Fifty Shades of Grey Read Online Free PDF Page B

literature, mainly.”
    He rubs his chin with his long index finger and thumb as he contemplates my answer. Or perhaps he’s just very bored and trying to hide it.
    “Anything else you need?” I have to get off this subject—those fingers on that face are beguiling.
    “I don’t know. What else would you recommend?”
    What would I recommend? I don’t even know what you’re doing.
    “For a do-it-yourselfer?”
    He nods, his eyes alive with wicked humor. I flush, and my gaze strays to his snug jeans.
    “Coveralls,” I reply, and I know I’m no longer screening what’s coming out of my mouth.
    He raises an eyebrow, amused yet again.
    “You wouldn’t want to ruin your clothing.” I gesture vaguely in the direction of his jeans.
    “I could always take them off.” He smirks.
    “Um.” I feel the color in my cheeks rising again. I must be the color of
The Communist Manifesto. Stop talking. Stop talking NOW
.
    “I’ll take some coveralls. Heaven forbid I should ruin any clothing,” he says dryly.
    I try to dismiss the unwelcome image of him without jeans.
    “Do you need anything else?” I squeak as I hand him the blue coveralls.
    He ignores my inquiry.
    “How’s the article coming along?”
    He’s finally asked me an easy question, away from all the innuendo and the confusing double-talk … a question I can answer. I grasp it tightly with two hands as if it were a life raft, and I go for honesty.
    “I’m not writing it, Katherine is. Miss Kavanagh. My roommate, she’s the writer. She’s very happy with it. She’s the editor of the newspaper, and she was devastated that she couldn’t do the interview in person.” I feel like I’ve come up for air—at last, a normal topic of conversation. “Her only concern is that she doesn’t have any original photographs of you.”
    “What sort of photographs does she want?”
    Okay. I hadn’t factored in this response. I shake my head, because I just don’t know.
    “Well, I’m around. Tomorrow, perhaps …”
    “You’d be willing to do a photo shoot?” My voice is squeaky again. Kate will be in seventh heaven if I can pull this off.
And you might see him again tomorrow
, that dark place at the base of my brain whispers seductively at me. I dismiss the thought—of all the silly, ridiculous …
    “Kate will be delighted—if we can find a photographer.” I’m so pleased, I smile at him broadly. His lips part, like he’s taking a sharp intake of breath, and he blinks. For a fraction of a second, he looks lost somehow, and the Earth shifts slightly on its axis, the tectonic plates sliding into a new position.
    Oh my. Christian Grey’s lost look
.
    “Let me know about tomorrow.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his wallet. “My card. It has my cell number on it. You’ll need to call before ten in the morning.”
    “Okay.” I grin up at him. Kate is going to be thrilled.
    “Ana!”
    Paul has materialized at the other end of the aisle. He’s Mr. Clayton’s youngest brother. I’d heard he was home from Princeton, but I wasn’t expecting to see him today.
    “Er, excuse me for a moment, Mr. Grey.” Grey frowns as I turn away from him.
    Paul has always been a buddy, and in this strange moment that I’m having with the rich, powerful, awesomely off-the-charts attractive control freak Grey, it’s great to talk to someone who’s normal. Paul hugs me hard, taking me by surprise.
    “Ana, hi, it’s so good to see you!” he gushes.
    “Hello, Paul, how are you? You home for your brother’s birthday?”
    “Yep. You’re looking well, Ana, really well.” He grins as he examines me at arm’s length. Then he releases me but keeps a possessive arm draped over my shoulder. I shuffle from foot to foot, embarrassed. It’s good to see Paul, but he’s always been overfamiliar.
    When I glance up at Christian Grey, he’s watching us like a hawk, his eyes hooded and speculative, his mouth a hard, impassive line. He’s changed from the