142783.fb2 Fifty Shades. Freed - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 143

Fifty Shades. Freed - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 143

“You may not be happy about this baby. I’m not ecstatic, given the timing and your less-than-lukewarm reception to this new life, this flesh of your flesh.

But you can either do this with me, or I’ll do it on my own. The decision is yours.

“While you wallow in your pit of self-pity and self-loathing, I’m going to work. And when I return I’ll be moving my belongings to the room upstairs.” He blinks at me, shocked.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish getting dressed.” I am breathing hard.

Very slowly, Christian retreats one step, his demeanor hardening. “Is that what you want?” he whispers.

“I don’t know what I want any more.” My tone mirrors his, and it takes a monumental effort to feign disinterest while I casually dip the tips of my fingers into my moisturizer and smooth it gently over my face. I peer at myself in the mirror.

Blue eyes wide, face pale, but cheeks flushed. You’re doing great. Don’t back down now. Don’t back down now.

“You don’t want me?” he whispers.

Oh—no . . . oh no you don’t, Grey.

“I’m still here aren’t I?” I snap. Taking my mascara, I apply some first to my right eye.

“You’ve thought about leaving?” His words are barely audible.

“When one’s husband prefers the company of his ex-mistress, it’s usually not a good sign.” I pitch the disdain at just the right level, evading his question. Lip gloss now. I pout my shiny lips at the image in the mirror. Stay strong, Steele . . .

um—Grey. Holy fuck, I can’t even remember my name. I pick up my boots, stride over to the bed once more, and quickly put them on, tugging them up over my knees. Yep. I look hot just in underwear and boots. I know. Standing, I gaze dis-passionately at him. He blinks at me, and his eyes travel swiftly and greedily down my body.

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“I know what you’re doing here,” he murmurs, and his voice has acquired a warm, seductive edge.

“Do you?” And my voice cracks . No, Ana . . . hold on.

He swallows and takes a step forward. I step back and hold my hands up.

“Don’t even think about it, Grey,” I whisper menacingly.

“You’re my wife,” he says softly, threateningly.

“I’m the pregnant woman you abandoned yesterday, and if you touch me I will scream the place down.”

His eyebrows rise in disbelief. “You’d scream?”

“Bloody murder.” I narrow my eyes.

“No one would hear you,” he murmurs, his gaze intense, and briefly I’m reminded of our morning in Aspen. No. No. No.

“Are you trying to frighten me?” I mutter breathless, deliberately trying to derail him.

It works. He stills and swallows. “That wasn’t my intention.” He frowns.

I can barely breathe. If he touches me, I will succumb. I know the power he wields over me and over my traitorous body. I know. I hang on to my anger.

“I had a drink with someone I used to be close to. We cleared the air. I am not going to see her again.”

“You sought her out?”

“Not at first. I tried to see Flynn. But I found myself at the salon.”

“And you expect me to believe you’re not going to see her again?” I cannot contain my fury as I hiss at him. “What about the next time I step across some imaginary line? This is the same argument we have over and over again. Like we’re on some Ixion’s wheel. If I fuck up again, are you going to run back to her?”

“I am not going to see her again,” he says with a chilling finality. “She finally understands how I feel.”

I blink at him. “What does that mean?”

He straightens and runs a hand through his hair, exasperated and angry and mute. I try a different tack.

“Why can you talk to her and not to me?”

“I was mad at you. Like I am now.”

“You don’t say!” I snap. “Well I am mad at you right now. Mad at you for being so cold and callous yesterday when I needed you. Mad at you for saying I 417/551

got knocked up deliberately, when I didn’t. Mad at you for betraying me.” I manage to suppress a sob. His mouth drops open in shock, and he closes his eyes briefly as if I’d slapped him. I swallow. Calm down, Anastasia.

“I should have kept better track of my shots. But I didn’t do it on purpose.

This pregnancy is a shock to me, too.” I mutter, trying for a modicum of civility.

“It could be that the shot failed.”

He glares at me, silent.

“You really fucked up yesterday,” I whisper, my anger boiling over. “I’ve had a lot to deal with over the last few weeks.”

“You really fucked up three or four weeks ago. Or whenever you forgot your shot.”

“Well, God forbid I should be perfect like you!” Oh stop, stop, stop. We stand glowering at each other.

“This is quite a performance, Mrs. Grey,” he whispers.

“Well, I’m glad that even knocked up I’m entertaining.” He stares at me blankly. “I need a shower,” he murmurs.

“And I’ve provided enough of a floor show.”

“It’s a mighty fine floor show,” he whispers. He steps forward, and I step back again.

“Don’t.”

“I hate that you won’t let me touch you.”