~*~*~*~ "What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!."

After I had stepped away from the table to call Sarah and ask her to cover for me (of course she agreed and promised to take care of everything), I made my way back to Adrian to find him signing the receipt and rising from the table at my approach. "Everything taken care of, Miss Grey?"

Unable to speak – choked with fear and nervousness and excitement – I simply nodded. He seemed to understand, and gripped my elbow gently to lead me out of the restaurant. Arthur was waiting with the door open, and we ducked inside to shelter ourselves from the rain that was still pouring. Once Arthur was seated, Adrian gave some kind of signal to him and then we were off through the city.

I tried to pay attention to where we were headed, but with the rain and the thoughts running through my mind, I found that my attention span was quite short. So, finally, I simply settled back against the seat and stared straight ahead.

"Don't worry, Miss Grey," Adrian murmured softly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him doing something on his cell phone. "You're going to be okay."

Somehow, his words put me at ease. Oh, sure, trust the possible serial killer…I once again looked out the window and noticed that we were leaving Seattle behind. The car's clock told me that it was just past twelve-thirty, which meant that I had three hours until school was over. And even then, I had another few hours because I was supposed to volunteer at the library after school and Taylor wouldn't show up to get me because I was planning to ride with Sarah.

We drove for a while and just before one, we turned off on a barely discernable road. See? I told you that this was a bad idea! They're going to pull off into the woods somewhere and kill you! They'll bury you where you'll never be found and then what will happen? Your family will fall apart! No one will know what happened! You'll die before getting to experience college and a job and life…

"Disappointing, Miss Grey," Adrian said softly, giving me a sardonic smile. "How little you trust me. I thought we had a connection."

How does he know what I'm thinking? "I… I do trust you."

Something in his eyes darkened. "I hope that's true." He looked out the window – the rain hadn't yet reached this area – and nodded approval. "We're here. Arthur, have the crews been through yet?"

"Yes, sir," Arthur answered from behind the wheel. "The last crew just left a little over an hour ago."

"Good."

Crew? I looked out the window and gaped at the house that we were approaching. The home that I had lived in all of my life was big and fancy, but this…

It was four stories, it seemed, and made of a material that looked like old stone from Dracula's castle. The windows were modern and new, tinted. Hidden away by the trees and hills, it seemed to be the perfect getaway.

As Arthur pulled us into one of the garages, I asked Adrian, "Whose house is this?"

"Mine, now," he answered and opened his door, beckoning for me to follow him. "I bought it the day after the party at the Ezras."

Dumbfounded, I followed him out and he took my hand to help me stand, another gesture of habitual chivalry. Without a word, he took my arm and led me inside, through a laundry room, a kitchen, and finally into a large living room decorated with sleek, modern furniture. Arthur did not follow us.

My eyes were immediately drawn to a grand piano in the corner of the room. Playing the piano was something that my father and I shared, and it made me think of how guilty I felt to be somewhere that I wasn't supposed to be.

Adrian noticed my preoccupation. "Do you play?" he asked politely.

"Yes," I answered and turned to face him, getting shivers from the way that he was looking at me. "My father taught me."

"Christian Grey playing the piano," he murmured. "An amusing picture, though I suppose not completely far-fetched. Come. Sit. Can I get you something to drink?"

I obediently sank down onto one of the long couches, crossing my legs as I did so. "No, thank you."

He nodded and then sat across from me on the edge of a chaise lounge, making the awkward perch look comfortable and natural. "Why are you here, Miss Grey?" he asked me, and I felt like I'd just sat down for an interrogation.

But my snarky side decided to do all of the talking. "Because Arthur drove us here."

He didn't smile. "Let's set the wit aside for now, Miss Grey. Answer my question. Now."

I responded instantly to the command. "Because I want to know the blues and reds. I want to know what makes you tick. I want to know why I…" I gulped and took a breath. Be brave. "I want to know why I can't stop thinking about you."

"Have you dreamed of me?" he wondered. "Because I've dreamed of you. Every night since that party."

You, too? "Yes."

"Good." He leaned forward a little more and said, "I have secrets, Phoebe Grey."

"So do I," I answered him, confused. "So does everyone."

"Not like this." His smile was one I'd never seen before – diabolical and bad boy, offering no apology. "You said that you wanted to know, so I'll tell you. But you'll need to sign a non-disclosure agreement first. You've already had your eighteenth birthday, have you not?"

"Y-yes," I stammered and cleared my throat. "Fine; I'll sign."

He nodded and rose. "I'll be right back." And then he was gone, disappearing into a room I'd yet to see.

In his absence, I looked around the room and noticed the lack of personality. It was a well-decorated room, but there were no photographs or personal affects. As though he had hired an interior decorator to do whatever they so pleased with the space.

He was back a minute later, holding a file folder, which he handed to me along with an expensive fountain pen. "Read this over and sign in the spaces marked by pink tabs."

I opened the folder and my eyes widened. It was genuinely an official NDA. With apprehension, I began to read, getting a bit confused in some places, though I worked my way through it. I knew that I probably could have asked him questions, but I was too stubborn to do so. Finally, I had finished, and I signed my name with a flourish before initialing where I was supposed to.

Handing it back to him, I bravely looked him right in the eye. "There, I signed your agreement. Now tell me what I want to know."

But he took his time, taking the folder from me and reading it over to be sure that I had signed everywhere that I was supposed to. Once he was satisfied, he rose and walked to a wall, where he moved a painting to get to a wall safe. After the document was stowed safely inside, he turned and walked back over to me, holding out his hand so that he could help me stand. I was confused, but obediently took his hand and allowed him to help me rise. We then headed for the staircase and began to climb.

At the top of the stairs we turned left and immediately climbed up the last staircase, which led up to a locked door made of some strange material I had never seen before. It was black and looked extraordinarily thick.

"Soundproof," he said when he saw me looking, and he withdrew a key from his pocket and stuck it in. Just before he turned it, he looked back at me, expressionless. "You're sure about this, Miss Grey?"

Oh, my God. There could be dead bodies in there. There could be all kinds of weapons that he plans to kill you with… "I'm ready."

Nodding, he turned the knob and pushed the door open, flipping on a light before moving to allow me to step in ahead of him.

When I had done so, I gasped.

Oh… My… God…

Though the light was on, the room was dim. But that didn't hinder me from seeing the contents of the room. One wall held an assortment of… weapons; canes, whips, and the suchlike. Another wall held row upon row of shelves, filled with things I'd never seen before, along with a shower, a large First Aid kit, and a long sink. Against the back wall was a large X. In the middle of the room was a large bed, larger than king, made up in sheets of the darkest black.

Whirling, I looked into the expressionless face of Adrian Taylor and knew that he was more messed up than I had ever imagined. "Adrian?" I asked softly, but he hardly responded. Just stared at me calmly. "What is this?" I refused to admit my fear.

"This," he said, stepping forward to gesture about the room. "Is my playroom." He looked into my eyes. "I am a Dominant, Phoebe."

Another step drew him too near, and he cupped my face in his hands, refusing to let me look away. "And I want you to be my Submissive."