Chapter 131
The room was pitch black as Isabella fumbled through the drawers, her fingers brushing against unfamiliar objects.
“I could have sworn the candles were in here…”
Without any light and the heavy curtains still drawn, she might as well have been blindfolded.
No sooner had the words left her lips than her foot slid on the polished hardwood floor, sending her stumbling forward.
“Damn it.”
She braced for impact, expecting the cold, unforgiving floor—but instead, she was caught in a pair of strong arms, pulled flush against a warm, solid chest.
“Careful, Ms. Sinclair.”
Alexander had been watching her closely. The moment she lost her balance, he moved, his arm wrapping securely around her waist to steady her.
Neither of them pulled away immediately.
In the darkness, their breaths mingled—soft, uneven, too close. The faint scent of vanilla and something distinctly her filled his senses, and for a moment, the oppressive blackness didn’t seem so suffocating.
His fingers flexed slightly against the curve of her waist, an unbidden thought flashing through his mind—How is she this small?
Isabella, her cheek nearly pressed against his chest, exhaled sharply.
“Mr. Kingsley, are you planning to let go anytime soon?”
Alexander snapped back to reality, releasing her instantly. “My apologies.”
They stepped apart, the air thick with an awkward tension. Isabella smoothed a hand over her waist where he’d held her, lips quirking into a smirk.
“I didn’t take you for the type to take advantage of a situation, Mr. Kingsley. And yet, you still manage to sound so polite about it.”
Alexander chuckled lowly. “Now, now, Ms. Sinclair. No need to tease.”
Quickly redirecting the moment, he knelt beside her, helping her search for the candles. Soon, the soft glow of candlelight filled the room, casting flickering shadows across their faces.
The sight stirred something in Alexander—a memory of that night in the cave, the way the firelight had danced across Isabella’s features, dangerous and mesmerizing.
The same feeling coiled in his chest now.
“Finally, some light,” Isabella murmured, inhaling the familiar scent of gardenias from the candle.
It tugged at her own memories—the dim lighting of the underground parking lot, the heat of his lips against hers. The thought was intoxicating, lingering in the silence between them.
For a long moment, neither spoke, the air charged with something unspoken.
Isabella was the first to break the quiet. She placed the candle on the bedside table, her tone light but edged with amusement.
“Mr. Kingsley, you can have the bed tonight. I’ll take the room next door.”
Alexander’s response was immediate. “No.”
The sharpness of his own voice surprised him. He paused, then continued more smoothly, “It’s storming outside. I can’t let you sleep alone in another room. What if something happens?”
His tone was casual, but Isabella saw right through it.
“Then how about this?” she suggested, tilting her head. “You take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor in here. That way, if anything happens, I’ll be right here.”
Isabella blinked, then let out a soft laugh. She was almost certain Alexander was just making excuses. It was just rain, not an apocalypse. What could possibly happen?
But when she glanced at him, the candlelight flickering across his face, she caught something else—the barely concealed tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed at his sides.
She couldn’t resist.
“Mr. Kingsley, you said I’m just a woman—not strong enough to defend myself. If you decide to do something inappropriate in the middle of the night, what am I supposed to do? Scream? There’s no one around to hear me.”
Alexander recognized the teasing lilt in her voice, but it didn’t make the situation any less ridiculous. Here he was—a grown man, afraid of the dark, insisting on sleeping in her room like some kind of overprotective fool.
Still, he maintained his composure, replying evenly, “That won’t happen, Ms. Sinclair. Besides, need I remind you? You’ve already bested me twice.”
Isabella arched a brow. “But didn’t you just say you wanted to protect me?”
Before she could finish, Alexander let out a slow breath. Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, his fingers brushed the edge of her sleeve.
“Ms. Sinclair… I’m really afraid of the dark.”
