Chapter 25

Just as I gain the steps to the cabana deck, he emerges from the cabana in a pair of loud shorts and still faithfully wearing his T-shirt.

"Oh, Christian. Are those the funny shorts you bought from that guy on the beach when we were visiting Cali and you took me for an impromptu surfing lesson?" My new friend Toni asks him in a saccharin little voice.

Christian grins happily. "Yes, that's right, Toni. I bought them from the beach vendor where we rented the boards. I like them, actually. They're comfortable." The board shorts were a garish sky-blue with orange accents—you couldn't miss them for a mile. Not Christian's style at all.

He just now notices me standing there. "Oh, Ana, come meet Mia's friends, Toni and Char. Ladies, this is Ana."

We exchange polite hellos before I ask. "Toni? Is it short for Antoinette?"

"Antonia," the blond says neutrally and her eyes swing back to Christian. "Aren't you going to take off your T-shirt to go into the pool?"

Ooh, she wants to see his chest. My cue. "Yes, Christian, take off your T-shirt," I say, my voice so sweet it can send someone into diabetic shock.

His head whips around to look at me, astonished, and I smile. "You don't want to get your shirt wet, now do you?"

His confusion vanishes slowly as he stares me down and it's replaced by a wicked grin. He reads me far too well. "If you say so, Ana," he replies, his hand reaching behind his head to yank it off. Pity that Toni is facing the front of him but I can fix that easily enough. I smile warmly at Mia who's also wearing a mischievous grin and reach for his arm, spinning him around so his back, angry red scratches and all, are clearly visible to all three women. Embarrassment is one thing but turf incursion trumps it completely. Toni has given me many sleepless nights and it's time to nip their whole little thang in the bud.

Mia cackles loudly when she sees proof of his sexual prowess. "No wonder you didn't want to take off your shirt, Christian. Ana! I'm shocked. You look so innocent, too."

I glance back over my shoulder and wink. "Christian makes me lose control—what can I say?"

I know my face is tomato-red but more importantly so is Toni's. Hers is not livid with embarrassment, however, but with anger and jealousy. She wants Christian for her own—she so does—but I'll go down fighting for him. My very next thought is horrible though: has he ever taken her into his dungeon?

We go back down to the pool and I catch his eye before we get there. "You're going to take a running leap into the pool and stay in, neck deep, until we're ready to get out. I'll get out first and toss you your shirt. Are we clear?"

He's laughing now and it's good to see him having such fun, even if it is at my expense. It crosses my mind that I've never seen him act so carefree before.

"Aye-aye, sir. Clear as glass."

We're about to attain the pool deck area when he suddenly lifts me up and does just what I instructed him to do: takes a running jump into the deep end of the pool. Fortunately the water is heated so it's not a complete shock to my system. Still I break surface sputtering from the unexpected plunge while everyone around me is guffawing at the spectacle.

"That's one way to enter a pool," Elliot says, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Kate is hanging onto his shoulders, chuckling, too. "It's also a good way to get your woman angry."

Christian looks down at me, currently sporting a drowned-rat look and not intimidating at all. "Oh, I can handle this little slip of a girl."

"Aren't you afraid you'll get all scratched up again?"

Both of us look up and there's Antonia standing there, smirking. I hate to admit it but she looks killer in her white bikini that's barely there. But what a bitch.

Of course Elliot now jumps on the bandwagon. "Scratches? What scratches?"

I am totally mortified by now but I have no choice but to just own it. I look at Christian who's trying so hard to maintain a straight face but cannot. "Show your brother my handiwork, Christian. I'm sure he'll be impressed."

Instead Christian takes the opportunity to dip my head to the surface of the water and kiss me passionately. After a few moments, I start to forget where I am and my arms wrap around his neck. Boy, can the man kiss. When he finally pulls away, his eyes are filled with heat and there's no trace of laughter on his face. I glance around to get my bearings and I happen to catch the black look of hatred on Antonia's pretty face before she whips around and stomps away to rejoin her friends who are now lounging poolside. I think everyone in the immediate vicinity knows what just went down and the only one who still thinks it's funny is Mia.

That Mia.

My eyes dart to Grace and Carrick, now seated together with the other older couple. Carrick gives me a thumbs up and Grace smiles affectionately. Okay, I can get through this, I think. Fortunately for me, Zander and his friends are on the big lawn playing Ultimate Frisbee so at least I'm spared that extra shame.

"Hey, where's the volleyball net?" Christian suddenly says. "Ana and I will play you and Kate. Justin," he yells to the man dangling his feet into the pool. "Wanna play? Just roust one of those pretty ladies and we'll divide up."

Needless to say, it isn't Antonia who jumps into the pool with Justin but Char. We take Justin and give Char to Elliot and Kate. Forty-five minutes later we have them soundly beaten.

"Alright, you guys, I'm as wrinkled as a prune. I'm getting out," Kate announces. "Coming, Ana?"

"Yes. I'll get your T-shirt, Christian… even though it's moot at this point."

He gifts me with a dazzling smile and I know it's okay. I think he's trying to tell me that his family won't judge me. Carrick and Grace have already acted warmly toward me so I feel better. Anyway, the good news is that I've declared myself to that blond who covets my boy so there will be no misunderstanding from here on in. That alone is worth the embarrassment I've had to go through.

Dinner is a hoot. Between Elliot's silliness and Christian's snark at him, sitting at the table is like enjoying a floorshow. When Mia starts in on both of them, we all just sit back and watch the sparks fly between the siblings. Grace has seated her sons at opposite ends of the table so everyone gets to enjoy their cantankerous relationship. I'm just waiting for Zander to join in but he appears to be the quiet one of the Grey siblings, hanging back and speaking softly to his friends.

After dinner, we retire to the living room for coffee and dessert. Elliot lumbers in with a plate laden with every fattening concoction that was offered and none of the healthy ones like fresh fruit and sorbet. He plops down in a Barcelona chair to eat. "How about some foosball, Christian? Up to getting your ass soundly thrashed?"

Rolling his eyes, Christian smirks. "Bring it on, Elliot. I'll kill you dead in minutes."

Shoving a giant forkful of Mississippi Mud Pie into his mouth, Elliot chews, swallowing quickly. "Let's go."

Christian's up like lightning and I'm about to follow suit when Carrick calls me. "Ana, may I speak with you privately for a moment?"

Oh, God. Is it about the scratches? My eyes dart frantically to Christian's but he looks merely confused. "Go ahead, Christian. I'll catch up with you in a few minutes."

"Okay," he says and his eyes shift to his father but Carrick's gaze is trained on me.

"Go," I say. "I'll be fine."

Christian reluctantly follows Elliot and Kate into the game room as Carrick leads me into his study: it's a beautiful room and the epitome of what you'd expect a gentleman's study to look like.

"Please, have a seat, Ana," he gestures toward a dark green leather settee, as he closes the door behind us. I sit down and look inquiringly up at him as he perches on the arm of a big chair sitting catercorner to the sofa.

"First, I want you to know how happy Grace and I are to see you and Christian back together again. I can't remember the last time I've seen him as relaxed and happy as he looks today. We have you to thank for that."

I clear my throat. "I think you're giving me far too much credit, Mr. Grey."

"Carrick, please, and I don't. Nor does Grace. Christian's had a tough time in his life. I know to look at him you'd never guess it but he has… and I suspect that you've already had some insight into that."

His eyes are questioning so I nod.

Carrick sighs. "Christian insists on believing the worst about himself… and always has. He attributes his mother's failings to himself: she didn't love him enough, so he wasn't worthy of her love, he caused our divorce because of his failures, etc." He shifts his eyes to look directly in mine and I can easily see the pain shadowing them. "Of course, none of it's true.

"His mother was a control freak who hid it well… that is, until we were married. The pregnancy was accidental and she was so very angry about it. What was surprising was that she didn't terminate it and be done with it.

"She had severe postpartum depression, bordering on psychosis. She tried her best to overcome it but she just could not. Her controlling ways over Christian when he was just an infant were her way of being a good mother to him, believe it or not. When that failed to put her on an even keel, she relied more and more on her best friend to help out. When her best friend and I ended up falling in love, Christian's mother was the first to encourage us, giving us her blessing to marry and raise Christian. She was in Indonesia, I believe, when she signed the adoption papers, relinquishing her parental rights to Grace. Unfortunately she died in the 2004 tsunami, may she rest in peace. The fact that she died before Christian had a chance to resolve things with her made it ever more difficult for him to come to terms with his mother's shortcomings and the reality that he was not responsible for any of it. He's been in counseling since he was a young child but he stubbornly clings to his idea of worthlessness." He shakes his head.

"It's incredible really, considering all that he's achieved and at such a young age, but there it is."

"Christian didn't tell me she died?"

"Well, there was no direct proof but no one's ever heard from her again. I suppose it's possible she's still alive but it's unlikely. Christian may choose to believe she still lives. I don't know."

"So Grace is… was… Catherine's best friend?"

"Yes, they grew up together. Catherine practically pushed Grace on me—it was very strange. When we fell in love, she was happy, truly happy for us. She wanted Grace to be a wife to me and a mother to Christian. She just wasn't cut out for that life. Contrary to what Christian believes she did love him, as much as she was capable of loving anyone. Still, she scarred him for life."

"Yes, she certainly did."

Alarm crosses his face. "Why do you say that?"

"Just things he's told me… and part of his lifestyle. I… I don't feel comfortable sharing his private details, even with you."

"I understand, Ana. I don't mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. It's just that his mother and I worry about him—him most of all out of all our children. I just wanted to give you a little background so you might… well, so you might possibly have more patience with him."

I don't know what to say so I keep quiet, waiting to be dismissed. Carrick, however, seems to have more to say.

"It looks to us as if you have feelings for him. Is that the case?"

I bob my head, unable to look him in the eye right now. This is excruciating for me.

"It's very obvious to his whole family that he has feelings for you, Ana, deep feelings. Do you think this relationship might be serious on your end?"

I finally look up. "Yes, but I can't speak for Christian. I care deeply about him and would very much like to make our relationship work. It's hard, though, even without Christian's difficulties. For one thing, he's a magnet for women. You saw what happened today. That woman, Toni, is obviously interested in him and was jealous when she saw me… making me jealous."

"Well, you handled the situation beautifully. If it's any consolation, Antonia has been after Christian since Mia first brought her home, oh about ten years ago. Christian has never expressed the least interest in her beyond that of a friend—and mostly Mia's friend at that. He would occasionally take her to a black-tie affair because she loves that kind of thing and she looks good on an arm. That's it."

I smile. What can I say to that? It does give me pause to wonder what Grace and Carrick would think if they knew of Christian's predisposition for dark, kinky sex. Maybe then they'd understand what I'm confronted with.

"I imagine we should join the others or they'll start wondering what happened to us. Christian's surely waiting for you in the game room. Come," he stands up, "I'll show you where it is."

I rise to follow him and he grasps my hand, giving it a squeeze and then releasing me. My mind is now churning a hundred miles per hour. So Christian is filled with self-loathing because his mother gave him away essentially. It sort of explains why he likes to beat up on women. At least he does it within the confines of safe and consensual sex and not anything violent. It makes me more determined than ever to try to explore that dark side of him… with him… if he'll ever let me.

Christian has just trounced Elliot for the second time when we stroll across the threshold of the game room.

"About time," Christian says when he notices us. "Are you making a play for my girlfriend, Dad?"

Carrick shakes his head. "I guess next time I'll need to be more discreet."

The comment earns him a frown from Christian. Really Christian? You're jealous of your own father?

I smile and announce loudly, "So who wants me to bury him in the ground?"

Elliot snickers. "You play foosball?"

"Of course," I say indignantly. "Doesn't everyone?"

He points to the other end of the table. "Let's go. Best three out of four. Hop to it, lady."

I win the first round, Elliot the second. I'm playing the third as if my life depends on it and finally I beat him. Christian laughs and slips his arm around my waist. "Beaten by a girl."

I turn and give Christian the most filthy look I could muster. "Do you think that was smart?"

He releases me and puts his hands up in defense. "No. No, it was not smart at all. I take it back, baby. Elliot's lucky he held his own with you. You're an ace foosball player, baby."

Kate giggles. "Somebody's p-whipped."

"No kidding," Elliot mutters under his breath.

"Yeah, Kate. Cut him some slack," Christian counters.

Mia comes flouncing down the stairs, interrupting their sniping. "Char had to leave—early morning tomorrow—and Toni left with her. Christian, I think you broke her heart tonight, killed all her dreams of marrying you."

The left brow went up. "Why? Toni knows we're just friends. She's got to by now. I've been telling her for, like, ten years."

"Yeah, well hope springs eternal and shit. Who's playing me?"

"I will," Kate says. "Ana and Christian have kindly agreed to go get us some drinks. Right guys?"

I smirk and nod. "Right." I turn to Christian. "Coming?"

Two hours of foosball later, we're finally back in the car, driving to Christian's house. We're both quiet, listening to the supremely good Bose stereo system when Amy Winehouse comes on, singing I'm No Good. I can't resist opening up and singing along and Christian gives me a sidelong glance. When the song is over, he lowers the volume. "So, did you have a good time today?"

I reach over to push a wayward lock of hair off his face. "Yes, I did. Very good time. Except for the beginning with Antonia."

"Were you actually jealous?" He's looking at me incredulously. "I thought you were playing with her."

I say nothing.

"You have no reason to be, Ana. I only have eyes for you."

"Answer two questions for me, Christian. Well, question two is contingent on the answer of question one being affirmative but I'll say two questions to be safe so—"

"Ana! Just spit it out."

"One: did you ever sleep with our friend Toni?"

He won't take his eyes off the road and I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I clear my throat. "I'll take that to be a yes then."

"Ana, I was seventeen," he answers softly. "I was a walking hard-on and would fuck anything I could get my hands on. She was fifteen but she looked much older. It was only just the one time, about a year after she and my sister became friends."

"So then you never took her into your dungeon."

His head whips over to glance at me. "No! Of course not. No one in my family has any idea of that. You didn't say anything to my father, did you?"

"No, Christian, of course I didn't."

"What did he say to you?"

Sighing, I tell him, "He just wanted me to know that he and your mom think we're good together and he asked me to have patience with you."

"Patience? With what?"

I shrug. "I guess he thinks—and rightly so—that you caused our break-up." I stick my tongue out at him.

He gives me a tiny smile. "Ana, I have a checkered past. I've been with a lot of women and we're bound to run into them on occasion. I'm thrilled that your past is very limited, and especially that none were lovers. For me, well, there were a lot."

He reaches across the console to grasp my hand. "What's important is now and the future—not what came before. You, Ana, you are my present and my future. I've been trying to work through my insecurities in order to have a meaningful relationship with you. You're the one I want."

"For now," I whisper, almost hoping he didn't hear me. But he did.

"Not just for now. My feelings for you run deeper than they did for any girl who came before. You're going to have to trust me on that."

I stare through the windshield at the dark road. There are no streetlights so the only light comes from our car and the reflected light of them moon on the wet asphalt, creating a glistening effect. It is pretty. The car is silent for a few minutes before I speak again.

"Will you ever take me into your dungeon and show me just what it's all about?"

"Is that really what you want?"

"I need to know... to understand. Perhaps I can watch you…"

"Watch me? With another woman?" He's incredulous.

My face is on fire with embarrassment. "Is it always sexual?"

He doesn't answer right away; instead, he keeps alternating his gaze from the road to me, his eyes searching my face, for what I don't know. After a few moments' pause, he says, "Not always, no… but it's always sensual. Wouldn't that bother you? I'd have to touch her."

I press my lips together, trying to keep strong. "Yes, it would bother me tremendously. But this is a big part of you… your sexuality. I need to understand it."

"What's to understand, Ana? It turns me on to dominate a woman. No, let me rephrase that: it turns me on to dominate a sexual partner. It's not women, per se, that I need to subjugate, you understand. For example, I would never want to treat my female staff in such a way."

"So only women you're involved with, then?"

"Yes but… I'm not explaining it well. It's purely a sexual thing for me. I don't have a need to keep a woman down. I just get turned on to have her at my mercy in a sexual context."

I am trying to wrap my head around this. I suppose it's like a fetish or something. Then I think of his relationship with his biological mother. He had no control over any aspect of that relationship. This kind of sexual behavior restores some control to him, at least a pretense of it. Perhaps that's what he gets out of it. Of course it could also be he's a misogynist who likes to whip women. But I don't think so.

"Well, I think either you're going to have to show me using me, or show me using someone else. I need to see it to understand."

He keeps looking ahead, through the windshield, without answering. After a few minutes my hand reaches for the volume on the stereo. His hand arrests mine in mid-air, grasping it tightly as he brings it to his lips, and kisses it softly.

A few minutes later he swings the car into his underground garage, waves to the attendant, and neatly parks. He helps me out and we walk to the elevator. As soon as the doors swish closed, he looks at me—long and hard, his eyes burning, with what I don't yet know. I gaze back at him, ready to meet or counter whatever he sends my way.

"Fine," he says, just before he launches himself at me, his lips devouring mine as his hips hump his erection into my belly, letting me know how much he is thinking of me.

"Fine?" I ask, confused.

"Yes, fine," he growls, his hand fisted in my hair pinning me in place. "I'll take you into my dungeon and show you everything."