Chapter 3: First kiss
Alex sat back on the leather sofa, slowly swirling the whiskey in his glass. The ice clinked quietly, the amber liquid catching the light as he watched it spin—deep in thought. The room was quiet, the silence stretching, but Earl stood patiently nearby—waiting for his next order.
“Bring me a new set of clothes,” Alex finally talked, his voice cool and steady.
Earl gave a small nod. “Yes, sir.”
Alex’s eyes flicked up, a darker glint passed behind them. “And one more thing.”
Earl turned, eyebrows lifting slightly. “Sir?”
“The waitress from earlier,” Alex said, voice turned sharper. “The one who served the food.”
A slow smile tugged at his mouth—casual, but laced with something devilish. “Have the manager send her in with the wine. No one else.”
There was a beat of hesitation, but Earl nodded. “Understood.”
Alex tipped the glass to his lips, his eyes already drifting toward the door.
She wasn’t like the others. She hadn’t backed down. In fact, she had pushed back—harder than anyone had dared in a long time. And for reasons he didn’t care to admit, she was still on his mind.
He leaned back, fingers absently tracing the rim of his glass.
Women never got under his skin. To him, they were just like parasites—easy to crush. But he didn't know why she intrigued him. And that was what he wanted to find out.
Setting the glass down, he stood and walked toward the bathroom. The click of his shoes echoed through the quiet as he undressed, tossing his shirt onto the marble counter, then slipping out of the rest.
The bathroom was cold and crisp, polished marble gleaming under soft white light. He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over his toned body. It soaked his skin, steam rising around him as the tension bled from his muscles.
Still, her image lingered.
Those sharp eyes. That biting mouth. That fire.
When he stepped out, he toweled off and wrapped the fabric around his waist. A few minutes later, Earl returned, placing fresh clothes on the edge of the bed.
“The manager’s been informed,” Earl said. “She’ll be here shortly.”
Alex gave a slight nod. “Good.”
Once Earl was gone, Alex took his time getting dressed. He buttoned his shirt slowly, leaving the top two undone. The dark fabric clung to his torso, just enough to hint at the shape of his physique. He clipped on his limited-edition watch and Buddhist bracelet, poured another glass of whiskey, and sat back down.
Then came the knock.
He didn’t rush.
“Come in,” he said calmly.
The door opened, and there she was.
Eve stepped inside with a bottle of wine in her hand. She paused slightly as her eyes met his. There was surprise there—maybe even frustration—as she took in the sight of him.
Damp hair, open collar that showed his sturdy chest.
‘Damn, he's the epitome of handsomeness. He's too hot!’ An embarrassing thought crossed her mind.
“You?” she asked, frowning slightly.
Alex’s lips curled. “Pour me some wine.”
Eve braced herself first before walking over and placed the bottle on the table with a sharp thud. His arrogance a while ago was still fresh on her mind. And how dare he casually order her to pour the wine for her? She's not a hostess!
“You’ve got hands. Pour it yourself,” she blandly said.
His smile deepened, but the tone in his voice cooled. “Refusing to do your job?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t sign up to be your butler.”
Alex leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady. “Did you not hear me?”
“I heard you clearly,” she shot back. “Maybe you’re just not used to being told no.”
His smile thinned. “That’s the problem. I’m not.”
Arguing with this man would only stress her out. Irritated, she snatched up the bottle and uncorked it with a practiced twist. Her jaw was tight, her movements jerky, as she poured the wine into his glass.
“Happy now?” she said bitterly.
She turned to leave—but before she could take a step, Alex’s hand shot out and caught her wrist.
She froze. “What are you doing?”
“You didn’t finish it,” he said.
“I poured the wine,” she rolled her eyes at him.
Alex's smirk deepened. “You didn’t hand it to me.”
She stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “You can reach it yourself.”
He tightened his hold on her, not painfully—but enough for her to feel it. His other hand lifted the glass. He took a slow sip, watching her over the rim before setting it back down.
“Sit,” he said.
“No,” she replied firmly.
His thumb brushed lightly against her wrist. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m not. And what is it to you, jerk!” she said, though her voice betrayed her.
Then, without thinking, she moved to kick him—but he caught her leg before it made contact on his shin. In one swift motion, he stepped closer, trapping her between him and the table.
“You’re tempting me,” he murmured, his hand sliding up her arm.
His fingers found the pulse at her neck—slow and steady… until it wasn’t. He didn’t understand himself. Why was he acting this way, when he couldn’t even stand being near a woman—let alone touching one?
She’d already done two unbelievable things to him. First, she yelled at him and cussed him out. Second, he was tempted—to tease her… and to touch her.
Was this still the real Alexander Harris?
“Let me go,” she said through gritted teeth.
He didn’t.
Instead, his touch followed the curve of her jaw, gentle but unyielding.
“Not yet.”
And then he kissed her.
It was fast, rough, like a storm breaking open. His mouth crashed into hers, catching her mid-breath. She froze when his warm and soft lips touched hers. Her hands flew against his chest to push him—but he didn’t budged or even pull back. He instead pressed his big hand at the back of her head and deepened the kiss— taking her breath away.
Her brain screamed at her to stop it—but her body betrayed her, heat and adrenaline rushing through her limbs like fire. For what it felt like hours, he finally pulled back, slightly.
That was her chance to slip. She shoved him with all her strength and broke free from his grasp.
“Pervert!” she snapped, eyes wide with fury.
Alex didn’t shrink away . His gaze stayed locked on her— calm, unbothered. “What? Was it something you didn’t like?”
Her eyes blazed like flames. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He gave a low chuckle. “You’ve got quite the temper.”
“You’re insane!” she shouted, lifting her hand instinctively.
Alex just smiled, dark and full of mischievousness. “Go ahead. Try.”
And she really did.
Her hand snapped across his face, the sound was too sharp in the quiet room. His head turned slightly from the force of it, but he didn’t react. Not at all.
Eve hurried out of the room—as if she’d just committed the biggest crime of her life.
A faint red mark bloomed on Alex’s cheek, but his expression didn’t change. He stood there, just as stunned by his own actions.
The hell…
What did he just do?
