Chapter 2

Anastasia PoV

I couldn't believe Kate was making me do this. I hated dancing. I hated being touched. And I hated music. Well, that last one wasn't true, but for the sake of the argument, it was. She wouldn't listen to me. Despite years of therapy, I couldn't stand being touched. Any time someone touched anything other than my hands, or kissed my cheeks, it brought back horrid memories of my childhood.

Kate was just a baby when it happened. An infant. She doesn't remember. Hell, Ethan hardly remembers, and he was four. I was nearly six the day we were rescued, and I remember everything.

I was dragged away from Christian towards the dance floor where a large group of young women had congregated, all participants, I guessed. "There are plenty of girls here to choose from," I hissed at my sister. "You don't need me."

"Of course we do!" Mia interjected, putting her hand on my shoulder. I froze. My breaths came in and out in short pants and within seconds, she released me, understanding coloring her features. Curious, that. "Um, it'll be fun," she added, feeling apologetic for some reason.

One by one, the women were called up, given exorbitantly exaggerated back-stories, and the men would bid their hard earned dollars on them, for just one dance. Perhaps I could convince whatever man won me to just dance near each other, and not with each other. I could be very convincing when I needed to be.

"And here's the lovely Kate!" the auctioneer bellowed, pulling my sister on stage. "At just twenty-one, Kate is a well-known interior designer, loves long walks on the beach, speaks five languages and is an accomplished ballerina! Let's begin with five-thousand dollars!" Five languages? That's a bit of an exaggeration. Oh wait, they do that on purpose, I think. I'm the one that speaks five languages. And the bidding began on my sister. If this wasn't such a joke, and if the money weren't going to a really great cause, then I might have been a little put off by the whole situation. These men were paying tens of thousands of dollars for one dance with a woman they knew nothing about. Pure objectification. Part of me wondered if these men would expect something more than just a dance out of us.

Finally after getting to thirteen thousand dollars, Kate was auctioned off to Elliot. Hmm, that was interesting. Perhaps he was into her. She giggled like a school girl and danced into his waiting arms. Yep, they were definitely into each other. Good for Kate.

Mia was on the chopping block next, and to my utter shock, my brother Ethan outbid everyone for her. A whopping seventeen thousand dollar bid. I knew he had the money; hell, I signed his paychecks, but still. Mia seemed all too excited to be in his arms and I wondered if a romance would blossom there as well. Then it would only be expected for me to make it with Christian. It'd be the perfect cliché. Three siblings falling for another set of three siblings. Our parents would rejoice.

Little did they know, I had no interest in romance. Of any sort. Although, if I had to, I could definitely do worse than Christian Grey.

Oh crap. I was next. "Last but certainly not least, we have the demure Anastasia!" He grasped my hand and twirled me around the stage, causing my face to turn several shades of crimson. Thank god for the mask. "At twenty-six, she has two masters' degrees, runs a company, has mastered several forms of martial arts, and speaks fluent Mandarin! Shall we begin with ten thousand dollars?" Ten thousand dollars?! For the beginning bid? Was he crazy?! Wait; maybe that was Kate's ploy all along. Get me all stressed out about this stupid dance, only to have the auctioneer start my bidding off way too high. No one would want to pay 10,000 dollars for me.

To my shock and utter surprise, Christian Grey accepted the first bid. Another man upped it to twelve thousand, and Christian countered with fifteen. What?! Not one but two men wanted to dance with me? Me? I had no idea who the other man was. His face was obscured by the mask, and what I could see of him didn't ring any bells.

The proverbial dick measuring contest went on until Christian blurted out, "One hundred thousand dollars." My mouth hit the floor. Several people around me were hissing their disbelief. One girl that had been auctioned off earlier for a mere seven thousand dollars, not even earning a single bid from Christian, glared at me with such hatred in her eyes, it nearly turned me to stone.

I realized then that Christian hadn't bid on any of the women until me. Why was that? It should have been obvious to me that he wanted to dance with me, but until that moment, I had no idea.

"Sold!" the auctioneer announced. I was frozen to my spot on the floor, gaping at Christian. Somehow I made my way down the steps of the stage and partway in his direction.

"Shall we dance?" Christian asked, as he casually strolled up to me. He held his hand out to me, and I regarded it as if it were a venomous snake. I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but hope and curiosity in them. You've got to get over your fears, Steele, my subconscious lectured me.

"Um, alright," I replied, finally, placing my hand in his. "Not too close though," I requested, pleading to him with my eyes, not even bothering to hide my fear.

"Of course," he said. "I'll just hold your hand and place my other here." He gently placed his hand on my waist, not touching my skin, thankfully. I flinched minutely, but the contact wasn't altogether abhorrent. He kept his arms almost fully extended so there was a foot of space between us. "Is this alright?"

"Yes, this is fine." I placed my free hand on his upper arm and felt him flinch beneath my touch. Did he hate to be touched as much as I did?

The music began and we moved across the dance floor. He was a glorious dancer, leading me perfectly, keeping the distance between us, but never taking his eyes off mine. "You have beautiful eyes, Anastasia," he told me. I blushed under my mask, thankful that he couldn't see it.

Round and round the dance floor we went, completely oblivious to the dancers around us. Somehow we avoided collisions, but something told me Christian knew exactly what he was doing. He was the master of his universe, controller of all things. Something very deep and dark inside me told me he wanted control of me, too.

Christian PoV

She let me touch her! Well, her waist, not her skin, but it was a start. Before the auction had begun, I strolled over and spoke with her parents. Curious about the enigma that was Anastasia Steele.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Steele. I'm Christian, Carrick and Grace's son," I greeted them, shaking their hands.

"Oh yes! We were just speaking about you. Your mother saw you leading our daughter on a tour of the grounds. She mentioned she'd never seen you with anyone before," Mrs. Steele said.

"Yes, well, your daughter is a lovely woman," I replied. "She's participating in the dance auction, and I've vowed to ensure that I get her first dance."

"She did what?" they chorused in unison.

At my confused expression, Mr. Steele explained. "Our daughter… well, she likes to keep her distance from people. Physically I mean. She doesn't like to be touched. So we're surprised that she'd consent to dancing with anyone. Ever."

"Well, I can ensure that I'll touch her as little as possible," I promised them. "It seemed as though your other daughter, Kate, along with my sister, Mia, were quite insistent on getting Anastasia on the dance floor."

"Oh Kate," Mrs. Steele muttered. "Will she ever learn?" She had a sad, wistful expression on her face.

This confused me. Evidently, Anastasia's parents were well aware of her aversion to being touched. As mine were aware of my similar aversion. But my siblings never pressed it. They never tried to get me out of my shell. For a moment I wondered if that was a good or a bad thing. Perhaps they should have tried harder to get me to come around.

As soon as I saw her on the stage, waiting to be bid upon, I knew I'd stop at nothing to ensure she was in my arms for the dance. The bidding began at ten thousand, which was higher than any other beginning bid, but I didn't care. She was worth every penny. I didn't know who the hell the other guy was that was bidding on her, but he put off a very creepy vibe, so I blurted out a hundred grand to get him off her scent.

Dancing with her was like floating on a cloud. I could feel the soft fabric of her dress swishing against my legs with each turn. Her hair would brush against my fingers or even across my face when I twirled her around. The feeling was exquisite. Her hair was softer than the silk wrap around her shoulders. It brushed against my hand like a caress. I wanted nothing more than to thread my fingers into her hair and hold her close to me. Would she ever let me?

Regretfully, the song came to an end and Anastasia stepped away from me, breaking my contact with her. "That was lovely," she told me, her eyes downcast. "Thank you, Christian." She peeked up at me shyly and I knew right then and there she'd make a perfect submissive. All I had to do was get her out of her shell. Away from her fear of being touched. I could be patient with her, take my time showing her the amazing things her body could feel.

"Dinner is almost about to be served," Gretchen informed me as she passed. She looked at me like she wanted to eat me up, and then looked at Anastasia as if she was an evil witch. Jeez, one dance and all the women were jealous. I offered my hand to Anastasia once again, inviting her into the tent for the meal. She took it with a smile and let me lead her off the dance floor.

Once in the tent, I noticed that each table had assigned seats. Much to my happiness, Anastasia was assigned to the seat next to mine. I rejoiced inside, but only let a small smile show on my face. This woman was affecting me in ways I'd never felt before. I couldn't remember the last time I felt butterflies in my stomach. Never, probably.

I held out the chair for her, for which she thanked me. "Am I allowed to take this thing off to eat?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied, glad she was asking permission for something. That held promise. I waited with baited breath as she removed her mask. She reached one delicate hand up, and removed the string from the tie on one side, pulling the string out of her carefully coiffed hair, and the slid the mask off, placing it next to her empty champagne flute. She kept her face down, shielding it from me. I wanted to reach over, grasp her chin gently, and turn her towards me.

Finally she took in a deep breath and looked up, scanning the room for assurance that others were also removing their masks. I pulled mine off to give her added comfort. She turned towards me and looked into my eyes. Her eyes were so blue, clear, like the icy waters of Alaska, but not cold. They held a warmth there, a comfort that I'd never known. But it also felt like they could see right through me. I felt… exposed.

"You have beautiful eyes, too," she complimented me. Blushing as she did so. I was lost in her gaze. The world around us a blur of colors and movement that I cared not to pay attention to. The house could be on fire, a tornado ripping across the lawn, and the ocean stirring up a mighty storm, and I wouldn't notice.

"Thank you," I finally replied. "You are so beautiful." She blushed immediately, her entire face turning a pale rose color. It was lovely. I wondered if the rest of her body would turn that lovely color after a nice flogging or cropping. The possibilities were endless. I realized that she must be really very shy and possibly insecure. Given her sister was a blonde haired, green eyed beauty, well to some, at least. She probably saw herself as in Kate's shadow in that department. Though where I found Kate's beauty to be rather generic and unappealing, Anastasia was a wonder. A joy to look at. And she had no idea the effect she had.

As we sat in comfortable silence, Anastasia perused the menu, reading it aloud:

A Masked Ball in Aide of Coping Together Menu

Salmon Tartare with Crème Fraiche and Cucumber on Toasted Brioche

Alban Estate Rousanne, 2006

Roasted Muscovy Duck Breast

Creamy Jerusalem Artichoke Puree

Thyme Roasted Bing Cherries

Foie Gras

Chateauneuf-due Pape Veilles Vignes, 2006

Domaine de la Janasse

Sugar-Crusted Walnut Chiffon

Candied Figs

Sabayon

Maple Ice Cream

Vin de Constance 2004 Klein Constantia

Selection of Local Cheeses and Breads

Alban Estate Granache, 2006

Coffee and Petits Fours.

"And here I thought you spoke fluent Mandarin," I joked. She pronounced each item perfectly.

"Oh most of that was made up, and you know it," she replied sardonically. "But I do speak French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and Romanian."

I balked. "All fluently?" She nodded shyly. Wow, beautiful, witty and intelligent. She was like a dream.

The courses began to arrive, and I watched, interested as Anastasia cleaned each plate. Few women I knew would be able to put away that much food and maintain the tiny figure that Anastasia had. She had curves in all the right places, but overall, she was rather slight. Perhaps she was no stranger to hunger, like me.

"If you like the cuisine here, the chef owns a restaurant downtown. My family knows him well. I'd be happy to take you there for dinner sometime. If you like," I offered. This was the first time in my entire life that I'd ever asked a woman out to dinner. Never had the idea ever even popped into my head before. Anastasia certainly was having me experience all kinds of new things. A world of firsts.

"Like on a date?" she asked, suddenly unsure of herself.

"If you'd like to call it that, sure," I replied. "Or we could just go as friends. Whatever makes you more comfortable."

She sat in silence for a few long moments, indecision running through her. She wrung her hands together, nervously. I was about to tell her to forget the whole thing when she finally spoke. "Okay," she said.