Chapter Ten

With Christian's idea of a small welcoming party for Jacque and Felice being his family and almost two hundred of the country's elite, those familiar saber-toothed butterflies are attacking Ana's stomach as they approach the venue in a limousine. Christian squeezes her hand, where it rests in his. When she looks at him, to offer a weak smile, he gently asks, "Do we have to go through this every time? You're as good as anyone in there."

They're both shocked by Taylor's sudden, "Better."

Christian gestures to their driver and agrees, "Just so."

Ana smiles at both of them and says, "Thank you, Taylor." Of Christian, she asks, "Weren't you ever nervous about going to this sort of thing?"

"Still am, baby. I just don't let it take over."

"Rich people make you nervous?"

Clearly surprised that she's asking, Christian says, "Baby, almost everything makes me nervous. You know this."

Realizing she should have guessed that, Ana shakes her head and says, "You're amazing."

His mouth quirking in a smile, Christian says, "I am?"

Leaning against his shoulder, Ana says, "Yes. I'm okay now, thank you."

"No more nerves?"

"Oh, I'm still nervous. But, if a wuss like you can get through it, so can I."

Christian is dangerously quiet for a moment and then says, "Just for that, you have to think of a toast for Felice, and stand up to deliver it at the end of the evening."

Shocked, Ana looks at him to protest, "What? No. That's not how it works, Christian." With a nervous glance at Taylor, she hisses, "You can't just make up punishments." When he only stares at her, that suddenly annoying eyebrow raised as a challenge, Ana says, "Fine. I trust you. But you're breaking the rules."

The car is pulling up outside the building, Taylor having successfully negotiated the sea of reporters, and Christian says, "And you're stretching them to the limits by deliberately provoking me when I can't do anything about it for several hours."

When Ana cheerfully reminds him "And you wouldn't have it any other way," his only response is a smile.

With a now established ease, the couple wait for Taylor to open a door, and then Christian helps Ana from the car, leaning close as she exits to whisper, "By the way, you look stunning tonight, Mrs. Grey."

Even as she bashfully lowers her gaze and blushes a little at the praise, Ana knows that he's done it on purpose. But there's nothing she can do about the reaction; a kind word from Christian is worth ten from anyone else. The resulting storm of camera flashes confirms that their exchange has not gone unnoticed. Desperate for some way to even the playing field, Ana suddenly drops her clutch purse. Christian's quick grin confirms that he's on to her. Nevertheless, he gracefully squats down and picks up her purse, wiping imaginary dust from it with his sleeve before gazing up at her as he returns it.

With every half-way decent photographer having waited for the moment when a smiling Ana accepts the purse from her tuxedo-clad husband – him practically on his knees – night turns to day for a few moments. Christian stands and kisses Ana's cheek as he murmurs, "Round one to you, I think."

It's the same venue that Christian and Brit use for their charity events. So Ana is at least familiar with the layout, though tonight the dining tables are larger and a full orchestra is playing gentle background music. Christian is greeted by several beautiful people as they make their way across the room. He introduces Ana to them, but her nervousness has returned enough that she quickly forgets their names. The first person Ana recognizes is a typically excited Mia, who babbles at them as she embraces each in turn. When she floats away to greet someone else, Ana whispers to Christian, "How come Mia can hug you?"

Christian grins and quietly replies, "I could never stop her. If you find a way to control her, please do let me know."

Smiling, Ana nods and says, "I guess a toddler wasn't much of a threat?"

"Exactly. It was still…uncomfortable, but bearable. I suspect only because I'd known her forever. Plus, her attention span means she never lingers." Nodding towards the door, Christian adds, "The guests of honor have arrived."

They move over to a wide-eyed Felice, in a modest darkest-blue evening gown, and an attentive Jacque, in a vintage black tuxedo with white waistcoat, who warmly greets Christian as the women embrace, saying, "Thanks, for this. I've banned Flick from reading the newspapers until things settle down. Your support should help a lot."

"Or make you a target. But I'm glad to help. You're on, by the way."

"The gym?" Suddenly elated, Jacque continues, "Wonderful. I'll get the paperwork to you."

Greeting Felice, with a polite kiss on the cheek, Christian then says, "You happy with divide and conquer? Ana can introduce you to our family and friends while your husband I work the room."

Knowing how shy Felice is, Ana realizes this is the perfect plan, and is smiling her love for him as she and Felice intone at the same time, "I'd like that."

With schmoozing out of the way, it's time for dinner. As the last delicate morsel passes Ana's lips, she leans back, wondering if it's actually possible for a stomach to be happy. Peering at her, perhaps a little too intently, Christian asks, "What did you think of the meal?"

"Mmm…delicious. Everything was so good." Suddenly realizing why he's waiting so eagerly for the answer, Ana says, "You chose the menu to please me."

His face lighting up with a satisfied smile, Christian says, "The wine list, too."

Almost in tears at his tender concern, Ana says, "Will you still insist on the lie that you're selfish?"

"Completely; doing this for you gives me pleasure, too."

The constant din makes it unlikely that anyone can overhear them, but Ana leans in close, just in case, and says, "We're pleasuring each other in public, now?"

Christian's eyes blaze with passion and he says, "Maybe later. We're here for a reason." Standing, he continues, "To that end; time to help Felice with her nerves, I think."

Ana watches with amusement as a flustered Felice at first tries to refuse Christian's request for a dance, until Jacque persuades her. Ana can't hear what Christian then says as their eyes meet, but she's not surprised when Jacque approaches her and says, "Would you care to dance, Mrs. Grey?"

Not that she actually needs his permission, but Ana feels easier knowing that Christian is okay with the idea, and puts her hand in his as she says, "I'd love to, thank you."

The orchestra seamlessly moves into a waltz, even as the volume increases. Considering how he moved that time they danced together at Cruz Bay, Ana isn't all that surprised to find that Jacque is an expert at this sort of dancing, too. When he looks at her with one eyebrow raised in question, she realizes that her thoughts had made her smile. A few couples have joined them, but there's still enough room for relative privacy, so she explains, "I was just thinking that being able to waltz must be part of your credentials; in your former profession, at least."

Jacque grins and reveals, "Yes, though the ladies do like to tango."

Ana giggles and says, "Not with a clichéd rose in your teeth?"

Apparently in earnest, Jacque says, "Oh, yes. You'd be amazed. Mostly all they want is some romance in their lives."

Realizing that something must be different about his last ever client, Ana says, "But not Felice."

Sparing his wife a glance, where she twirls safe in Christian's arms, Jacque's gaze is softer when it returns to Ana, and he says, "No, not Felice. She craves only kindness."

If there was ever any doubt in Ana's mind that what Jacque feels for Felice is real love, it must be dispelled by the warmth in his voice when he speaks of her. "Then I'm glad she found you."

Flashing a brilliant smile, his teeth looking almost impossibly white in contrast with his light-brown skin, Jacque simply says, "So am I."

As the tune ends, Brit is waiting to dance. With a grin, Ana asks, "Me or him?"

"Either. But I meant you, dear girl."

Jacque makes the decision for them, literally bowing out as he says, "All yours."

Leading as gracefully as he can on the now fairly crowded dance floor, Brit says, "He's cute."

Luxuriating in that familiar, comforting feeling of peace that seems to envelope her whenever Brit is near, Ana smiles and says, "He's also married."

With an almost convincing grimace of pain, Brit says, "Such a waste; just like with Christian."

She knows he's teasing, but rises to the bait, anyway. "I'd prefer to think otherwise."

His eyes sparkling with mirth, Brit says, "Well, you would." Suddenly serious, he asks, "A better week?"

"Much, thank you. Things have settled down." Mindful of so many ears nearby, Ana continues, "I'm kept out of the legal loop, but things are going well there, too?"

Discreet as ever, Brit nods and says, "On track for a satisfactory resolution." His serious mood disappearing as quickly as it appeared, he says, "I'm going to dip you."

"No, you're not." The twinkle in his eyes confirming that he's not listening, Ana warns "Brit," but it's no good, and all she can do is be grateful that tonight she's wearing panties, as her hair almost skims the floor when he suddenly and expertly dips her before bringing her back into his arms. Laughing at the ridiculous stunt, Ana says, "You're incorrigible."

Looking over her shoulder for a moment, Brit smiles and says, "And, you're welcome."

When he then bows and backs away, Ana knows that it's Christian who touches her elbow. Turning into his arms, she smiles and says, "Hello, again."

Spinning her across the floor, Christian says, "Looked like you needed rescuing."

"Not really. But I'm sure he knew you wouldn't be able to resist doing so."

Clearly surprised, Christian glances towards his friend, smiles and says, "That was sneaky."

"So, whom did you ditch for me?"

"Mom. She didn't mind. Her hip is playing up tonight."

"She's hurt?"

"Arthritis."

"But…isn't she too young?"

Christian smiles and says, "She'll be thrilled that you think so." Leaning close, he quietly reveals, "She's fifty-eight, Ana."

Shocked, Ana's step would have faltered if Christian would permit it, and she says, "She looks at least a decade younger than that."

"She maintains that it's the kids she works with; apparently, they keep her young."

The music again ends and a vaguely familiar man is waiting for his chance with Ana. Christian steps aside, surreptitiously tapping Ana twice on the arm as he does so. Suddenly nervous, despite this reassurance, she warily assumes a respectable stance in the stranger's arms as she says, "Uh, I'm sorry; we met before, but I don't recall…?"

Smiling, the tuxedoed young man says, "Dharma; Johnny Dharma." At Ana's sudden giggle, he at first looks confused, and then says, "Oh, I see what you mean, especially with the tux. And I do like martinis, though I prefer mine stirred; shaking them with ice dilutes them."

Still smiling at the comparison, Ana asks, "So James Bond is a light-weight?"

"Absolutely. But I'm a genuine welterweight."

Catching on that he's talking weight divisions, Ana asks, "What's the difference?"

"About fifteen pounds."

Conversation stalls for a few seconds, and then Ana says, "So, you know Jacque?"

"Not until tonight, though I'm interested in his new training school."

"Are you an Ultimate Fighter, too?"

With a smirk, Johnny says, "On a good day, yes, though I've never actually been in the cage. I'm a boxer."

"Cage?"

"Nickname for the UFC ring. The championship used to be referred to as no-holds-barred, and I guess the idea of two fighters in a cage suited that myth."

"Sounds horrible."

Johnny laughs and says, "It's not so bad nowadays. Many women are joining the competition, too."

"And what weight division would I start as?"

"You fight, Mrs. Grey?"

"Not exactly, and please call me 'Ana'. I've just started kickboxing lessons."

Johnny's entire demeanor changes, as if he's reassessing his opinion of her. Holding Ana a little away from him, he studies her body a moment before resuming their close stance, and pronounces, "No more than flyweight; probably light flyweight, in boxing terms. You could stand to put on a few pounds."

Not genuinely upset, Ana says, "That's a little presumptuous when we've just met."

With an easy laugh, Johnny says, "Sorry. I just meant that it might help with your training."

"Oh. Then you're forgiven." With a small shrug, Ana says, "I presume that will change anyway. Claude says that I'll put on weight as my muscle tone improves."

"Claude…Bastille?" At Ana's nod, he smiles and says, "Then you should be ready to kick my ass in a few weeks."

Grinning, Ana says, "I don't think Christian would like that. He's a little cautious where I'm concerned."

There's something more than politeness in his voice when Johnny says, "I'm not surprised." Straightening his posture, as if physically reining in his mood, he quickly says, "And does Christian also train with Bastille?"

"Yes, for several years, though he's considering Jacque's gym, I think; something about expanding his skills."

Nodding, Johnny says, "Good plan. Kickboxers don't do so well in MMA unless they also train in submission techniques." At Ana's obvious confusion, he explains, "Choke holds, wrist locks; that sort of thing. Christian is considering competition?"

"I don't think so." Her eyes widening in horror at the thought of Christian's beautiful face beaten and bloodied, Ana adds, "I hope not."

With a gentle smile, Johnny says, "Seems like you're cautious about him, too."

Blushing at being read so easily, Ana jokes, "No. It's just that we live in the public eye and people will suspect spousal abuse if he's black and blue."

Her charming partner is still laughing as the music ends, and he says, "Another? Or time for a rest?"

"Rest, please."

Offering Ana the crook of his arm, to escort her off the dance floor, Johnny says, "Probably just as well. If looks could kill, I'd be dead by now."

Guessing what he means, Ana soon spots Christian at their table and, yes, his gaze is a little intense. "Oh, dear."

"Problem?"

"Not for me. But you'd better avoid him for a few minutes."

Clearly unperturbed, Johnny guides Ana to her chair and says, "A pleasure, Ana." To Christian, who stood as they approached, he suggests, "Considering why we're here, Grey, I think a little demonstration might not be out of order."

His tone too calm, Christian sits as he asks, "You and I?"

"No, my friend; you and Pretorius. Ana says you're qualified."

When Christian's black gaze swivels to her, Ana defends, "All I said was that you've been training with Claude for a while." Glaring at Johnny, she asks, "You mean a martial arts demonstration, don't you?"

He's nodding even as Mia overhears and excitedly exclaims, "Oh, please, Christian. I've been dying to see what you can do."

As if his sister hasn't even spoken, Christian stares at Johnny for a few seconds and then says, "Okay. Find Pretorius and set it up for later. If security sees a cellphone out during the demo, it will leave this building in pieces."

Beaming his pleasure at the idea, Johnny says, "Excellent. This should liven things up a little." With a nod to Ana and Mia, he's gone.

Wondering just how much trouble she's in, despite having done nothing wrong, Ana offers her open palm to Christian. After only a moment's hesitation, he accepts and brings the hand to his lips before saying, "We're okay. Just don't like him."

Not even bothering to moderate her voice, because they're surrounded by family and friends, Ana says, "Christian, you wouldn't like anyone who danced with me."

Finally relaxing a little, he smiles and says, "True." Suddenly standing, he says, "Come on. I need some air."

With an apologetic glance over the table, Ana is not quite hauled through the nearest exit. When Christian looks behind them and shakes his head once, Ana guesses that he's ordering Taylor to stand down. They're in a small garden, now dimly lit with hanging lanterns. Effectively alone, Ana says, "Christian, I don't have a change of clothes."

Clearly surprised, Christian stops and stares at her, then shakes his head and chuckles, saying, "I like the way you think, Mrs. Grey, but I was being literal in there; I just need to get away for a while, with you. I told you these things make me nervous."

"Oh."

Laughing again, as he draws her into his arms, Christian says, "Disappointed, baby?"

"A little, yes." Smiling, Ana says, "Though I honestly don't know how we'd manage to fuck without ruining this dress."

Idly caressing the curves of her body, only the width of slate-blue satin between them, Christian says, "Maybe when we get home, I'll do exactly that."

Her senses already in turmoil from his jealousy and ensuing affection, they're further tested by his hot hands on her body and the passion of his kiss. By the time Christian comes up for air, Ana means it when she says, "Fuck it. I don't care about the dress."

Christian chuckles and touches his nose to hers before saying, "You'll care very much when you have to walk back in past my family, with only tattered shreds covering your ass."

Ana giggles at the idea and says, "Point well made, Mr. Grey. You sure you're okay? I know you said that we shouldn't let your neuroses determine our social life, but I can't enjoy myself when I'm worried that my actions are torturing you."

Holding her a little tighter, Christian rests his chin against Ana's hair and starts moving to the music floating towards them as he says, "I'm okay, sweetheart. I still have a strong urge to hurt anyone who even looks at you with lust in their eyes…which is at least half of the people in that room. But the medication must be helping, because I didn't actually picture Dharma's death." Suddenly drawing back enough to see her face, he asks, "Though what the fuck was he doing, studying you as if you're a side of beef?"

Ana smiles, suddenly understanding the cause of Christian's unease, and explains, "Oh, that. With him being a boxer, we were mostly talking about fighting, and I asked him my weight division."

Christian has stopped moving before she's finished the sentence and he practically growls, "Don't even think about it."

With only a few lessons under her belt, Ana hadn't even considered fighting competitively – is not sure if she ever will – but that part of her that abhors injustice angrily says, "Oh, so it's okay for you to fight without protection, but I'm not allowed to fight at all?"

Apparently confused by the vehemence of her response, Christian says, "Ana, I've been training most of my adult life. And you've barely started."

Wondering why she's persisting with the idea, Ana can't stop herself from saying, "How many years before I can fight?"

Squirming with discomfort at the very idea, Christian is honest enough to say, "Never. I'd never be okay with it."

"What happened to not letting your neuroses rule us?"

Running a hand through his hair, Christian says, "Fuck, Ana, you can't…I can't…"

Taking pity on him, because she knows that this is truly the best she can hope for right now, Ana says, "I don't have a desire to pummel or be pummeled. But I'd very much like you to verbally acknowledge my right to do so."

Finally understanding that she'd just been making a point, Christian visibly relaxes and rests his forehead against hers to whisper, "You and your defiant nature will be the death of me."

Sensing that all is again well between them, Ana says, "I'm not hearing the words."

With a sigh, Christian maintains the contact between their brows as he gently says, "I acknowledge your right to participate in unarmed combat, if that is what you desire. And I trust you to take all possible precautions if you do."

When they kiss this time, it's more tender than passionate, and they just hold each other for a while. Eventually, Ana draws back enough to look up at Christian and say, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. So, this is something I don't have to really worry about for a few years, right?"

"Right." With a cheeky grin, Ana teases, "Oh, in the meantime, I was thinking of taking up competitive car racing." When Christian suddenly spins on his heel and heads inside, Ana says, "Christian?"

Shaking his head as he walks, Christian says, "All of a sudden, a roomful of strangers seems like a friendly environment."

Laughing, Ana has no way of catching him in heels, so she says, "Christian? Baby, I was just playing."

Stopping so abruptly that Ana almost runs into him, Christian grins and catches her in his arms, saying, "I know. And the state of that dress will be the least of your concerns when we get home."

Her body again heating up at the delicious thought, Ana stammers, "Wh..what you do have in mind, Mr. Grey?"

His hands gliding over her body, Christian quietly promises, "I'm going to cuff you, spread-eagled, to the cross, then tear this delicate material to shreds and flay what's left of it from your tender flesh." Almost casually cupping a hand over her groin, he leans by her ear to whisper, "If you manage not to come, I'll release you and fuck you on what remains of this exquisite gown."

Hypnotized by the description, her legs barely able to support her, Ana can't even speak for a few seconds and then squeaks, "Okay."

With a grin that confirms he knows exactly what effect he's having on her, Christian purrs, "I wasn't asking your permission, baby." Grabbing her hand, he's again striding inside, this time with Ana in tow, as he says, "Come on, let's dance."

Author's personal note: Haven't forgotten your question cr8tiveink; just clearly not in control of the story;-)