-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Э. Л. Джеймс
-
- Пятьдесят оттенков серого
-
- Стр. 688/797
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
I
look
at
him
,
puzzled
.
“
Trust
me
.
”
He
grins
,
leans
over
,
and
kisses
me
quickly
on
the
lips
,
then
grabs
my
hand
and
we
head
out
.
Outside
,
in
the
relative
cool
of
the
half
light
of
predawn
,
the
valet
hands
Christian
a
set
of
keys
to
a
flashy
sports
car
with
a
soft
top
.
I
raise
an
eyebrow
at
Christian
,
who
smirks
back
at
me
.
“
You
know
,
sometimes
it
’
s
great
being
me
,
”
he
says
with
a
conspiratorial
but
smug
grin
that
I
simply
can
’
t
help
emulating
.
He
’
s
so
lovable
when
he
’
s
playful
and
carefree
.
He
opens
my
car
door
with
an
exaggerated
bow
,
and
in
I
climb
.
He
is
in
such
a
good
mood
.
“
Where
are
we
going
?
”
“
You
’
ll
see
.
”
He
grins
as
he
slips
the
car
into
drive
,
and
we
head
out
on
Savannah
Parkway
.
He
programs
the
GPS
and
presses
a
switch
on
the
steering
wheel
,
and
a
classical
orchestral
piece
fills
the
car
.
“
What
’
s
this
?
”
I
ask
as
the
sweet
,
sweet
sound
of
a
hundred
violin
strings
assails
us
.
“
It
’
s
from
La
Traviata
.
An
opera
by
Verdi
.
”
Oh
,
my
…
it
’
s
lovely
.