Chapter 129
After ensuring Isabella reached the villa near Muisvedo safely, Alexander spoke in his usual composed tone.
“Ms. Sinclair, you should get some rest. The weather’s turned bitter—I’d hate for you to fall ill.”
Isabella offered him a faint smile. “Thank you, Mr. Kingsley. Don’t forget to look after yourself as well.”
But the moment Alexander turned the ignition, something was wrong. His grip on the steering wheel tightened briefly before he frowned and reached for his phone.
Noticing his hesitation, Isabella tilted her head slightly, her gaze flickering to the dashboard, where the warning lights flickered ominously.
“What’s wrong? Car trouble?”
“Engine issue. Nothing serious. I’ll call for assistance,” Alexander replied, though his voice carried an edge of unease. Normally, he wouldn’t bother with such trivial matters—his team handled everything. But outside, the storm had worsened, rain slashing against the windows like knives, thunder rolling in the distance, turning the night into something wild and untamed.
Isabella hesitated. He had gone out of his way to drive her home, and now his car had failed. Leaving him stranded in this downpour felt almost cruel.
“It’s fine, Mr. Kingsley,” she said, her tone light. “Rather than waiting for your assistant in this mess, why don’t you come inside until the storm passes? We can sort it out then.”
Alexander paused. Calling Sebastian wasn’t an issue, but something in her offer made him lower his phone. He glanced up at her, one brow arched.
“Ms. Sinclair, isn’t that dangerously trusting? Inviting a man into your home without hesitation—what if my intentions weren’t so honorable? Aren’t you worried you might regret it?”
Isabella smirked, mischief glinting in her eyes. “With your looks and reputation, Mr. Kingsley, I’d say you’re the one who should be cautious tonight.”
Neither backed down, the tension between them sharpening before dissolving into quiet laughter, the storm’s fury momentarily forgotten.
“Then I’ll accept your invitation,” Alexander conceded, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
Inside, Alexander took in the villa’s interior. Every detail reflected his own taste—he’d overseen the design himself. Yet now, with Isabella living here, subtle changes had been made. A vase of fresh flowers on the table, a stack of books left carelessly on the sofa. Small, personal touches that somehow made the space feel warmer.
“Here.” Isabella handed him a steaming cup of coffee.
Alexander inhaled the rich aroma. “Excellent blend.”
Outside, the storm raged on, rain battering the windows, petals from the garden’s cherry blossoms torn loose and scattered like forgotten secrets. It was clear the weather wouldn’t relent anytime soon.
Isabella stretched, exhaustion evident in the slight slump of her shoulders. “This villa was rented to me at a generous rate, thanks to you, Mr. Kingsley. It’s rare to find a place so perfectly designed. Since there’s plenty of space, why don’t you stay the night? Consider it my way of repaying the favor.”
Alexander chuckled, amusement dancing in his gaze. “If you insist, I won’t refuse. Though I must say, offering a room as thanks is… unconventional. If you truly want to repay me, perhaps dinner would suffice?”
Isabella shot him a pointed look, throwing his earlier words back at him. “Alone with a man, Mr. Kingsley? Isn’t that risky? What if your intentions aren’t as noble as they seem? I might find myself in a rather… compromising position.”
For once, Alexander was at a loss for words, forced to grin at his own irony. Usually quick with sharp retorts, he found himself disarmed when it came to her.
“I’m going to shower,” Isabella announced, grabbing fresh clothes. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“Of course.” Alexander nodded, still holding the warm cup.
It should have been an ordinary night.
But the moment the bathroom door closed, the faint sound of running water beneath the storm’s relentless drumming became impossible to ignore. His mind wandered, unbidden, to the image of water trailing down her skin—and for a fleeting second, something dark flickered in his gaze, an intensity he couldn’t quite suppress.
