Chapter 1 – To Glorious New Beginnings

(THE PRESENT)

I'm overwhelmed.

Ana's eyes proceed to ping-pong from ceiling to wall, and then all around her entire sphere. She feels completely out of her league.

This is way too fancy for my taste.

She's unable to comprehend the super-extravagance of her present surroundings. The grand sweeping crystal chandeliers. The massive floor-to-ceiling windows spotlighting Seattle's famous night-illuminated skyline. It's all overwhelming to her. Even the very air seeping through the vents permeate excessive style and elegance.

"Do you care for champagne?"

She's startled by the velvety interruption coming from across the table. He belongs in a place like this, she thinks in the moment.

"Sure," she murmurs as their waitress approaches.

She's overwhelmed by her entire surroundings. The ambient classical piano plays as the dining room floor moves at a crawl, taking one hour to complete a full revolution. Every person working doesn't have a single hair out of place, nor a wrinkle in their uniform. Their ultra-pressed attire matches their pressed-on superior-customer-service demeanor; from the tower's doorman, to the restaurant's greeter and wait staff.

They're all zombies, Ana concludes. Well… except for this one.

"The 2008 Dom Perignon?" the young blonde waitress wearing a tuxedo without the jacket echoes. Blushing way more than anyone else, she's standing a little too close to Ana's date for anyone's comfort. The beautiful man in the suit who's the object of many affections nods and hands the drink menu off to the admirer.

"Excellent choice, sir," she replies. "I'll bring it right away along with your salads and hot bread." The waitress then turns to Ana who is now engaging in her own drink menu for the first time. "Would you like a cocktail?"

"Oh – sorry – I'm – looking," she startles the second she realizes the attention has shifted away from her date to her.

"Are you sure you're good with champagne?" the handsome gentleman checks once more, this time with a furrowed brow and a pursed lip.

As Ana's nerves kick into overdrive, it dawns on her that he remains elegant regardless of what he says or does. Even now, he comes across as very straight-laced and clean cut. He's definitely the black sheep of the family, she cogitates. On the flip side, she doesn't think that he possesses a single fun bone in his deliciously sculpted body. Sure, he has made her laugh many times before in the past, but it didn't seem intentional on his part. He's the very essence of deadpan. If she were to match up the words chill or humorous with a real live person, this man would be dead last to come to mind.

She's accustomed to laughing and doling out quips over a good meal; but tonight, she has yet to let out a genuine chuckle. Instead of breathing easy, she feels as if she's shuffling on pins and needles. If it were anyone else other than him, they'd be the fun, rowdy table making a scene in the midst of the civilized folk. Ana knew from the very start that he was incapable of being as lively as the last guy that she went out on a date with. Regardless, she was hoping to be wrong. Yet so far, her initial expectations of how the night would pan out hold true.

What in the world was I thinking when I agreed to this?
He's definitely the quieter, reflective, more mysterious… serious Grey.

But still, he's sexy as sin.

Virgin my ass.

The rogue ideation almost makes Ana choke on her own saliva.

"Sure," she finally replies to him in an awkward gasp. She then looks up at the waitress. "I'm only browsing," she clarifies. "The champagne is fine."

"Very well," the waitress beams. "I'll bring it right over." She then parts from them for the time being.

"Are you okay?" he asks in a tone that implies that he's humored by Ana's odd behavior.

She remains embarrassed over her sudden wayward thoughts. Before tonight, she'd never reflected in depth on how drop-dead gorgeous he was. Until now, she'd often bring her stray thoughts to an immediate halt before they took shape. Hell, even a blind person couldn't deny his male model good looks, so why had she for so long? Ana could no longer ignore the way his copper-toned hair remained in disarray, yet still managed to be a masterpiece on him. His impeccable bone structure. The manner in which his gray eyes managed to mesmerize and draw in whomever gazed into them.

My God.

If she's being honest with herself, she'd never actually denied any of his steamy attributes. But during the sum total of the time that she's known him, she'd always had some manner of impenetrable shield up. Then after all hell had broken loose, her feelings flipped in an instant. The barrier that once stood thick and tall was now severed beyond repair.

"What about Christian?"

When those very words trampled out of his own mother, Ana started to view him through a brand-new lens. But that didn't stop her from feeling extreme guilt for even entertaining the notion of going out with him.

Now here we are.

Ana's blue irises lower, then goes over to the table and up before it meets a kind gray gaze. As their eyes connect, time stands still. She's paralyzed. If she could break away in that moment, she would. And as his stare deepens, she senses a feeling of warmth brushing across the nape of her hair draped neck.

Don't you dare blush Steele.

She finally forces her eyes to fall down to the drink menu in front of her, feigning to explore the open pages.

He looks hella sexy in a three-piece suit. I've never seen him wear one before, she thinks to herself. Even the fine threads shimmer like gold in the muted atmospheric lighting.

Ana couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. When she first saw him earlier that night, she regretted wearing the lacy black cocktail dress. But when he saw her, his eyes opened wide and he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist. Once he whispered in her ear that she looked very beautiful, her insecurities went away.

Until he brought her here.

"Holy crap," Ana gasps while pointing down at the menu. "I hope you ordered the glass and not the bottle." She sighs. "Although, I don't see the prices for individual glasses…"

"They don't offer it by the glass," he interrupts. She looks up and catches him smirking. "Don't worry about it. I've got it."

"That's a two-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne, Christian," she gasps.

His steely gray gaze almost unnerves her. "I never understood why they advertise the drink prices. Look at your dinner menu," he says with a single subtle head nod towards the larger hardbound bifold to Ana's right.

She reaches for it, opens it, and immediately starts to scan the pages. The skin creases between her eyes. "Market value. That's all it says for almost everything in here."

"Exactly," he says, resting his case.

Ana's head immediately shoots up and her gaze rejoins his. "How much is all this?"

Christian's expression hardens. "I told you earlier, don't worry about it. I asked you out."

Her neck jerks back a little. "True... but not entirely true," she says, fighting back a grin. It's contagious.

"No, it's entirely true. I wanted to take you out. I've wanted to take you out for a very long time."

As that same warmth that popped up in the back of her neck began to spread across her cheeks, her head drops once more.

"You know," he starts, "I've never pegged you for the shy type in all the time that I've known you. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you blush like this."

His words along with his sultry grin causes her skin to turn an even darker shade of pink. She's out of her element in the presence of this extraordinary man. This feeling is as foreign to her as it is for him to witness. No one has ever made her feel this shy. She's perplexed that a guy that she's known for two years and has known about for even longer could make her feel this way.

Ana remains silent, refusing to acknowledge the electric feel in the pit of her stomach. Meanwhile, all he can do is stare at her; his lips pressed together in amusement. He's doing a piss poor job at masking the quiver right at the top right edge of his mouth. He's itching to smile even more, but present circumstances prevent him from doing so. From the first moment he met her, Ana's very impression occupied a certain space deep down inside of him. It's an area that he refused to allow to see the light of day for a long time. That very sacred place would later uproot all on its own at the turn of the year.

He could no longer hide the way he felt about her.

Christian blinks out of his trance when he notices a young-looking man joining them. With a white linen draped across his shoulder, he pops the cork and pours the champagne into two flutes. Ana retrains her gaze at her surroundings. It's then when she notices that they've moved a quarter of the way around the restaurant. It amuses her how much things change when she's not paying attention. The metaphor isn't lost on her. The waiter twists the bottle of expensive champagne back into the bucket of ice, now placed at the table. Ana finally speaks up.

"I didn't know that this place even existed," she sighs in wonder.

"Where are some of the places you've eaten?" he inquires. "Besides the normal spots."

She tilts her head up sideways and thinks hard. "I've been to Canlis... once. El Gaucho."

"With Elliot?" He says the name as if it tastes bitter rolling off the tongue. She nods, and he stiffens before flicking the stem of his flute with his finger.

Ana's eyes shift back to her menu. "He'd never bring me here. No prices on the menu."

"He's not a member here. He's also rather cheap." In more ways than one, he broods.

Cheap? Ana snorts. "Like you, he doesn't run a billion-dollar global enterprise, so he's very careful how he spends his money." His responding stare operates like a gravitational pull as she lifts her eyes to meet his. The voltage residing in her gut charges up all over again.

"Believe it or not, I am also very careful with my money. In general, I realize that people invest in the things that matter most to them; myself included."

His words coupled with his heated gaze cause her breath to catch right in the center of her throat. Flustered, she looks down at the table once more.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. He immediately thinks that he offended her, but that isn't the true reason why she looked away.

Ana's stunned by the apology. Looking back up at him, she says, "No need. You're spot on." The charge in her belly shuffles into an aching sting. She can't help but remember the time when she found a recent receipt for Altura in her then boyfriend's jeans pocket. He told her to look there for a cash tip for the pizza delivery guy, forgetting what else he'd stuffed in there. She recalls the pain of eyeing "Party of 2" in print, along with two entrees with a timestamp of 8:30 at night on Valentine's Day.

That was our night, Elliot.

Whoever his romantic company was, she had the gall to order three fourteen-dollar Mai Tais. He wouldn't have allowed Ana to do that on his dime. Instead, he'd bitch about her not getting the draft special like him. As a result of his relentless penny pinching, Ana paid for her own cocktails whenever they went out.

"Can we make a pact tonight?"

Christian's silky voice immediately snatches her from out the depths of her despair. She watches as he lifts up his flute and gestures it towards her. Her gaze narrows. "What kind of pact?"

"Let's not bring him up ever again." He shifts his glass forward to propose a toast. "To leaving the past behind. And to glorious new beginnings."

As a warm smile shifts to his lips, she is mesmerized. Inspired, she follows suit and nods before they clink together to seal their good fortune. In the blink of an eye, Christian's earlier innocent look turns smoldering. It takes her by complete surprise. He then leans forward as if to share a secret.

"And if you allow me tonight, I promise you... you'll forget his name. I want to fuck away the very memory of him, Anastasia," he whispers.

Ana's glass nearly falls to the table as the air rushes out of her body.

(THE PAST – 32 Months Ago)

Ana Steele accelerated the ranks of an insurance giant in just thirteen months. Mylegent is located in the heart of downtown Seattle. She landed there six weeks after moving to the city. At the time, Ana told herself that the gig would only be temporary. Ana had her heart set on something more after graduating college. But when the phone calls, emails, and interviews didn't go her way, she decided to make herself comfortable at Mylegent. She'd be there a while longer, striving to be the very best claims agent possible.

Although her heart's set on books and working in publishing, she appreciated her job. If anything, working in insurance taught her a lot about herself. Usually when her phone rings, its bad news. The most fulfilling part of her job is that final phone call before a claim closes. Ana's superior customer service and her willingness to go above and beyond to get the job done hadn't gone unnoticed. Soon, she was being groomed to become a claims manager in record time. For now, she'd continue putting her best foot forward, giving her clients exactly what they needed until her promotion became etched in stone.

"No... Mrs. Millard, you don't have to do that," Ana chuckles over her wireless headset. She readjusts her posture in the swivel chair. Tammy Schmidt, her friend and next-door cubical neighbor snorts at the exchange.

"I've never had a claim closed this fast," the elderly woman raved over the phone. "My goodness. I certainly owe you a great deal, Ana."

"Just doing my job," Ana peps.

"And you do it so well. Please... let me send you my famous oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Where's your call center located anyway?"

"We're in Seattle."

"Darn. I'm in Tampa."

"Yes, you are," Ana giggles. "So, no need to send those cookies. But if you insist, you can send me the recipe."

"Sorry. Can't do that," Mrs. Millard quickly refuses. "It's a secret family formula. That's why I need to ship them to you. Look, my youngest runs a fancy office. Perhaps I can drop them off at his place of business and have his secretary ship them via FedEx."

Ana sighs. "Mrs. Millard, I'm serious. Please don't trouble yourself." And please lady, don't wreck another auto and cause more property damage due to your deteriorating driving skills.

"Really, it's no trouble at all. I think I have your address from a past email. I'll whip up a batch and send them your way. Sweetheart, you are truly my guardian angel."

She sighs again. "Thank you. You're too kind. Make sure you stay safe."

"You betcha," she says with spark. "I'll check in with you to see how you enjoyed the cookies – and you will."

Ana shakes her head knowing that there's nothing else she can say to change the kind woman's mind. The very the last thing Ana wants to do is offend a grateful client.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Mrs. Millard."

"You do the same, Ana. Bye-bye!"

As soon as the call ends, Ana's forearm and head flops onto her desk's surface. After a few beats, she hears a chair rolling in her direction before feeling a pair of firm hands kneading her shoulders. Ana relaxes right away at her friend's expert touch. Whoa, does she do this for Marty at home? If so, he's got it made.

"Another satisfied customer wanting to shower you with gifts?" Tammy says in humor. "What's it this time? Another Frito pie?"

"Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies," Ana moans.

"Oh, yay! Now that I'll partake in. Even though I shouldn't."

Ana rises to sit erect and Tammy's hands fall. Ana sighs in disappointment over the massage's end, but she doesn't speak out. Tammy, who's also a senior claims agent, has been with the company four years longer than Ana. The shapely petite blonde beauty with the stylish pixie hairdo recently wedded her longtime boyfriend early this past summer. She often scolds her overly-ambitious friend over how fast she's climbing the corporate ladder due to her lack of a social life. Tammy has even tried to set Ana up with one of her husband's friends, which Ana put a stop to.

"If I get another 'thank you' gift box, I'm never going to drop these extra five pounds," Ana groans.

Tammy rolls backwards in her seat to get a better look. She searches Ana up and down with obvious exaggeration.

"Five pounds? Where?"

"It's there – trust me. Maybe it's all in my butt, but it's there."

Tammy rolls her eyes. "Well, if that's the case, that's freaking fantastic. You know butts are all the rage these days. You'll be hard pressed to find a bevy of boob men nowadays. I think even Hooters' stock is suffering. That's what Marty told me not too long ago, anyways," she shrugs.

"Well, I guess I'm in luck then," Ana quips just before her phone rings.

Another one? – Tammy mimes in disappointment. She counted on more time to shoot the breeze with her friend, but Ana's been on back to back calls for most of the day. Ana shrugs in response before turning to her screen to view the incoming caller's information.

"Hello, this is Ana Steele. Whom am I speaking with?"

The caller groans, "Elliot Grey."

Ana senses from the sound of his voice that she definitely has her work cut out for her. She has a feeling that this isn't going to be like any of the other lightweight, easygoing claims today.

"Can you please verify your current address and phone number please?"

He lets out a jagged sigh. "Don't you have it right in front of you?"

"I need to verify it for security purposes, Mr. Grey."

After another agitated sigh, he recites, "Grey Construction, four-four-eighty-four..."

As the caller continues to rattle off his information, Ana spots her boss, claims director Marsha Wyatt, peering around her desk. Ana places the caller on mute.

"Yes?"

Marsha peeps at Ana's screen. "Bill just routed that client over to you."

Ana's eyes open wide. Bill Marsden is the general manager of the entire claims group at Mylegent. Why would he personally see to it that this account came directly to me?

"Okay?" Ana pushes out with high uncertainty.

"As you know, corporate claims is tied up due to Hurricane Sandy. Elliot Grey is a VIP business client. His entire family is a big deal in this town. We want to give him the best and swiftest care possible."

This town? So, he's local, Ana thinks. The name Elliot Grey or the last name Grey meant nothing to her, but it apparently meant a great deal to Marsha, Bill, and the rest of the organization.

Ana flashes her boss a terrified gaze. "But I don't work business claims."

"We really need your help on this one, Ana. Please do Bill this one solid, and I promise it'll be the very last favor we ask before you're all set up in your own office with a shiny new title," Marsha pleads. Ana remains frazzled.

"Hello? Are you still there?" the impatient caller says in her ear.

Fine, Ana groans to herself. She nods at Marsha and her boss beams even wider at her, mouthing her many thank yous. Ana unmutes the call.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Grey. Yes – how can I help you today?"

"Well, um I just filed a police report on nine pickup trucks in my fleet that were vandalized overnight."

"Wow, I'm so sorry to hear that. Let me see if that report has been added to your file."

"It was just done," he says to her as if he were speaking to a novice.

"If the report was filed by the Seattle PD, we should have the preliminary electronic version." Ana taps a few keys. "Oh – here it is."

"You have it?" the caller says, surprised.

"Yes... I see information on the fleet of Chevy and Ford pickups." Ana continues to scroll down with her mouse. She gasps quietly at some of the images that begin to appear right before her very eyes. One image included a truck spray painted in black with the word Destruction over the word Construction where "Grey Construction" was once prevalent on the driver's side door. That was actually the nicest thing she read among the vandalized fleet. "Wow, this looks...", rather personal – Ana thinks to herself, but holds back on mentioning the last two words. Instead, she swallows and says, "I see some choice words spray painted on a few trucks."

"Assholes. Fuckers also threw bricks through some of the windows, too," he snaps. "Pardon my French."

Ana chuckles. "I understand why you're upset. Yep, I also see the damaged windshields. I see the dented hoods. Officer Pulaski's report appears to be very thorough. Normally we don't get excellent images like these until after we send our inspector to the site. Looks like the officer did most of the hard work for us. I also see in the report that the vandals wore masks and hats and are still on the loose."

The client sighs long and hard. "So, what happens next? I'm several trucks short and I have three critical deadlines that I need to meet. This will put me behind." Ana feels the agonizing frustration emitting from his very breath.

"Are the vehicles in question still parked in your fleet yard?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'll send a few tow trucks your way and have them repaired immediately. Is there a shop you prefer, or would you like me to recommend one?"

"Whichever can get the job done the fastest."

"Sure. I think I have the perfect shop for you. Let me give Frank over at Armotti Collision a call to see if he has enough bandwidth to take care of you. If not, maybe we'll give Frank some of your trucks and let our other partners at Clover Body Shop handle the rest."

"Clover's pretty good. I've had work done there before," the caller says, sounding a tad bit hopeful.

"I'm glad to hear it. I'll go ahead and get the process rolling. If you have any questions, you'll be receiving an email right after this call. Feel free to reply to that note, or simply give me a call on my direct line," Ana says.

"That's it?" Grey says, astonished.

"Yep," she chuckles. "That's all for now."

"Man... I was sweating bullets," he sighs. "Normally I have my assistant handle this, but she just resigned the other day."

"Goodness," Ana utters empathetically. "Well as you can see, working with us isn't very difficult."

"I swear, this is the easiest call I've made all day," he sighs in total relief. "What's your name again?"

"Ana. Ana Steele."

"Well Ana Steele, I hope you take real good care of me," he says, now speaking upbeat for the very first time.

"You can count on it. I'll be in touch, Mr. Grey."

"Elliot. Please," he insists. "We're working together now, right?"

She giggles. "Yes, we are. In fact, you're stuck with me until your claim is closed. I'll do my very best to make sure that happens sooner rather than later."

"Now, that's what I like to hear," he answers in a silky tone. Ana blinks, but quickly tosses away the unnerving feeling.

"Thanks so much for calling, Mr... Elliot," she quickly corrects herself. "Have a great day."

"You too, Ana."

...

(Five days later)

Doren Mitchell who resides in the next aisle of cubicles stops at Ana's desk and mouths – Can I have another one? Ana nods in silence as she listens intently to the client through her headset. She watches Doren and frowns as he takes two oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from the cellophane instead of one. Mrs. Millard's FedEx'ed savory treats are a big hit among the other sweet-toothed senior claims agents. They made it to Ana's desk first thing this morning. Immediately after taking her first bite, Ana sent the kind woman an email expressing her utmost gratitude, along with a fruitless plea for her family's secret recipe.

"You should've received a confirmation email yesterday with your reservation number for four construction pickup trucks at United Rentals," Ana speaks into the earpiece.

"You sure you sent an email?" Elliot Grey says with skepticism.

"I most certainly did," Ana smirks. "I can send it to you again if you'd like."

"Please?" he pleads, his tone of voice asking for forgiveness. "I've been a mess since the start of this whole ordeal. I don't know my nose from my... tailpipe... at the moment."

Startled by the unexpected choice of words, Ana sputters into laughter.

"I'm sorry," he sighs with a snort. "I have zero manners. That's clearly no reflection on my parents, who're actually living saints. I've actually turned out to be the exact opposite of how I was raised. In fact, my own dear mother doesn't even bother kissing this dirty mouth."

Ana giggles. "I appreciate your apt use of the word 'tailpipe' in place of a different word," she says with a lingering chuckle. "Way to keep it nice and clean. Very mom-friendly."

"You think so?" he hums.

Ana's eyelashes flutter at the sensual change of tone coming through her right ear, but she quickly brushes the feeling aside. "I just resent the email."

"Great. Thanks, Ana."

"Not a problem."

"Hey... where are you guys located anyway?"

"In Seattle. Like you," she smiles.

"No shit?"

Ana laughs once more.

"Sorry. My sailor mouth strikes again."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Were you in the navy?"

"Heck no," he chortles. "I only cuss like it."

Ana snickers with a closed mouth. "No worries, I'm a big girl. I've heard much worse in my line of work."

"Really," Elliot replies. "What brute would say such ugly things to a sweet, beyond helpful Miss Ana Steele? It is Miss, isn't it?"

Ana's internal defense mechanism immediate kicks into high gear.
Danger, Will Robinson! Relationships equal complicated; casual or otherwise.

"It is," she says, overly cautious.

"Yeah... Like I said, who'd ever use such foul language in the presence of a sweet, kind, most helpful young lady?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised," she remarks with the utmost honesty and humor.

"I see the email for the truck rentals. My guys sitting on their thumbs will be very happy to get back on the jobsite today."

"Glad to hear it. Let me know if you need anything else."

"I certainly will. Thanks again. You take care, Ana."

"You too, Elliot."

"Who the heck was that?" a voice calls out from her periphery. When the line clears, Ana quickly swivels her seat to her right in order to bring Tammy into full view.

"It's the 'high profile'," she sighs with expressive finger air quotes, "business client that Marsha and Marsden threw my way yesterday."

"You're dealing directly with the client and not his assistant?"

"Mm hmm. He's assistant-less at the moment."

"Elliot, huh?" Tammy hums scandalously with a teasing smirk.

Ana cringes. "Stop."

"Is he married?"

"Tammy," Ana sighs.

"What's his last name? Let me look him up."

"No. I'm just handling his claim since corporate claims is all tied up. When his trucks are all set in two to three weeks, I'm done. Then I'll be moving into my new office."

"An office without any windows. An office without me," Ana's best work friend pouts. Ana flashes her a pouty look right back.

"If all goes according to plan, I won't be in that closet of an office for very long."

"I believe it. You'll kick ass no matter where you end up," Tammy touts in highest praise.

"Thanks Tam."

"So, what's Elliot's last name?"

Ana's eyes narrow. "Stop it," she scolds.

"You can either tell me, or I can look him up in your call log. Your choice."

Ana's beyond exasperated. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"Yep," she says proudly. "Three... two..."

"It's Grey," Ana snaps before the end of the nerve-wracking blackmail countdown. Well pleased with herself, Tammy swivels around in her chair and starts to click her mouse and tap on her keyboard.

"He's probably closer to my dad's age," Ana agitatedly rattles off. Even though he sounds young. "Probably married with kids. Anyway, it doesn't matter because I'm not hooking up with a client." She definitively folds her arms.

"Hush," Tammy admonishes. "Is that Grey with an 'A' or an 'E'? I'm coming up empty on Google."

"Good," Ana stubbornly strikes.

"Grey Construction... in Seattle, right? That'll help narrow things down."

"Dammit, Tammy," Ana groans. She was beyond exhausted with her friend trying to set her up with every young and single Tom, Dick and Larry. The newly minted Mrs. Schmidt was of the firm belief that no attractive professional young lady should be without a man. Ironically Ana's best friend and longtime roommate Kate agreed with Tammy's sentiment.

"Got it!" Tammy sparks, while Ana agonizes. "It's an 'E'. And that's Elliot with one 'T', not two, like Elliott Bay. Holy shit," Tammy gasps in total awe and reverence. "He's a freaking hottie supreme."

There were only a few men who were crowned with the coveted title of Hottie Supreme in Tammy's dream book. Chris Hemsworth, Ryan Gosling, Brad Pitt... Oh, there was this past summer's mailroom college intern; a freshman. Ana referred to him as jailbait when he was being pushed down her throat as a potential suitor. And of course, Tammy's own husband earned the title many years ago, so it wasn't a label that Mrs. Schmidt tossed out into the universe halfheartedly. Ana knew this, yet she didn't waver over a certain client in her caseload.

"I don't care," Ana says while turning to her workstation, coincidently to make notes in Elliot's digital file.

"Jesus. He looks like a blond god. Holy crap... that body."

Ana tries hard to ignore her overzealous friend while hoping for a distraction to veer off the subject of Elliot Grey. Thankfully, Tammy gets a call and Ana smirks in vindication.

...

(Start of the following week)

Ana hits the ground running after spending a very chill weekend with her roommate and their friends. However, an otherwise mundane Monday quickly ignites the moment she gets a call from her favorite new VIP client. She proceeds to bring him up to speed on the status of his claim. By the time she's all done giving him the rundown, he's nothing short of amazed.

"You are so thorough. You think of things that I didn't necessarily think of... and I'm a pretty astute guy. I'm certain you have a rolodex full of clients who feel indebted to you," Elliot praises.

Ana can feel her cheeks beginning to blush. "Just doing my job."

"No Ana, you go above and beyond. Seriously," Elliot Grey raves through her earpiece. She blushes at the compliment. "You ordered a full workup on the rest of my fleet to ensure that nothing else was tampered with that night. Excellent call. Who could've guessed that while those three assholes were tearing up the outside of a few of trucks in view of the cameras, a fourth fuckhead was busy pouring water into fuel tanks of trucks we thought were untouched?"

"It was only a hunch," she says meekly.

"No, it was genius on your part. How did you guess? Even the veteran cops didn't catch that. What made you think of it? Man... what in the world did you do before coming to Mylegent?" he gushes in rapid fire. "Did you work in the FBI? Secret Service?"

Ana laughs. "You'd be surprised what comes across my desk on a regular basis. I've seen a lot of different situations in my line of work."

"I bet," Grey chuckles. "Hey... I know you have your fill of satisfied customers. What's the craziest thing a client has done for you as a result?"

A giggle escapes her lips as she thinks long and hard. "Well, just last week, a nice elderly lady insisted on sending me her 'famous' cookies. So famous, that she refused to send me her recipe. I'm sure she paid a pretty penny to FedEx them from Florida, even after I told her to spare herself the trouble."

"No shit?" Elliot replies, humored.

He uses that phrase a lot. She smiles at the thought.

"How were they?" he asks.

"I swear, they were the best cookies I've ever had. I feel bad for sharing them with my coworkers. They completely destroyed them," she groans lightheartedly.

"You've probably never had Cougar Mountain cookies before."

"Can't say that I have. But that nice lady's oatmeal chocolate chip cookies were ridiculously good."

"I doubt that they're as amazing as Cougar Mountain's. Where's your office exactly? You said last week that you're in Seattle."

"Yep. We're in the Rainier Tower."

"Seriously? And you've never had Cougar Mountain cookies? How long have you lived in Seattle?"

"For almost eighteen months. But I've lived here in Washington for most of my life.

"And you've never had Cougar Mountain cookies? Ana," he sighs with humor, "you don't know what you're missing. My absolute favorite are the chewy molasses and ginger cookies."

Ana knows that it's close to lunch time because her mouth is watering at the very mention of food. "That sounds fantastic."

"Trust me, it tastes even better than it sounds," he croons.

The phrase is an innocent one, yet Ana's body reacts to it in a completely different way. Her breath hitches quietly in her throat, but she quickly clears it. She snaps out of her wayward trance. A weekend has gone by, yet she still hasn't attempted to look up Elliot Grey on the internet. But today, she's finding it more and more difficult to remain totally ignorant of her client. She's delighted in Elliot's down-to-earth humor every time he called or sent an email regarding his claim.

Working with him was a breath of fresh air in an otherwise drab, mundane Seattle day. Ana appreciated the change of pace whenever he phoned. Still, she didn't want to teeter the line of unprofessionalism.

"I've taken up way too much of your time, Elliot," Ana says hastily.

A puff of air escapes his mouth, swatting away her remark like a fly. "You're taking very good care of me. Hell, I'll take your call over my broker or even my own mother," he says tongue-in-cheek. Ana giggles. "Damn, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you have the sweetest little laugh."

Ana's caught off guard. Don't you dare cross that line, Steele.

"I'm sorry... I hope I'm not creeping you out," he says, beyond apologetic.

"No worries," Ana says in a bit of a huff. "Hey, let me check one last thing to make sure you're all set." She studies the notes on her screen. "Looks like the first three damaged trucks in your fleet are done. The shop worked hard on them over the weekend. Feel free to keep the rental trucks you have if you need them until we're down to the last four. The water in the fuel tank fiasco extended your rental period."

"Dammit, I can't wait to get my hands on the assholes who did this," he growls under his breath.

"They were very careful according to the police report, but that doesn't mean at least one of the four didn't slip up somewhere. I hope all who were involved get caught soon," Ana says.

"Me too. I've got my all my best people on the case, as well as some of my dad's and my brother's contacts. I'm determined to find them."

"Sounds like it," Ana replies.

She's heard Tammy, her boss Marsha, and others babble on about the very prestigious Grey family. The youngest Grey son is apparently one of the most powerful magnates in the world. Ana wasn't sure if the youngest was Elliot or his brother since she tuned out after a few words of office chatter. She prefers to view her clients as they appear in their file and nothing else outside of that.

Ironically, an unchecked box on Elliot's digital file catches her attention.

"Oh, by the way, did you receive your claim agreement summary in the mail on Friday?"

"Yeah, I got it," Elliot said. "I signed it, but I meant to ask how to go about getting it to you."

"It came with an addressed, postmarked envelope. Just throw it in there and drop it in the mail."

"Can I just scan it and email it to you?" he says in a no-brainer tone of voice.

"No, unfortunately it has to be signed in original ink. If you mail it today, I should get it in a day or two."

"But I'd rather save the stamp," Grey says too kindly.

"That's very admirable of you, Elliot," she teases, "but its pre-postage paid. We already covered the price of the stamp whether you use it or not."

"Hey, you said you're in Rainier Square, right? In the Tower? I'll be in the neighborhood for a lunch meeting. How about I just drop it off at your office?"

Ana's nervous system is now on the fritz. Her chest feels as if it's going to cave in at any moment, while her mouth immediately goes dry. Oh my God, he wants to come here. Instinctively, she inspects her gray pencil skirt and cream blouse while her hand reaches up to her long, lush chestnut hair to blindly tame it.

Calm down, Steele. He's just dropping off a document. Nothing more. If anything, he can leave it with the receptionist and I'll pick it up on my way back from lunch.

"Not a problem. You can leave it with the receptionist in our lobby on the twenty-second floor..."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to thank you personally for all you've done to help me out over these past few days. Is that possible?" His voice sounds a bit softer. It's almost as if he's whispering to a baby. Ana's taken aback by the unprecedented request; speechless. After a few ticks on the clock of Ana's silence, Elliot's concern peaks. "Ana?"

"Sure," Ana finally spits out. Mentally she's kicking herself for the hasty, unfiltered response.

"Great. I'll meet you in the lobby. Around what time do you usually take off for lunch?"

Ana clams up but manages to push out her response. "Around twelve thirty until one thirty... ish." She closes her eyes regretting her clunky answer.

"Sweet," he breathes. "I'll get there before twelve thirty."

Ana clears her throat, but it doesn't help ease the tightening feeling around it. "Alright. See you then."

The second Ana hangs up from her call...

"Oh my God. He's coming here to see you!"

Ana turns her head and scowls at Tammy. "Do you ever take calls, or do you just listen in on mine?"

"I only listen when I hear the words 'Elliot' or 'Grey'," Tammy proudly spouts back.

"He's just dropping off his signed claim agreement."

"Yeah, I heard. It's something he could hand off to his mail guy during the daily delivery, yet he chooses to go out of his way and bring it to you personally." Tammy bats her lashes, teasing in a flirty response.

"He's not going out of his way. He actually has a business lunch taking place not far from here," Ana nips in the bud. The expression on Tammy's face gives away that she's not falling for it. Stirred up, Ana pushes out in a firm whisper, "He doesn't even know what I look like."

"But you know what he looks like," Tammy purrs.

"No, I don't," Ana counters donning an indifferent expression.

Tammy tilts her head sideways. "You mean to tell me that you haven't even looked him up?"

"That's what I'm telling you."

"Well, get ready to feast your eyes on some serious Grey man candy," Tammy glees before clapping and rubbing her hands together. Perturbed, Ana's jaggedly exhales and turns her chair, focusing on notating Elliot's file before following up on another claim. Tammy closes her argument with, "Don't say I didn't warn you," and Ana doesn't even flinch.

...

Around 12:15, Ana gets a call from reception alerting her that she has a visitor waiting up front. Thankfully, Tammy is away from her workstation. In fifteen minutes, the two plan on meeting fellow colleagues Doren, Noah, and Isa in the lobby. From there, they'll head over to the pizzeria located a quarter of a mile away. It's a typical chilly rainy Seattle November day, but they were all used to it. Besides, it's always good to leave the gray maze – as they called their office area – for a much-needed change of scenery.

Ana quickly opens her bottom desk drawer and plucks out her credit card-sized wallet and cell phone before making the journey towards the front of the building. She figured that she'd be prepared in case she decided to remain there after Elliot Grey dropped off his signed paperwork. Mylegent spanned four entire floors of the Rainier Square Tower. Although Ana's desk was located on the insurance giant's main floor, she and her claims team sat far north of the southern-facing main entrance. Walking the distance from one end to the other took nearly five minutes.

She managed to remain steady even though Tammy goaded her throughout the morning. But ever since reception rang her, a wave of nervous energy surged through the entire length of her body. He's just dropping off paperwork, she tells herself for the umpteenth time. But in that moment, her self-reassuring was as effective as a pacific northwestern mist during a raging forest fire.

The very moment she reaches the lobby, she spots a male figure wearing an opened three-quarter length brown jacket over a pressed blue shirt. His dark slacks reached down to the mouth of his polished brown loafers. His curly blond hair, bouncy and bountiful as if he only used the very best conditioner that no one has ever heard of. His shoulders were broad, and his blue eyes twinkled once they connected with hers.

Holy crap, he's so attractive. Ana blinked herself out of her haze and turned on her claims agent charm. Only then did she recognize that he was holding the handle of a brown paper gift bag, along with a manila envelope.

When he shifts and sees her approaching, his eyes open wide as well as his mouth. He's astonished. "Ana?"

She smiles and nods. "Elliot," Ana beams kindly. They now stand toe to toe.

Surprising her, he reaches in and hugs her tight. "You don't know how much this means to finally meet the angel who help save my fleet," he mutters close to her ear. Ana freezes as the side of her face touches the skin on his neck. He's much taller than she is, so she is thankful to be in heels or else he'd be like a tree towering her. He's so... manly. She is immediately taken by the strength of his embrace, his fresh scent, and his undeniable hunky looks.

Remembering himself while recognizing that she'd only pat his back and didn't fully reciprocate, Elliot releases her. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm a hugger," he says with a lopsided grin. I'm not really sorry. This girl is fucking hot, he thinks to himself. Holy shit. He's so glad that he decided to stop by and finally meet the face behind the voice. She looked even better than he'd imagined.

"I get it. Not a big deal," Ana chuckles. The nauseating feeling in her gut churns even more as he continues to stare at her as if she's an angel sent from heaven.

"Oh," he says, snapping out of it. "Here's the signed document." He hands her the envelope.

"Thank you for coming," she replies with a warm smile.

He couldn't help but to think of something else when she said that, but he abandoned the forbidden thought. Instead, he decided to let her know in his own way that he was interested in getting to know her outside of business. "If I wasn't meeting with a future client, I'd treat you to lunch," he says in a warm tone that agitates Ana's synapses even more.

"No, it's fine. Thank you," she says in a breathy response. "I'm happy I could help."

As Elliot's eyes look down at the bag that he's holding, Ana's eyes focus on his crown of glistening blond curls. They looked amazing. When his eyes lifted back up and met hers, she felt exposed. His blue irises were wicked and gleaming. Her breath catches in her chest.

"Hey, remember our little talk about Cougar Mountain cookies?" he says with the most handsome smile. He holds the bag out towards her and she gapes at him.

"Oh wow, you didn't have to do that..."

"I insist," he says in the sweetest tone. "There's a box for you to share, and one for you to take home. The moment you take your first bite, you'll thank me." He raises the bag up, urging her to take it. She finally does.

"I'll do it now. Thank you, Elliot," she says with a shy smile.

"You know, you're even more gorgeous than I imagined, and you were pretty damn hot in my mind."

Ana's speechless. While taking him in, she thought about how the photographs she saw didn't do the blond prince justice. He looked mouth-wateringly delicious. Ana quickly puts those thoughts under subjection.

"Thanks again for the cookies," she exhales.

He can tell that she feels uneasy, so he decides to grant her a little more space. "Enjoy your lunch, and the rest of your day."

"You as well. Good luck at your meeting," she beams.

He nods, his eyes – hooded. Her heart practically skips a beat as he turns on his heel and heads towards the glass doors.

"Ana Steele," she hears an oh-so familiar voice call out. Ana closes her eyes and sighs before turning behind her to spot Tammy, Doren, and Noah. Doren has flawless brown skin with dark tapered hair, while Noah's a floppy-haired brunet with fair skin. The two guys along with Tammy close the gap between them and Ana.

"What's that?" Doren says while grasping the handle of Ana's paper bag. "More thank-you goodies to share with your friends?"

Ana tugs it away from his hold. "Mine. They're Cougar Mountain cookies."

Doren gapes at her. "What? I love those!"

"They are freaking fantastic," Noah co-signs. "Although, those cookies from Mrs. Millard were pret-ty amazing."

"Yeah they were," Doren tags on, licking his chops. "But Cougar Mountain cookies, though..."

"I'll share some after lunch," Ana smirks. The two boys light up like children being promised a treat and she laughs. And although she's grateful for the minor distraction, she knows that it won't last for long. No longer delaying the inevitable, she turns to face Tammy. "Hey, where's Isa?"

"Hey, let's talk about how hottie supreme Elliot Grey was just sizing you up over there," Tammy says, killing the topic of baked goods. "He is very interested."

"Tammy, stop."

"Oh boy," groans Doren. Noah shakes his head in commiseration.

"And so are you," Tammy adds with a self-satisfied smirk. Ana gapes at her, appalled. Tammy is not swayed. "He's hot, Ana. You're hot."

Ana doesn't know where to begin, yet she knows that Tammy knows exactly how she's going to respond to the statement. So instead of going on another diatribe about how wrong it is to see clients outside of work, Ana simply says, "Nope."

"Ana... come on," Tammy whines, but Ana continues to repeat the same refusal over and over again.

As the day moved on, Ana would bark some variation of "no" at least two dozen more times. In the past, she's warned Tammy about 'pulling a Kate' and trying to hook her up with some random guy. Ana was young and content with her life as it stood. As far as she was concerned, romantic relationships only complicated life. She knew that men often found it difficult to remain faithful in a society that embraced sexual freedom. But Ana was old-school. She valued the heroes and heroines of her favorite classic novels. She knew exactly what she wanted in a man and didn't suffer fools gladly.

Sure, Elliot Grey was gorgeous and had a great sense of humor, but it took a lot more than that to whet Ana Steele's appetite.

...

(The next day)

Ana's frozen in place when her eyes meet a beautiful fall arrangement placed in a clear vase with a big red bow. The bouquet contained several multi-colored roses, lime-colored carnations, sunflowers, and purple kale. The burst of color is accented with lush greenery and dried lotus pods.

"Special delivery from hottie supreme," Tammy announces from the edge of her mouth without turning away from her screen. Ana shifts her stance towards Tammy, wondering how she beat her in to work for a change.

"How do you know who they're from?" Ana asks with hooded eyes.

"Just a strong hunch." Tammy's eyes remain laser-focused on her work, but her satisfied side smirk gives her away.

After powering on her computer and sipping tea through a travel mug, Ana reaches for the tiny envelope in the plastic floral pick holder. She slides the card out and reads.

ANA, THANKS FOR EVERYTHING.
I STILL OWE YOU LUNCH.
– ELLIOT

The butterflies run rampant in her stomach after taking in the words.

"So, was I right?" Ana's neighbor quips.

"Shut up, Tammy."

...

A week later, Ana finds herself on the phone again with Elliot Grey himself. Eight trucks that were vandalized in his fleet are now repaired, leaving several more to go. In spite of the inconvenience, Grey is well pleased that his construction business hasn't suffered. Still, the individuals that did this remain on the loose.

"Ana, what are you doing for lunch today?" he asks out of nowhere.

She's startled. "I... I actually brought my lunch today. I have a full docket of claims that I need to whittle down before the weekend."

"All work and no play, huh?" he teases in a sensual tone that catches Ana's breath.

"Yep," she chuckles nervously. "I'm a dull girl."

"Somehow I don't believe that," he croons, making Ana feel weak in the knees despite sitting.

"I'm sure it won't be long before your fleet of trucks are all back in working order," she says, changing the subject.

"You want to hear something funny?" he sweetly sings. "I kind of want them to take their time. It gives me a good reason to hear your voice every day."

She's speechless.

"Or, I could just man the hell up, stop thinking about it all the time, and finally ask you out."

Now, she's stupefied. The silence is deafening on both sides.

"Ana?"

She's beyond hesitant, but she doesn't want to lead him on.

"I'm flattered... really. I am."

"But?" he says in an upbeat tone, but he's clearly disappointed with the potential kiss-off.

"Unfortunately, I can't see my clients outside of work," she says as clearly and quietly as possible. She knows there are listening ears nearby that wouldn't hesitate to thump her in the center of her forehead if they heard her turning down the Elliot Grey.

"What about after my claim's closed? Will that still be an issue for you? I'd no longer be your client." he craftily proposes.

"But... you don't know me," she argues, trying her very best to remain calm and not cause a scene. Yet, her own body betrays her; her pulse races and her palms are clammy.

"I want to get to know you better. You intrigue me, Ana. You've even managed to slide into my dreams," he pleads.

Ana has never dealt with a man so forthcoming. Here is this stranger pouring his heart out to her during what should be a strictly professional phone call. And although his charming words waxed poetic, she remained skeptical of the situation. Elliot Grey was a wealthy business owner and playboy. Yes, she finally caved at home the same evening after they met face to face and managed to search him on the internet. She saw images of Elliot at various charity events, premieres, and high-profile business launches. Many of these photographs showed him hugged up with a different girl in a wild assortment of flavors. This intimidated her.

Ana's never been impressed by wealth or status, so those things bothered her as far as Grey was concerned. But if she pushed all that aside, the man was simply gorgeous, thoughtful, and funny. So, what's the problem? Ana couldn't help but be shell-shocked from her first bonafide relationship in college.

Doug Dorsey certainly fucked it up for everybody.

"Mr. Grey..."

"Elliot."

"... I can't. I'm so sorry." And without thinking, she disconnects the call. Suddenly, a rush of fear floods in.

I just hung up on a VIP client.
Fuck, I'm toast.
I can kiss that corner office goodbye.

...

(Six days later)

Late morning, Ana pushes through the glass door. She's relieved when her eyes meet a familiar smiling face. Thankfully there's no line as she approaches the front counter. Working solo is an attractive, dark-haired, brown-eyed young man. He's donning a white apron over a flannel shirt and faded jeans. When Ana reaches him, he leans over the counter to kiss her on the cheek.

"Hey, how's it going?" she asks after he leans back.

The guy immediately turns and starts preparing her usual drink order. Emerald City Café is a quaint little coffee shop located in Rainer Square. Her good friend José Rodriguez has been working here ever since he quit Mylegent last spring. He preferred the flexibility of the coffee shop, which gave him more time to focus on his dream of becoming a professional photographer. He's had a rough start, but at least he was moving ahead. Ana admired that about him. He wasn't afraid to take risks, while she felt that she was settling in life. She'd hope that some of his bravery would finally rub off on her.

"It's going. Slow and steady."

"Any potential gigs lined up?"

"I decided to do that engagement photoshoot next week."

The lack of excitement in his tone is not lost on Ana, yet she remains delighted. "That's great! I told you, any job is good. At least you're building up your portfolio."

"You know I'm a landscape guy," he sighs as he quickly dips a teabag into a to-go cup and tosses it out right after. He hands the cup over to Ana and she immediately drinks from it. "I don't like shooting people."

"I know. But maybe this can open up more doors. And once everyone sees how talented you are, they'll give you carte blanche to shoot whatever you like."

José's skepticism didn't let up. "I don't think taking photographs of Jack McDonnell and Maggie Smith will make any sort of splash. It would take shooting a high-profile engagement for me to get buzz."

"How about one of the Grey brothers," Ana teases, but regrets her words the moment they exit her mouth.

"Wait, one of them's getting married?" he gapes in total shock. "I didn't hear that, and you know I would've being that Maria keeps up with all the celebrity gossip."

Ana sighs. "I honestly have no idea. I've been assigned to work a business claim for one of them back on the first of the month. I had no clue who the Greys were."

José's eyes remain agape. "They're only the single most powerful family in Seattle – hell, the world. Hey... you didn't tell me you're working corporate claims now."

"I'm not," Ana frowns. "Bill Marsden routed the claim to me since corporate claims had the recent hurricane to deal with."

"Damn, so they give you this high-profile claim. Which Grey? You've been working with the personal assistant?"

"Elliot Grey. And no, I've been working with him directly."

"What!" he says, shocked again.

"He calls me every day. And he sends flowers every day. Even after I said 'no' to going out to lunch with him. Anyway, I don't know exactly how to handle this..."

"Excuse me?" José interrupts. "He sent you flowers?"

"And cookies. And chocolates. Delicious cookies and yummy chocolates, mind you," Ana says, rolling her eyes. "My cubical looks like a botanical garden and a bakery. I had to start giving stuff away."

"Wait a minute... he's been sending you gifts?"

"Well, they started pouring in right after he stopped by the office to hand in his signed claims agreement."

José laughs. "He saw you in person. Yep, he wants you. Hell, I mean look at you. You're a knockout, Steele." He takes in her tight gray slacks and frilly off-white blouse under her long dark brown trench coat. She always looked good to him no matter what she's wore.

Ana smacks his arm from across the counter and he laughs.

"You need to stop turning down guys all the time and start giving somebody a chance."

Her eyes close when a painful reminder comes back to the surface.

"Ana, stop it. I'm not talking about us."

She always felt that José remained sour after she turned him down a year ago. However, she was right to say no; they were better off as friends. Soon after, José would meet his perfect match, Maria. At the end of the day everyone was grateful that Ana said 'no'. But like Kate and Tammy, José wanted to see his good friend happy, too. It saddened him to witness Ana turning down nice guys every time their group of friends hung out.

"It's only lunch," he pleads. "If he turns out to be a royal jerk, it'll be that much sweeter to tell him to go take a hike."

"No way," Ana says with a stiff jaw.

"You know you want to say, 'No way, José'. Go ahead and say it," he says, deadpan.

Immediately, Ana lightens up and starts to laugh.

"Hey, does he at least make you laugh? Does he have a great sense of humor?" His question takes her aback. Unable to lie, she nods, exasperated that he's hitting a good point square on the nose. "Well at least you'll have a good time chatting over lunch. If that's all it is, then it is what it is," he says, hunching his shoulders. "Don't go in with expectations. Just have lunch. You know you want to, anyway," he teases with a grin.

José knew her well. She has definitely mulled over the thought for weeks now. And as time flew by, it was getting closer and closer to the day where she'd have to close Elliot's claim. That would be the very day that the door of opportunity would close, too.

He'd have no other reason to call her.

(THE PRESENT)

After leaving dinner atop the massive skyscraper, Ana finds herself in the passenger seat of Christian's R8 once again. This time, she's tonguing down the car's owner over the center console. Both of his hands are clasping her chestnut-colored hair to the scalp. One of her hands threads his silky copper mane, while the other caresses his back through his suit jacket.

This feels natural, not foreign, Christian thinks to himself. It's as if my back was created for only her touch. He's not the slightest bit afraid. In fact, he doesn't even flinch. She's finally where she belongs.

He's waited his entire life for her; for this moment.

She moans, completely lost in his kiss and his touch. The second their mouths collided after the car doors shut, there was no guilt from either party. All that sexual tension over dinner finally poured out into the atmosphere.

In the midst of their exchange, Christian immediately has a thought. He knows full well that he's going to absolutely regret speaking it, but he has to. He needs to. Reluctantly, he pulls his lips away from hers, and she sighs in protest. His fiery gray eyes burn into hers and she trembles.

"Come home with me," he says gruffly.

"Yes," she gasps, barely breathing.

He turns and immediately starts the car. "Buckle up," he says, and she knows that his command is both for now and later. Still burning with desire, she fastens her seatbelt and he does the same before peeling out of the parking garage.

It was over an hour ago when his gaze first turned dark and he vowed to fuck away every trace of heartbreak caused by her recent ex. Ana then knew that the longstanding rumors about Christian being either a thirty-year-old virgin or secretly gay were false. The manner in which he commanded a room and captivated an audience, there was no way in hell that this man never touched a woman, or vice versa.

When Ana shocked even herself by kissing him moments ago, and he'd kissed her back with equal ferocity, her impressions were sealed. Hell, she nearly came in her underwear from that kiss alone. What would he do next? As he swiftly but skillfully turned from one street to the next, Ana remained both excited and mortified by her 'yes'. There was a time when the three-letter word wasn't even in her vocabulary.

For some reason, he made saying 'yes' as simple as breathing, even after all she'd been through.

A/N: I'm back! So, what do you think of the story so far? Let me know! – ST2