Hospital room.
The nurse removed the IV from Kristen's hand and taped the site. Tired of the bed, she got up and sat on the sofa for a while.
She hadn't finished a glass of water when Jason pushed the door open.
She set the cup down at once and stood, greeting sweetly, "Mr. Jin."
Jason lowered his lashes slightly, walked to the sofa, and sat. He spared one word, stingy as ever: "Sit."
Kristen hesitated between the sofa beside him and the one across, then chose to sit at his side.
He leaned back and said nothing, looking faintly bored.
Kristen had rehearsed a whole speech, but now that he was here, she didn't know where to start, fingers worrying each other in her lap.
After a moment, she began softly, "Mr. Jin…"
Jason slowly lifted his gaze toward her.
She drew a breath and thanked him, earnest and clear. "Thank you for saving me."
If not for Jason, she'd likely be on the road to reincarnation by now.
That was a life-saving grace.
Under his thick, fan-like lashes, Jason's dark eyes were calm as still water, but his mouth tipped faintly. "Just a thank-you?"
Dismissive of such meager sincerity.
Kristen shook her head, very slightly. Her palm was damp where it pressed to the sofa cushion. Under his unwavering stare, she leaned in, inch by inch.
His thin lips were right there. For some reason, the closer she got, the faster her heart raced.
Just as it leapt to her throat, Kristen shut her eyes and brushed her mouth against his.
Soft, dry lips, with the faintest hint of smoke. It was barely a second—but a tremor ran through her, and she darted back to her seat.
Jason's black eyes fixed on her, unreadable. He didn't even twitch a brow.
"I don't have much with which to repay you. When I'm better, I…" Kristen lowered her gaze and forced herself on, stopping and starting.
Sunlight poured through the window, bathing the room in warm quiet.
When no response came, she lifted her head slowly. Seeing no reaction on his face, a prick of regret and defeat rose in her. "That doesn't work either?"
"Of course not." The man of few words finally spoke. As disappointment colored her face, his large hand caught her chin, and he bent to kiss her.
Her captivating eyes flew open. She went still.
Seeing her stunned, his fingers slid from her chin to gently stroke her cheek. His voice was low and coaxing. "Tongue. Let me kiss you."
Kristen's face flared rose-red.
How could he say something so indecent with such a straight face.
"Be good," he encouraged softly. "Weren't you going to thank me?"
Flushed and flustered, Kristen closed her eyes and, bewitched, did as told.
Jason lowered his head and took her mouth. At first he was gentle, testing. When she didn't resist, he deepened the kiss.
Kristen felt lightheaded, the strength draining from the hands fisted in his shirt.
She'd never known a kiss alone could be this intoxicating.
She didn't know how long it lasted. When she came back to herself, she was lying on the sofa and Jason was leaning over her, his damp lips brushing one last peck against hers.
Both of them were fully dressed, clothing hardly mussed, and yet their staggered breaths laced the quiet room with a flushed, decadent heat.
Jason's long, cleanly-boned fingers stroked her cheek. His roughened voice broke the silence.
"Did he kiss you well—or do I kiss you better?"
Reader's view of Jason: domineering CEO, master at poaching.
Kristen's view of Jason: aloof executive, above the dust of the mundane.
The real Jason: repressed, sharp-tongued, drinks jealousy like water—lecherous in love.
Jason, cigarette between his lips, rebuts: Twenty-eight. Not old.
( End of Chapter )