foods that pregnant women should avoid. If I ask her to change it, she'll know why."

I hadn't even considered that. "You're amazing."

"I am?"

"Yes. And, yes, that'd be fine. I was going to suggest that we tell our parents, now that Blip has settled in. You know they'll keep it quiet for a while, if we ask them. What do you think?"

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing, though Grace will probably cry again. Guess I should get used to it, now that you're part of this family." He sighs once more, and says, "Well, I'd better let you go. Until tonight, Anastasia."

Just hearing my full name from his lips means I'm suddenly desperate for him. "I don't think it's fair to 'Anastasia' me when I won't see you until after work."

He chuckles, and says, "I miss you too."

Andrea reminds me that I wanted to leave early, and looks a little surprised at the warmth in my voice when I thank her. Not that I'm really looking forward to being amongst strangers, but I'm glad to be leaving Grey House in time to join Ana and her colleagues, because it's what she wants. I don't know if it's a symptom of her blindness, but she has a very expressive face. And it's an incredible rush to see that look of delight when I do something that pleases her. A potent aphrodisiac too. I hope there's somewhere in the venue I can prove it; we haven't fucked since last night.

That was different. Another thing that would shock my family and friends; I can enjoy gentle, vanilla sex. I don't even know why I'd wanted it, after such a shitty day. Perhaps it's just the novelty of it. In the past, only a session in the playroom would have eased my anxiety. Welch had advised that I never read the anonymous threat against Ana, but I didn't listen, and now "gut her while you watch" is burned into my brain forever. I can feel my heart fighting against the medication, trying to beat an appropriate amount for my fiancée being in danger. It's pointless to let myself get worked up; the letter is with the police now, and their first impressions are that it's a hollow threat. I force my mind into the distraction technique, silently reciting, 'Don't think of an elephant. Don't think of its tail, don't think of its round feet, and hard toenails_'

Taylor distracts me from the distracting. "Sir, there's no obvious place to park, and Boudreaux is inside?"

"Good enough, thanks. When you catch up, let her know that she's dismissed."

"Sir. They're at the arcade games."

Even in this crowded, noisy place, it's immediately obvious which way to go. I follow the lights and electronic sounds until I see Boudreaux. She notices me, and practically stands to attention. We haven't had time to get to know each other yet.

"Sir." She subtly gestures to a nearby Daytona USA game, and then I see Ana. She's competing, and some guy is practically on top of her, talking while she periodically giggles. Every limb is preparing to do him damage, but the medication is strong enough to hold me in place as I hear, "They've been taking it in turns to challenge her while blindfolded. So far, she's undefeated."

Sounds like Rose is a little in love with Ana too. Still, I'm yet to meet anyone who knows her and doesn't love her. Now that I've had time to assess the situation, I can see the blindfold on her competitor, and someone likewise hovered over them. "That man is giving her instructions?"

"Yes."

I can hear the wariness. Seems that not even the meds can keep the violence from my voice. I take a deep breath, and force my body to relax. "When Taylor gets here, you can go."

"Sir. Need me tomorrow?"

"No. Nor Sunday." Determined to put her at ease, if only for Ana's sake, I ask, "Working out for you, so far?"

That surprises her enough to draw her gaze for a moment, and she says, "Yes, sir. Working very well."

Glancing around, to make sure there are no eavesdroppers, I ask, "And you're up to date?"

"Yes, sir. Though I agree the latest won't amount to anything." So, it's unanimous that I probably won't have to watch someone gut my fiancée. I am not reassured. "She's a quick learner, sir, and always complies with my instructions."

Okay, that's a little reassuring. "Thank you, Rose."

José was the first person to guide me in a racing game like this, and we'd often compete against Kate and Levi, so I'm missing my friends a little as the machine yet again announces my victory, and Gavan says, "Well done, Ana."

I hold up my palm for him to slap, and remind him, "Back at you. Literally couldn't have done it without you." Looking around, I ask, "One more?"

Fi says, "You're on."

She's married to Gavan, so it'll be interesting to have them on opposing teams. I honestly didn't expect to do this well, but it's fun. I grin, and say, "Bring it."

I make sure of my grip on the steering wheel, and try to shut out everything except Gavan's voice. Probably because he's been a navigator in car rallies, he's brilliant at giving me direction. I still laugh at every collision. I don't know why. I get off to a good start. As every lap passes, I'm moving up the ranks, and nothing exists except the next turn. On the final lap, it feels like my competitor's car nudges mine, and Gavan says, "Got a live one here, Ana. Punch it." My memory tells me that the next turn is only a few seconds away, but we've built trust, so I slam the accelerator pedal down, going faster than I've dared before. "Left-one in three, two, one, now." I wrench the steering wheel almost all the way left, giggling as I feel several collisions, though none of them serious enough to slow me down much. "Straightaway. He's in front of you now, Ana, but you've got this. Left-two in seven seconds."

He? I thought that Fi was my opponent? And then I finally notice that it's her voice I can hear, softly guiding my opponent. As I have that thought, I wipe out. I still haven't recovered when the machine announces, "New winner!"

I turn to Christian, and accuse, "That's cheating."

He laughs, and says, "The checkered flag doesn't lie, baby."

I reach for him, and he helps me stand, as I say, "You knew that I'd crash when I guessed who was racing me."

I'm in his arms, and he laughs. "Yes. I couldn't resist. You know I don't like to lose." He quickly kisses me, and then is gone from my side, though takes hold of my right hand, as he says, "Thanks, Fiona. That was perfect."

I trust that Fi will understand I'm talking to her, when I cheerfully accuse, "Traitor."

She laughs, and says, "Looked like he won fair and square from where I was standing. And we'd better get going. The sitter will want to go home. It was good to meet you, Christian. Ana was right about you."

Oh, dear; I'll face questions for that one. For now, Christian merely says, "A pleasure to meet all of you. This was fun, thank you."

Clasping his hand a little tighter—in gratitude and reassurance—I say, "Thanks, Fi, for inviting us. I've had such a good time." Unsure where he's currently standing, I don't look around to add, "And, good to meet you, Gavan. Thanks for being such a great navigator."

"My pleasure, Ana." Apparently, he's standing to my left. I feel a touch on my arm, just before a kiss on my cheek, and he suggests, "Rematch next Friday?"

Crap, I haven't yet had a chance to tell Christian. "Uh, actually, I'm catching up with an old friend next Friday. Perhaps the one after that."

Christian says a polite goodbye to both of them. As if Fi and Gavan are in charge, their leaving seems the catalyst for a few others to also depart. I'm still learning their voices, so it's a confusing ordeal to have so many people addressing me in quick succession. Eventually, Christian cheerfully asks, "Was it something I said?"

"Oh, they're all gone?"

"So it would seem."

"Fi did say they usually wrap up once happy hour is finished. I didn't know she was being literal. I guess they're all on about the same wage as I am." Or they've worked out that Christian now owns UPP. I hope not.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not really. I had a snack, but I wanted to dine with you."

He's leading me, as he says, "Good. I reserved a booth."

Only when we're seated, and have ordered dinner, does Christian ask, "You were right about me?"

I smile, that he couldn't let it go, and explain, "Everyone is curious about you, so I told Fi that you can be great fun. And then you proved it. Thank you for coming, Christian. Even if Grey House released you, I wasn't sure your shades would."

"You're welcome, baby. I enjoyed it. Your colleagues seem nice."

"They are. Though apparently there's a rumor that the company has been sold, so some of them are a bit on edge. You're not going to fire any of them, are you?"

"I'm pretty sure that would count as interfering in your career. Some of you will get a pay rise, but that's only because every company I own pays above minimum wage."

I laugh, and say, "Well, that should alleviate people's concerns a little. Thank you. And, before you ask, José is the old friend. He's stopping by to drop off your photos, and catch up, hopefully with Kate and Elliot too, if they get back in time. Did you really buy all those portraits of me?"

"You think I'd let someone else own them?"

I can't help a small laugh at that, and say, "No, I guess not."

"You talked to him today?"

"Yes, as promised. He was appalled at even indirectly putting me in danger, so had the portraits removed from the exhibition. Apparently, his publicist was pretty upset. A lot of people liked them." I smile, and add, "Though probably not enough to buy him out. What will you do with them?"

"I haven't yet decided. Perhaps my office at Grey House. I miss you when I'm there." We're sitting opposite each other in a dining booth, and he seems suddenly too far away, so I use the edge of the table as a guide, and sit beside him. He scooches over, to accommodate me, and asks, "Baby?"

Taking one of his arms, and putting it around my shoulders, I say, "That's better."

I feel him relax, and he pulls me close, saying, "Yes, it is."

I don't want to spoil this moment, but he needs to know. "There is one thing; José wants to stay the night. So, I was thinking_"

"He can stay at Escala. You'll be living with me by then."

That's exactly what I was hoping for. I breathe a sigh of relief, and say, "Thank you, darling."

"You thought I'd forbid him or something?" He sounds genuinely wounded.

"No. Maybe. It's so far not gone very well when you and José meet."

He laughs, and says, "I guess not. Though I haven't punched him the last couple of times, so we're heading in the right direction. I might have struggled with him and the Kavanagh male sharing an apartment with you, but I can live with Rodriguez having the spare room for one night. It's always ready, but I'll have Mrs. Jones change the bed linen for something less feminine."

I don't know why it never occurred to me until this moment. "Oh, they slept there."

He clearly knows that I'm talking about his women, because he sounds scared. "Yes. Problem?"

Shaking my head, I say, "No. Just...no."

"There's no one within earshot, baby. Talk to me."

Only then do I notice that the constant sounds of conversation around us are a little distant. "Did you reserve the nearest tables and booths?"

"Yes, and paid enough to ensure they stay vacant while we dine. You know I don't like crowds."

Which makes it all the more amazing that he bothered to turn up tonight, just to please me. "I owe you a reward, for this evening."

As if he's somehow been waiting for me to suggest it, he says, "Move in."

"I've just agreed to...oh, you mean tonight, don't you?"

"Yes."

"But...I'd feel like I'm letting Ethan down, leaving him alone on his first night back."

"Then come up with a reward of equal or greater value."

I laugh, at how smug he sounds, and concede, "All right, Hurricane Christian, I'll need to grab a few things from the apartment on the way, but we'll move in."

He kisses me, lingering and tender, even as one hand rests over Little Blip, and then says, "Finally."