A/N: Last chapter ended with them being married. In this chapter we flash back to see how it happened. Everything that happens in this chapter is in the past.

chapter six

U.S embassy, Havana, Cuba

Last week

"Good morning, Mr. Grey," Heather Steinberg, the secretary to the ambassador, smiled knowingly. The blonde woman was a bit of a flirt in spite of her middle-aged roundness. "Long time no see."

"Good morning, Heather. Hope I'm not interrupting," Christian smiled charmingly, setting down a cup of coffee and a box of pastries on her desk. He appreciated the woman's sense of humor. Ever since his arrival on the island, he'd visited the embassy nearly every day in order to coordinate a sound plan to get Anastasia out of the country safely.

"A man bearing coffee and cake is always welcome," she smiled back, bringing the coffee to her lips and enjoying its delicious aroma. She motioned for him to sit down and he dropped in the empty chair across from her.

"They're actually donuts."

"Oh, okay." She smiled sheepishly digging into the box. She grabbed a napkin and a chocolate donut. "Please, take one. They can't all be for me," she said sliding the box toward him.

Christian helped himself to a glazed donut. He wasn't much into sweets, but it was all in the name of diplomacy. Heather had just finished her donut and was reaching for her coffee when he spoke again.

"I hope you got some good news for me today."

"I do," she said with a slow flirty smile, "I think you will be VERY pleased." She stood up and waited for Christian's nod of approval. "I'll be right back."

She returned a few minutes later with a big box. Christian leaned forward and rummaged through the contents. Inside were Ana's family photographs and the letters Raymond Steele had written to both Ana and Carla. There were also a few books and an old Windows XP computer.

"Where is the tower?" He asked, and she shrugged in response. "So basically this is just a monitor and a keyboard. It's useless without the tower. It won't even work as a word processor."

"Count your blessings, Mr. Grey," she chirped, producing Ana's U.S passport and sliding it across the desk toward him. "This here is the most important asset of all."

Christian had to agree. His hands automatically reached for the passport, and his fingers traced the gold raised lettering. As a U.S citizen, Ana was entitled to many rights and protections. He could already imagine the smile on Ana's face when he returned everything that had been confiscated by the Cuban authorities last time she'd tried to leave the country.

"Perfect. When does our charter flight leave?"

Heather shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Mr. Grey, charter flights are still subject to restrictions. The bottom line is that Anastasia Steele was born in Cuba and..."

Christian already knew what she was going to say. "And Cuba doesn't recognize dual citizenship," he interjected.

"Exactly. So I don't see a way for her to leave the country...unless," she trailed off as one of her co-workers placed a telegram on her desk.

"What is it?" Christian asked after a few moments, anxious for her to finish her sentence.

"It's an order from Washington to evacuate. The state department has formally issued a health alert."

"What's going on?"

"Our diplomats are complaining of intense fatigue, crushing headaches, and intense sounds... and Washington is ordering the departure of non-emergency personnel," Heather confided.

"When?" Christian asked. He couldn't fucking believe this. He had to think fast. "When are you all leaving?

"We have until the end of the week."

Christian shook his head in disbelief. "Is this some type of reverse quarantine?"

Heather smiled indulgently. "This a very real health concern. We believe we're under a sonic attack by the Cuban government. We're not taking any chances with the health of our diplomats."

"And you have ALL experienced these symptoms? Including yourself?"

"Yes, I have. Maybe not as bad as my colleagues but definitely the constant ringing in my must be some sophisticated technology we don't understand. All we know for sure is that the symptoms consistent with mild brain injury or concussion." Heather mused. "Doctors back in the states who've examined our diplomats confirmed that brain matter in these patients has actually changed."

"And since when has Cuba been capable of such sophisticated technology?" Christian found this piece of information laughable. He wished he had a way to obtain more information through an independent news source. Whatever news he could get at the internet cafes was only one side of the equation, the version approved by the Cuban government.

Heather was stumped. "Hmm...it's not really as far fetched as it seems given Cuba's continued ties to the Russians. Whoever is creating these attacks is against the normalization of relations between Cuba and the United States."

"Next thing you'll be telling me that a rogue Cuban political activist is behind all this."

"At this point, we're not ruling out anything. Our diplomats are leaving but make no mistake, there will be an investigation, and those responsible will be punished."

Christian doubted that political activists like those in Jose's group would have the technological weapons necessary to carry out a sonic attack. Although that did not make Jose's group less dangerous. Once again, it was imperative for him to get Ana away from Jose pronto.

"So you really believe this? You really believe that certain frequency sounds can change brain matter?"

"Absolutely."

"I've been coming here every day and have never experienced any symptoms."

Heather gave his statement some serious thought. "I think that long-term exposure is the key here. You, Mr. Grey, have not been in this building long enough to experience the effects of electromagnetic waves."

"It sounds like I'll need to camp here for a few days then," he joked with a straight face.

"You're certainly are welcome to. This is your home away from home," she smiled pleasantly. "Now, seriously, Mr. Grey, if at any point you or Anastasia are in need of a hiding place, you can come in day or night." She said reaching for a pen and sticky note pad. "Here is the code to our building. Just punch in the numbers on the intercom and mention my name to the guards," she concluded shuffling papers on her desk which he interpreted as a dismissal.

He stood up. "Very well then. I'll be back tomorrow. By then I would hope you'll have our names added to the charter flight your diplomats are taking back to the States."

And with that, Christian grabbed the box and headed out of the building. He walked to the end of the street and hailed a yellow Panataxi.

A quarter of an hour later, he was arriving at Ana's duplex. Gladys welcomed him with open arms. She eyed the box with a big smile. "Thank you, Mijo," she murmured over and over again, pulling Christian into a bear hug. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Four days later

The next few days passed by in a blur. Christian was still waiting to hear from Heather regarding his request.

Every day he followed the same routine. At the crack of dawn, he waited for Ana to leave her house and accompanied her to the convent. From there he went to the nearest bodega and used his tourist coupon book to get milk for the children. Mother Superior was usually quite happy upon his return and offered him a home cooked meal and a fresh cup of coffee.

He liked being able to stay at the convent for a good portion of the day. He had to admit, he liked observing Ana while she went about her daily chores. Although he had the distinct impression, Ana was not all that pleased to catch him watching her. On more than one occasion, he tried helping out to alleviate her workload, but Mother Superior would hear none of it. She would not allow him to lift a finger as he was a guest in their place of residence.

Ever since the day he'd returned the passport and their other possessions, Ana had been nicer toward him, but she was soon back to being snippy with him when she realized he wouldn't allow her to have further contact with Jose.

"I hope you're still not mad at me. Everything I do is for your own good, Ana," he murmured slipping beside her at the table while she was feeding baby her was a messy enterprise. Food usually landed on the floor and on her skin and hair, but the tiny thirteen-month-old was determined to feed herself resisting Ana's guidance.

Ana took a deep breath and let it out in a loud huff. Even though she understood his reasons for forbidding her to hang out with Jose and his gang, she resented the control and oversight. She bit her lip to keep herself from blurting out words she might later regret.

Christian understood her fiercely independent spirit. However, he couldn't stand it when she bit her lip, it stirred in him unrelenting feelings of lust. And the last thing he needed was for such feelings to interfere with his mission.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?'

"Stop biting your lip," he barked in a tone louder than he intended. A group of nuns sharing a meal at the next table sharply turned their heads in their direction. Even the baby was momentarily startled.

She turned the color of strawberry jam. "What business is that of yours what I do with MY lips?"

"None. But I'm only human, and I'm a male so stop it," he murmured low enough for her ears to hear.

"Everyone is looking at us," she whined. Not that she cared all that much about what other people thought of her, but she was testing to see how much he cared.

"Just turn and smile. You will draw less attention," he said smiling at the nuns. They smiled back at him and nodded their heads as though they knew exactly what was going on between Ana and him.

For once Ana followed suit but later on their walk back to her grandmother's house, she blurted out the grudge she'd been nursing all day.

"You're enjoying this a lot, aren't you? This keeping me under your thumb."

He clicked his tongue. "I'm sensing a lot of hostility coming from you."

"I'm not leaving Havana until I say good-bye to the people I care about...the nuns, Mami, Liliana...and Jose."

They were about to round the corner and head for that final stretch of their journey when he stopped dead on his tracks. He grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him, and she met his gaze defiantly.

"You need to cross Jose off that list," he demanded harshly. "He's up to no good. Mark my words, it's not going to end well for him."

"Jose is my best friend."

Hearing her say that made him angry and insanely jealous.

"What if right now I snapped you against my chest? What if I gave you a kiss or two, would you be able to resist me, mamacita?"

Ana stared into his gray eyes dumbstruck, she wasn't expecting such a strong reaction from him. The way he was looking at her right now excited her and terrified her at the same time.

"When are you gonna get it through your head this is not a game?This is not a chapter from one of your cheesy adventure novels...this is real life. There's a lot at stake here, chica. You need to look at the big picture instead of engaging in petty arguments with me. You stay here in Havana, you hook up with the next guy that asks you, and you wind up barefoot and pregnant once a year...or you come with me to America, and it's life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness...so which one are you gonna choose?"

"Let me go."

"Not until we're clear. You don't see Jose again period. It's either my way or the highway. Tell me you understand."

"I understand," she mumbled reluctantly.

Christian had just let go of her when they noticed a couple walking by very slowly, gawking at them. "Buenas tardes."

"Buenas tardes," Christian replied, mimicking the way they tipped their heads in greeting while Ana simply nodded.

They were about to cross the street when, out of the corner of his eye, Christian caught sight of a policeman apprehending a subject and throwing him against his patrol car. Even from afar, Christian recognized the guy. "Hey, isn't that one of Jose's buddies?" Without waiting for a response, he swiftly grabbed her arm and managed to scramble down an alley without running or drawing attention to themselves. From there they headed in the opposite direction. Not far from there was the bike rack where Ana parked her old fashioned bike with a slanted crossbar.

"Where are we going?" She asked while unlocking the bike.

"The embassy," he answered as Ana hopped behind him on the bike and held on to him like a motorcycle rider. "Do you think he'll talk?"

"I don't know him well enough. He's new to the group. Either way, it's bad news for Jose."

"And for you too," Christian pointed out.

They rode three or four blocks before they deviated toward a tourist shop. They were too exposed and needed a disguise of some sort. There, Christian purchased a wide brim boater style hat for himself and a textured ruana (a blanket that you can wear) for Ana. The ruana was far from fashionable; it made her look far more mature than her eighteen years.

"You look like you just stepped out of the 1920s," she smirked. He didn't look bad at all in his short -sleeve button down shirt and black jeans, she thought. "Except you need a suit and tie to complete the look."

Christian wasted no time asking the owner where he could get a suit and tie. The man told them there was a men's retail store two blocks south.

"Perfect, cause that's the direction we're heading," Christian mumbled. "And you my dear, you look like a shepherd girl in the Andean mountains. All you need is a harp and a flock of sheep to complete the look."

Ana couldn't help but smile in amusement.

"Aw. Whaddya know, your first genuine smile since we met. I knew you had it in you."

In response, she bit her lip and blushed. Christian was about to rebuke her for that when the store owner cleared his throat and gave them the total in U.S dollars. Christian paid with a traveler's check, and then they were on their way.

At the men's shop, Ana waited outside the dressing room while he tried on a suit.

"How does it fit?"

"It fits fine. I'll take it."

"Hey, you're not coming out and modeling for me?" She smirked stifling a chuckle. "Don't be shy!"

At once he came out from the dressing room with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He looked so handsome in this dark double-breasted suit. So masculine and so desirable. It nearly took her breath away.

"Who's the lucky girl?" She teased with the tiniest of smiles, and he cocked his head in response. "You look like somebody's groom."

"The embassy is not that far from here." He murmured privately after he paid the salesman. "We can just ditch the bike and walk the rest of the way," he said thinking a man in a suit riding a bike would attract too much attention.

"That's an expensive bike."

"I don't think you're looking at the big picture, mamacita. You're not going to be needing that bike ever again."

An hour later they had made it past the guards and were inside the embassy camping for the night. One of the rooms had two full sized couches and a private bathroom. It seemed like it was used on occasion for overnight guests.

"I'm guessing this is where we'll sleep," Ana said.

"Any preferences on which couch?"

"Not really," she said distractedly. "Mami will worry. How can we get a message out to her?"

Christian shrugged. "We don't. Your abuela knows you're with me. She trusts me to keep you safe."

"And you know this...how?"

"Gladys and I have had many conversations," Christian mumbled as he set down his backpack (the only luggage he'd brought to the country) and made himself comfortable on one of the couches, stretching out his legs. He was positively exhausted. "We talked about the possibility of having to smuggle you out of the country on a cargo ship," he said half-joking, half-serious. "She's prepared."

Ana plopped on the opposite couch. She was so exhausted that she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next morning

Ana woke up to a buzzing sound she couldn't quite place. The room had no natural light, but being an early riser, her eyes opened at 5:30 sharp. She sat up and swung her feet on the floor and stared at Christian as he slept. She wondered at which point he'd taken the suit off and changed into his usual casual attire. The man was infuriating, but she had to admit he had the looks of a movie star.

She tiptoed to the bathroom to freshen up. Unfortunately, she didn't have a change of clothes, so she had to wear the same top and skirt. Well, at least the skirt was long and flowy which made it comfortable to sleep in. She was thankful, however, to find an array of brand new toothbrushes and toothpaste. She washed her face with foam hand soap and looked in the mirror satisfied.

"Buenos dias, muchacha," Christian greeted her when she exited the bathroom. He was lying on the couch with his elbow tucked under his head, looking incredibly relaxed.

"Buenos dias, Senor," she answered with a small smile. "Can you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"A buzzing sound...it's irritating."

Christian shook his head no. "Listen, there's this theory floating around about an attack on the embassy through electromagnetic radiation, a type of psychological warfare. They're calling it a sonic attack. But I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you. We won't be here long enough to be a problem. Washington is calling back all diplomats back home. We're leaving with them." He paused to grab his backpack. "Anyway, the diplomats should be arriving in the building soon." He went on moving toward the bathroom. "Don't worry muchacha, by now the guards should have told them we're here."

"Well, well, well, nice surprise Mr. Grey," Heather greeted them as he and Anastasia approached her desk a few minutes later. And you must be Miss Anastasia," she added studying Ana.

"Nice meeting you," Ana said politely extending out her hand. Heather shook her hand wordlessly.

"We saw someone from Jose's gang get arrested last night," Christian informed her. "I didn't want to take any chances."

"Good call there, cowboy. Mr. Jose Rodriguez and his band of insurgents have been arrested," she stated pointedly looking at Ana. "They're looking for you too for your association with Rodriguez."

Ana gasped, and Heather turned to look at her sharply. "I'm not a political activist. I have never participated in any of their activities."

"Doesn't matter. To them, you're guilty by association. Lucky for you, right now you're under our protection. That means they can't arrest you without proof of criminal activity. However, they can still stop you from leaving the country. The less they know about your whereabouts, the better."

"Heather...what is it that you were about to say the other day? You were telling me you didn't see how Ana could leave the country unless something...and then we were interrupted by the telegram from Washington."

The woman appeared suddenly reluctant to share. Christian immediately turned on the charm, and she acquiesced. Folding her hands across her desk, she took a deep breath before she spoke again. "Ah, yes. Listen, the other alternative I see is if Ms. Steele here were to get married to a U.S citizen. Under Cuban law, the wife automatically takes on the nationality of her husband."

Both Christian and Ana were stunned into silence. Ana avoided Christian's gaze.

"Think about it," Heather suggested, her gaze shifting between Christian and Ana. "But not too long. We don't have too much time. We're closing the embassy tomorrow evening." She paused, looking mostly at Christian with a pang of regret. "I can draw up the papers if you like. All we need is one witness, which could be me," she smiled, "for the marriage to be legal."

The phone rang, and Heather got busy which left Christian and Ana free to fend for themselves. Christian headed for the kitchenette and Ana followed him. The other diplomats ( the ones that were not ill and slumped over their desks) told them there were pre-made ham and cheese sandwiches in the fridge. They were both starved as they'd skipped dinner the night before. Christian helped himself to two sandwiches, and Ana ate three-quarters of a sandwich and then claimed she was full. They talked very little during breakfast, absorbed in their own thoughts.

"Like my grandma used to say, you eat like a bird," Christian observed.

It wasn't until hours later that Ana had a chance to approach Heather and ask her if there was any way she could get a change of clothes.

"Sure. We'll send a car to your house to collect a suitcase for you."

Ana exhaled gratefully. "Thank you." She swiftly turned around only to bump into Christian. This man was like her shadow!

They stared at each other, nose to nose, for a long time. Feelings passed between them, a whirlwind of feelings that were hard to name.

"You don't wear down easily, do you?" He murmured softly, and she smiled proud of the fact that she'd held his gaze without backing down.

"I think we should do it," He cocked his head, looking deeply into her eyes. "We should get married. What do you say?"

"Hmm..." she cleared her throat. This was happening too fast; she wished she had time to think. "I...I don't know."

"It would be a temporary marriage, of course, a marriage of convenience."

Ana wished she could ask Mami and Ray for their advice. "I need to call my dad."

"No!" Christian exclaimed firmly, startling her. "Leave it up to me. I'm the one who's going to inform your father. I will do it my way and in my own timing."

Ana glared at him, resenting being subjected to the whims of this insufferable control freak. She could barely recall the last time she'd experienced such total frustration in the hands of another human being. She was about to open her mouth in protest when she heard Heather calling them back to her desk in an urgent tone.

"We have a visitor this morning. It's officer Sanchez. I believe you're well acquainted with him," Heather said looking at Ana. "Quick, Johnson," she said to another colleague standing by, a stocky African-American man. "Can you take them to the back room and stay with them until the officer leaves?"

They walked past a few people impaired by debilitating headaches, dizziness and a host of other symptoms. They heard a woman getting sick in the bathroom.

"But-I don't see why we have to hide. I thought this was American territory," Ana protested even as she and Christian followed Johnson to the south side of the building. "And I'm not a political activist," she said to Johnson. "This is nothing but a witch hunt."

Christian shushed her. This woman was really something. He wished for once she did as she was told without questioning everything. It would certainly make his life a lot easier, he thought. Dammit! He was starting to sound like a broken record to his own ears.

"I suggest you hide in the attic," Johnson said opening a skinny door that looked like the natural access to the hot water heater tank but it behind it was a set of stairs that led to another door at the top.

Ana was the first one to climb the stairs. "You gotta be kidding me," she mumbled when she reached the top landing and peeked inside the door. The attic barely had any crawl space. It looked claustrophobic. "I don't think so."

Christian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Just get in there," he commanded. He doubted Sanchez would venture past the lobby, but the attic had a small window through which he could watch what was happening down below. He could get a complete picture of each one of the diplomats when they thought no one was watching. If he was going to be spending any time around these people, he had to find out who they were down to the last detail.

At last, Ana crawled in on her hands and knees. The attic was more like a tunnel as there were only about twelve inches from the top of her head to the ceiling. That meant Christian had to crouch down even lower. Once she got close to the window, she stopped moving and rolled onto her back.

Christian sat Indian style and peeked out the small window, their only source of light. And even though he couldn't hear what they were saying, he could tell what was going on by analyzing gestures and body language.

"How are you feeling? Did the buzzing go away?" He asked while still keeping an eye to what was happening down below.

Ana shrugged. "I think so, for the most part. Hey, what if it's a virus instead of a sonic attack?"

"There's a doctor on staff. He's the one who reported symptoms consistent with brain damage, the equivalent of a concussion."

After Sanchez left, Christian turned and lay sideways, leaning on his elbow for support. For a few moments, all he did was quietly watch the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

The temptation was too great, and before he knew what he was doing, he straddled her. Then, he crawled up to reach the vent right above her and get some air flowing.

What are you doing?" She cried squirming beneath him. He hovered above her, calmly gazing into her troubled eyes.

"Shhh," he whispered. He was able to open the vent after the third try. Yet instead of easing off her, he held her arms tightly and hovered over her.

After gazing into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, Ana began to mimic his hypnotic breathing pattern. Eventually, he released her arms and eased off his weight a little bit. By then, she hadn't even realized he had loosened his grip; she had gotten so comfortable and relaxed underneath him.

He had no plan. Seducing her would surely bring more complications. But it seemed like the logical part of his brain wasn't in control of his body. He ducked his head beneath her jaw and fastened his mouth right above the collarbone. He followed the upward sweep of her neck until he reached her ear. A soft moan escaped her and she wrapped her fingers around his biceps, her nails digging through the light material of his shirt. Their eyes met for a couple of beats until she felt the heat between them steal all her bones along with her common sense.

His expression turned serious and inexplicably determined. When at last he lowered his head, she tilted hers so that their lips nearly touched and then suddenly and with an agonized groan, his lips burned against hers, demanding that they part; his tongue urgent yet tentative, a thrilling combination. Instantly, her lips softened, and her tongue darted to meet his and let out a soft whimper. His bare hands reached under her top to touch her bare skin and molded her body to his. Her hips instantly inched forward into the cradle of his, driving him near mad with longing. He wanted to take her right there, pull up her skirt and slide inside of her. Judging from her breathing, he was willing to bet that her urgency and desire matched his.

The magnificence of the moment ended abruptly when she ripped her lips away mumbling, "No...no," just as his thumb brushed the underside of her bra.

He eased off her at once.

"I don't think any of that was in your job description," she stated as a way to put some distance between them. She was trying to process feelings she'd never felt before. Moreover, her panties were soaking wet, and she didn't know what to do about that.

He backed away and sat on his heels as tall as he could in the cramped space, and offered his hand to help her sit up but she refused his help. Her anger resurfaced in full force, and she had to put up a great deal of effort not to strike him for that kiss. Instead, she sat with her legs pulled her knees to her chest as far away from him as possible.

"You're still angry at me."

"Yes, I am." She didn't understand why this Adonis of a man provoked a host of strong reactions in her.

Christian shook his head. What the hell was wrong with this woman? One minute she was smoldering with desire and the next she was pushing him away. He let out a long exhale and reminded himself of his mission. He was going to get Anastasia Steele out of this goddamn country come hell or high water.

"Listen, we need to stay put and lay low. From this point forward, we need to stay together until we leave the country. And if I go out tonight for any reason, you need to stick with me."

"I'm not going with you anywhere." She pouted. Deep down she was scared. It looked like now this was really happening. She was leaving the country for good, leaving behind everyone she loved.

Christian gawked, an amusing smile creeping into his eyes. "And would our damsel in distress care to tell me why?"

"I don't like you, I don't trust you."

Look, I'm just trying to get you off this damned island...the least you could do is be a good little girl and cooperate. If you were desperate enough to throw yourself on a suicide mission in the high seas, I think you're capable of just about anything. Signing a piece of paper should be a piece of cake. So stop trying to make everything harder than it has to be."

"I don't like you," Ana reiterated more to convince her self that the conflicting emotions this man stirred in her meant nothing.

"Listen, I admit, I don't like you most days, but I DON'T hate you. And I'm here to protect you with my life if I have to."

"Oh, my. You do take your job seriously, don't you?" She sighed, her tone more antagonistic that she intended. She was feeling shaky, confused by her own reaction to the kiss and extremely tired. Her life was changing in unpredictable ways, and it scared the living lights out of her.

"A guy doles out a wicked kiss for FREE, and you treat him like this? Now, that's plain rude, Anastasia."

Ana blushed, relieving every single second of the kiss. What the heck was wrong with her? She barely knew the guy, and he already had her tied up in furious knots.

He was completely baffled by her. All the women before her had been quite accommodating and she was the only one to truly challenge him. But there were at a crossroad, so he decided to change tactics. So after they came down from the crawl space, he guided her to sit with him at a table at a small kitchenette and in the calmest way possible, he explained the new plan. After analyzing several courses of action, he'd determined that the safest way for them to leave Cuba together was for them to get married. This would allow them to leave the country along with the departing diplomats without further delay. It would be a temporary marriage, of course, just until they reached the United States.

"This...this marriage idea will never work!"

"And why not?"

"Because I hate you!" Ana said, cringing inwardly. She was raised to believe in the sanctity of marriage but she couldn't bring herself to say this aloud. Maybe because it wouldn't make much of a difference.

Christian pursed his lips. At this point, he'd run out of patience. "The feeling is mutual. Now, shut up. Be a good girl and sign the damn papers so we can get fucking married and so we can get on our married way out of this fucking island." He hated this place now. It was too darn humid. All he wanted was to complete his mission and go back home.

She blinked, trying her hardest to hold back the tears.

LATER

"Okay, I got everything squared away. Our notary will be here in a few minutes. All you have to do is sign. No one has to find out about it...you don't have to tell your grandmother or your friends. Think of it as a business transaction," Heather said to Ana.

Ana let out a long huff and turned to the insufferable man beside her. "So...is that why you brought me here? What would have happened if Jose's friend hadn't been arrested?... Maybe you never had a plan." She challenged him.

Christian stared at her impassively. "Why are you acting so antagonistic? Don't tell me you were expecting a traditional wedding ceremony," He scoffed.

God! This man was so infuriating! She thought, storming off toward the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. While she splashed water on her face, she thought about marrying Christian and the kiss that they shared. Had he known by her reaction that she was a virgin? The woman in the mirror stared back at her, and her mind flashed back to her last conversation with her grandmother.

...

Flashback: yesterday morning 6:00 am

This morning had started like any ordinary morning with Ana making coffee before her grandmother came into the kitchen. While taking her first sip, a random thought struck her with unbelievable force. Could other people tell she was a virgin?

Would Mami be able to recognize the look on her face the minute she had sex? The thought hit her out of nowhere. Did hooking up fundamentally change you inside out? Would she come downstairs the morning after IT happened and Mami instantly know just by looking at her face?

The thought embarrassed her. What if Mami ever asked her about it? Could you pass me the salt and who the hell did you sleep with? Didn't I tell you can get knocked up by a one- hit wonder? Remember your poor mama? She was only fifteen when she had you!"'

How many times had she heard the same variation of the same speech? Back in high school, her abuela would get all worked up with her 'don't get knocked up so you won't have to drop out of school and screw up your life' speeches. While part of her half-listened, the other part of her, the prideful part, made sure she didn't make the same mistake as her mother just so she would NEVER, EVER have to look at her abuela's I- told- you- so- face.

"Ana! Nina! Me escuchas? ( Child, are you listening to me?)

She was momentarily startled as she'd been so absorbed in her own thoughts to notice her come in. "Aw, abuelita," Ana rolled her eyes, not knowing this was to be the last time she would enjoy a cup of coffee with her grandmother. For if she had known, she would have held her hand, memorized every detail of her face and told her just how much she loved her.

A/N:
The sonic attack and the evacuation of the diplomats was an actual event that happened in 2016. It affected more than three dozen diplomats in Cuba and in China.