Ana shakes her head, avoiding eye contact.

Is she feeling shy all of a sudden?

“Tell me,” I coax, as I pour bath oil into the running water.

Her cheeks develop a rosy flush. “I just feel better.”

“Yes, you’ve been in a strange mood today, Mrs. Grey.” I embrace her. “I know you’re worrying about these recent events. I’m sorry you’re caught up in them. I don’t know if it’s a vendetta, an ex-employee, or a business rival. If anything were to happen to you because of me—” The horrific image, of her lying in place of the crack whore, haunts me.

Stop, Grey. Stop.

She hugs me. “What if something happens to you, Christian?” She sounds bleak.

“We’ll figure this out. Now let’s get you out of this shirt and into this bath.”

“Shouldn’t you talk to Sawyer?”

“He can wait.” My tone is clipped; I have a few choice words for him.

I slip my shirt off Ana.

Shit. The marks I left on her body are still there. Faded. But still present, reminding me that I’m an asshole.

“I wonder if Ryan has caught up with the Dodge?” Ana says, and I know she’s ignoring my reaction.

“We’ll see, after this bath. Get in.” I offer her my hand, and she steps into the foam-filled tub. Gingerly, she sits down.

“Ow.” She winces as her ass hits the hot water.

“Easy, baby,” I whisper, but she smiles when she settles, submerged in the water. I strip out of my jeans and join her, sinking down behind her and gathering her to my chest.

Slowly I let myself relax.

Be in the moment, Grey.

That was really something.

Ana did so well. I nuzzle her hair and marvel at how easy it is to just be in her company. I don’t have to talk; she doesn’t have to talk. We can just lie and unwind in a bath together.

I close my eyes and reflect on the day.

What a crazy end to our honeymoon.

A car chase, which Ana handled brilliantly, like a pro.

I run the end of her braid through my fingers, absently.

And she let me have fun in the playroom, doing something I’ve wanted to do forever, and she’s never done before.

My girl. My beautiful girl.

A few moments later, I remember that Gia Matteo will be joining us tomorrow evening. I break the comfortable silence between us. “We need to go over the plans for the new house. Later this evening?”

“Sure,” Ana responds, and she sounds resigned. “I must get my things ready for work,” she adds.

Her braid slips through my fingers. “You know you don’t have to go back to work.”

Ana’s shoulders tense against me. “Christian, we’ve been through this. Please don’t resurrect that argument.”

Okay. I gently tug her braid, slanting her face toward me. “Just saying.” I brush my lips over hers.

Leaving Ana to soak a little longer in the bath, I get dressed and wander through to my study for Sawyer’s debrief. Mrs. Jones is in the kitchen.

“Evening, Gail.”

“Mr. Grey. Welcome home, and congratulations once again.”

“Thank you. Your sister okay?”

“All good, sir. Would you like anything?”

“No, thanks. I have some work to do.”

“Mrs. Grey?”

I grin. “She’s in the bath.”

Gail smiles and nods. “I’ll ask her when she’s out, sir.”

At my desk, I check my e-mails. Then buzz Sawyer. A moment later there’s a brisk knock at my door.

“Come in.”

Sawyer enters and stands before me, looking cool, calm, and professional in his suit and tie. His demeanor makes me so mad. Slowly, I get up from my desk and, placing both hands on it, lean toward him. “Where the fuck were you?” I shout.

He takes a small step back, surprised by my outburst.

“What the hell were you doing that you weren’t ready to leave when we were?” I fold my arms, keeping a rein on my temper.

“Mr. Grey.” He holds up his hands. “We were patrolling the grounds, like you asked us to do. And we didn’t know you were leaving.”

Oh.

“Also,” he adds, getting into his stride, “I’d noticed the unsub. It arrived while we were out patrolling and I was going to investigate, when you came out of the house.”

Ah.

I sigh, somewhat mollified. “I see. Okay.” I should have told them we were leaving. And I know if Taylor had been with us, he would have left his colleague in the car.

“And Mrs. Grey set off at one hell of a pace.” He raises a disapproving eyebrow.

I want to laugh at his response. I feel his pain, but I remain impassive. “She did,” I admit. “Though you should have caught up. You’re both trained in defensive driving.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes, Mr. Grey.” He looks a little contrite. “Sir,” he says. “The unsub didn’t follow us. He or she arrived shortly before you were leaving. I logged the exact time I noticed the car. It was 14:53 and they did not exit the vehicle. They knew where you were.”

I pale. “What does that mean?”

“That someone could be watching your parents’ house, sir. Or watching us here. Though I think we would have noticed if we were followed to Bellevue.”

“Shit.”