CHAPTER THREE

Grey's gaze is fixed on me, and I feel like a rabbit in a snare. Caught, utterly defenseless.

"Miss Steele."

"I was just…" I clear my throat. "Taking a look around."

Leaning against the doorframe, his gaze flicks over me. "This isn't a place you want to get lost."

I look over his shoulder to where Stefan disappeared. "I had a very nice tour guide, until you scared him away."

He straightens. "Nathan said you arrived by bus. I have a car waiting outside to take you home."

"Actually, I'm not quite ready to go home, so if you'll excuse me…" I move to brush past him, but he doesn't budge.

"You're not staying."

I arch a brow, defiant. "I'm not leaving."

I can't leave. Not now, when the mystery of Grey is just beginning to unravel. I'd be lying if I said my curiosity hasn't been piqued.

Grey is glaring at me. No is apparently not a word he's acquainted with. I can practically seethe wheels turning in his head. Will he allow me to stay? Will he get one of his security guards to throw me out?

I wait for his decision, when a woman's voice interrupts us. It might be Rebecca, but she's standing out in the hallway and Grey is blocking my view. "Excuse me, Mr. Grey. Your six o'clock is here."

He doesn't look at her, his gaze is still fixed on me. "Cancel it."

"But he's already waiting-"

Grey turns abruptly, cutting her off. "Cancel it," he says again. "Something important has come up."

Her voice takes on a slightly panicked tone. "He's very insistent, and he's threatened to…"

"You should go," I supply.

Why is he so insistent I leave? What's he trying to hide?

He turns back to me. "Wait here. Don't move."

I smile sweetly. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The second he's out of sight, I make my way out to the lobby area. The space is filling out now, people spilling in from the main set of doors that I'd snuck through earlier. They were all headed in one direction, down a long corridor, then up another short set of stairs.

I follow and find myself in the middle of a dance club. It's dark, but colored lights pulse in time with the music. And though the space is still being filled, bodies are pressed together, moving in rhythm with the beat.

I head straight for the bar and order my favorite drink, a moscow mule. I left my purse upstairs, but I give the bartender my name and he starts a tab.

"You're new here," a voice says. I take a sip from my drink and turn. The man beside me is muscular, dark-haired and handsome in a sweet, boyish kind of way.

I smile. "I'm actually just visiting."

He signals to the bartender, who pours the man a whiskey and slid it to him. He takes a sip. "Not staying long," he repeats. "That sounds like a challenge to me."

I take another sip. I hardly ever drink, so I'm already feeling a little lightheaded.

"It's not a challenge," I laugh. "I have work tomorrow." And I'm responsible to a fault. In highschool, I never ditched, never snuck out at night. I've always done the right thing, been exactly where I was supposed to be.

Until tonight.

He takes in my business clothes and smiles. "You look very buttoned up for a dance club."

I take another sip of my drink. It's almost completely gone, so I drain it and place the hammered copper mug back on the bar. The bartender slides me another one without my even asking. What service, I muse, taking another sip through the tiny stir straw.

I stare down at my white button up blouse, and flick open the first button. Then the second and third until the tops of my white lacy bra are showing.

"Much better," he growls. "My name is Ros."

"Ana," I reply, taking another fortifying sip.

The side of his mouth quirks in the most adorable way. "I have a feeling you're an untouchable."

"An untouchable," I laugh. "What's that?"

I follow his gaze across the bar to where Grey is standing, staring at us. "He's been staring at you, and I get the uneasy feeling he's already staked his claim."

Another long sip of my drink and shake my head. "Um, no. no. You're reading this situation-" I make a wide, circular motions with my hands, "completely wrong. He actually hates me. In fact, he has a car waiting outside, ready to take me home."

He laughs a little. "Then why are you still here?"

"Because I declined to leave."

He raises a dark brow. "You told Christian Grey no?" He shakes his head. "You really are new here."

I purse my lips. None of this makes any sense to me. "Does everyone just do whatever he says?"

"Pretty much."

I shrug one shoulder and look toward the dancefloor.

God, is it hot in here? I bring my fingers up to my temple, and they come away damp. The air feels thick, heavy in my lungs.

Ros takes my drink and places it on the bar, then offers his hand. "Then fuck him. Let's dance."

"That sounds ahhhhh-mazing." As I step away from the bar, the room around me spins and I falter a little.

"Whoa," Ros says, grabbing me by the elbow. "Careful. You okay?"

"I'm good, thanks." I stand straight and steady to prove my point.

He smiles, takes my hand and we wend our way out to the middle of the dancefloor. The music is so loud, I can't hear myself think-which is probably a good thing, actually. The people rubbing up against me are barely clothed, some wearing as little as leather pantie sets, or assless chaps. But I don't care. For the first time, I feel completely free as I move my body to the chaotic rhythm of the music.

Ros moves in time behind me, his large hands on my hips, tugging me against his pelvis. It should feel weird, being this close to a stranger. But here, it feels completely natural. Like the rules of the outside world don't apply here.

I'm taking it all in, loving the way my body moves instinctively to the music, when I feel a large hand grip my elbow. I turn to see Grey staring down at me.

Grey. Of course.

He pulls me toward the edge of the crowd, back to the bar.

"Hey," I say, trying to tug my arm out of his iron hold. He doesn't hear me, or if he does, he doesn't show it. Not even a hint of acknowledgment. So rude.

When we get to the bar, he releases me and hands me a glass of ice water. "I told you not to move."

Emboldened by the vodka, I shake my head and shove him in the shoulder. "Why are you being like this?"

"Like what exactly?"

"So mean."

He pushes a breath out and looks toward the dance floor. "Many of the men here are masochists and they're eying you like prey."

My legs feel a little unsteady, so I plop down on the stool. I tilt my chin up so I can see his beautiful gray eyes-though in the dark club, they look almost black. "Isn't that also how you look at me?"

I pause a moment, wondering if I'd just said that outloud. Then I decide I must have, because the look on his face shifts quickly from annoyed to angry. I reach out and brush a finger down the bridge of his nose, then over his lips. "You are so beautiful, I think it must be illegal." My finger traces the line of his strong jaw. The hint of stumble scrapes against my fingertip. "Why are you always so angry at me?"

He grabs my hand and moves it away from his face. "I'm not angry, Miss Steele. I'm cautious. You don't know what you're getting yourself into by being here and I'd rather you not tempt the devil."

Tempt the devil. That's exactly what I wanted to do.

My gaze darts to the bartender, and I try to catch his eye, but he's too busy. He doesn't see me, so I turn to Grey. "Will you order me a moscow mule? I had one, but I left it…"

He places the water in front of me. "Drink some water first."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You are sooo bossy, do you know that?"

"Drink it." Then he adds, "Please."

He looks concerned, so I humor him by taking a small sip. "Happy?"

"Not quite."

With a sigh, I take a long pull from the glass, just to shut him up. The cold water makes my head hurt, but I manage to finish off half the glass. I place it back down on the bar, but I misjudge and the glass grazes the lip, then falls and shatters on cement floor below my feet. I don't even hear it. I just see it in slow motion, watching as the ice and clear liquid dance in the air a moment before they fall to the ground.

I blink. A strange sort of heaviness has settled around my temples, and my eyes sting. Maybe I should go find the bathroom and re-group? I slide off the stool and stand, but the second my feet hit the ground, my legs give way.

With lightning reflexes, Grey swoops in and catches me in his arms. Our bodies are pressed together, my chest against his hard abs. The heavy thud of his heart vibrates against me, and I try hard to focus on it.

"Easy," Grey says, his warm breath fanning across my cheek.

This all-consuming weakness isn't normal. Panic starts to kick in and I look up to ask him what's happening to me. But before I can get out a single word, darkness closes in on me and I can't say anything at all.