Freed
Page 79
There’s a slight pause and a small gasp before she replies, “Yes, sir.”
“And don’t call me. At all.”
“Er…sure. I mean, yes.”
I laugh. “Thank you. Tell Ros, too. Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow.”
She laughs. “Will do, Mr. Grey. Enjoy your day.” That’s two of us in a good mood.
Ana is dozing when I bring in her tray—the sheet loosely wrapped around her body, so I’m treated to the spectacular view that is my wife. Her hair is tousled from our earlier lovemaking and spreads across the pillows in a lush sprawl. She has one arm raised over her head, one breast and one shapely leg partly exposed. The morning light caresses her body, as if she’s been captured by a Grand Master himself. A Titian, or a Velázquez maybe.
Aphrodite.
My goddess.
She’s lost weight since Ted’s birth, and I know she wants to lose more, but to me, she’s as lovely as ever.
The rattle of our coffee cups rouses her, and she rewards me with a breathtaking smile. “Breakfast in bed? You really are spoiling me.”
I place the tray on the bed and take my place beside her.
“A feast!” She claps her hand. “I’m famished!” She tucks into her pancakes and bacon.
“You’ll have to thank Mrs. Jones for this. I can’t take any credit.”
“I will,” she mumbles, mouth full.
We eat in a companionable silence, enjoying the nearness of each other.
It’s a curious feeling.
This utter contentment.
I’ve only ever felt it with Ana.
And I allow myself a moment to reflect on my extraordinary good fortune.
I have a loving, smart, gorgeous wife.
A beautiful son, who is at present being entertained by Hope.
My business is in good hands. All the companies we’ve bought over the past few years are highly profitable. The solar tablet is a huge success, and we’re creating new technology around it, specifically for the developing world.
Sitting here, with my wife, eating pancakes, is about as good as it gets.
Once I finish, I put my plate down. “I have something for you, which I can take credit for.” From beside the bed, I hold up the gift-wrapped package.
“Oh!” Ana grabs a napkin and wipes her hands while I place her empty plate on the tray and push it out of the way.
“Here.”
She gives me a quizzical look as I hand her the broad, heavy, oblong package.
“It’s our paper anniversary. That’s your only clue.”
She grins and starts carefully unwrapping the paper, trying not to tear it. Inside is a large leather binder. Ana bites her lip as she unlatches the strap holding it shut and lifts the cover. She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. Beneath the cover is a black-and-white still of Ana and Ted: she’s smiling down at him, and he’s gazing up at her in adoration. The light is perfect, illuminating both of them in a warm, loving glow. I took it a couple of weeks ago, specifically for this series of ledger-sized prints, and it reminds me of the Virgin in the small shrine in St. James’s cathedral in Seattle. “This is lovely,” Ana breathes, her voice ringing with awe.
I’m proud of these stills. My intention is to hang them in place of some of the Madonnas in the foyer. In the next one, she’s holding Ted and looking at me, her eyes alight with amusement, and something a little darker…something for me. I love this picture.
There are four prints with Ana and Teddy—and then the last one.
She gasps again. It’s me and Ted, in a selfie. He’s in my arms, all dimples and baby fat, curled against my naked chest, fast asleep while I gaze into the camera. “Oh, Christian, this is fabulous. I love it.” Ana turns to me, tears in her eyes. “My two favorite men, in one exquisite capture.”
“They both love you, very much.”
“And I love you!” She closes the book and sets it aside carefully and pounces on me, rattling the cups and plates. “You are the three wishes from Aladdin’s lamp, the state lottery, and the cure for cancer rolled into one!”
I laugh and brush my fingers down her cheek. “No, Ana. You are.”
Acknowledgments
Thanks to:
Dominique Raccah and all the dedicated team at Sourcebooks, for welcoming me into my new home with such warmth and enthusiasm, and for doing such a fabulous job on this book.
My editor, Anne Messitte, for once more steering me with such grace through the mayhem that is Christian Grey.
Kathleen Blandino, for the beta read and for wrangling my website. Ruth Clampett, for the beta read and for your gracious, constant encouragement. Debra Anastasia, for the writing sprints and words of encouragement—we got there in the end! Crissy Maier, for advice on police procedure. And Amy Brosey for all her hard work on the manuscript.
Becca, Bee, Belinda, Britt, Jada, Jill, Kellie, Kelly, Leis, Liz, Nora, Rachel, QT, and Taylor—ladies, you are all amazing and such a safe place. Thank you also for the Americanisms. You constantly remind me that we belong to four great nations divided by a common language. Who knew that a buttonhole is called a boutonnière?
Vanessa, Emma, Zoya, Crissy—for being such wonderful friends and social media advocates.
To all the wonderfully supportive book bloggers out there, of which there are too many to mention! I see you and thank you for all that you do for me and the author community.
Philippa and all the social media allies who amplify and support. Thank you so much.
The Bunker 3.0 ladies, you rock.
And to all my book-world friends for being a constant source of inspiration and support. You know who you are; I only hope that we can get to see each other sometime soon.
Julie McQueen, for all the off-site help and all that you do for me and mine.
Val Hoskins. My agent. My friend. You are a wonderful woman to have in my corner. Thank you for everything.
Niall Leonard, thank you for the initial edit, cups of tea, fud, steadfast support, and most of all your love.
And to my two beautiful boys—my love for you overwhelms me sometimes. You are my joy. Thank you for being such wonderful, supportive young men. (And, Minor, thank you for all the help on the poker game!)
And to my readers, thank you for waiting.
This book took much longer than I intended, but I hope you enjoyed it.
It was for you.
Thank you for all that you’ve done for me.
About E L James
E L James is an incurable romantic and a self-confessed fangirl. After twenty-five years of working in television, she decided to pursue a childhood dream and write stories that readers could take to their hearts. The result was the controversial and sensuous romance Fifty Shades of Grey and its two sequels, Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed. In 2015, she published the #1 bestseller Grey, the story of Fifty Shades of Grey from the perspective of Christian Grey, and in 2017, the chart-topping Darker, the second part of the Fifty Shades story from Christian’s point of view. She followed with the #1 New York Times bestseller The Mister in 2019. Her books have been published in fifty languages and have sold more than 165 million copies worldwide.
E L James has been recognized as one of Time magazine’s Most Influential People in the World and Publishers Weekly’s Person of the Year. Fifty Shades of Grey stayed on the New York Times bestseller list for 133 consecutive weeks. Fifty Shades Freed won the Goodreads Choice Award (2012), and Fifty Shades of Grey was selected as one of the 100 Great Reads, as voted by readers, in PBS’s The Great American Read (2018). Darker was longlisted for the 2019 International DUBLIN Literary Award.
She was a producer on each of the three Fifty Shades movies, which made more than a billion dollars at the box office. The third installment, Fifty Shades Freed, won the People’s Choice Award for Drama in 20
18. E L James is blessed with two wonderful sons and lives with her husband, the novelist and screenwriter Niall Leonard, and their West Highland terriers in the leafy suburbs of West London.
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