Chapter 4 Kyle

Kyle. Hana rolled the name on her tongue, and a small smile lifted the corners of her lips. She liked the name. She liked the owner of the name. And maybe she even liked this place. If he let her, she would jump over the long couch, watching as the city slept. “Thanks, Kyle.” Kyle’s grey eyes blazed with something intense, and Hana tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear. If she had to hazard a guess, she would say his mind was straying to indecent places. But in his case, the thought didn’t disgust her. The only thing that mildly nauseated her was his familiarity with the hotel receptionist and his flimsy excuse afterward. If the young man wanted to sleep around, that was his business, but lying to her would do nobody any good. Someone like him would never lack female attention. “Um, so… you were going to show me to the room.” “Right.” Kyle laughed. They continued to the main bedroom, and a small gasp left her lips when they entered. The curtains were open, and the glow of the moon cast a shadow on the carpeted floor, giving the impression they were in a fantasy. Kyle had money. Only a rich man could afford to live in a penthouse. It wasn’t that they were poor, but Hana never considered her father’s money hers, not like he ever let her forget her role or place. Hana stalked further inside, and her eyes scanned the place. His bedroom was neat, an A+ in her book. She flinched at the girl she saw in the mirror. She looked tired. Broken. Her tired eyes were reddened from crying too much, and her lips were swollen, probably from kissing Kyle. Coming up from behind her, Kyle stared at her through the mirror. Even without his jacket, and his askew tie, he looked put together. “I’ll prepare a bath for you.” “Thanks, Kyle.” “Already called my assistant. She will get some clothes here in a few minutes. I’ll be back.” “Assistant?” Hana turned so she was no longer looking at him through the mirror. She didn’t know how she felt about him being rich. The rich men in her father’s friend groups were all pricks. Most of them were only kind because they had hidden intentions. “Who exactly are you, sir?” “Again with the sir?” Kyle asked, his tone too flat for Hana to figure out his mood. He slipped his hands into his pockets, standing straighther to show the height difference between them. Hana didn’t mean to offend him, but before she could apologise, he continued, “Who am I? Kyle. And yes, I have an assistant. She makes life easier.” Hana was so tempted to ask if that included them having sex. For some reason, the thought of him being with another woman irked her. Her brain must interpret his kind gesture of saving her to mean affection for him. Hana liked Kyle, but not in the romantic way. In the same way she enjoyed ice-cream, but not how she liked writing. She could live without ice-cream, but not without writing. “Wait for me here,” he told her. Kyle disappeared behind a door she assumed was the bathroom, and she used that chance to explore the room. There was a wardrobe in one corner. Two abstract pictures hung on the wall above the bed. The bed was big enough for three or even four people, and the thought of sharing it with a man made heat creep up her neck. Seconds later, Kyle opened the door and his head poked out. “Your bath is ready.” “Thanks.” Hana rushed into the bathroom. She didn’t try to admire the interior, but everything inside here screamed money. She folded the jacket Kyle gave her on the sink and tried to remove her dress. But the zip was jammed. She tried again, twisting her body this way and that way to drag it off, but it was futile. This couldn’t be happening to her. Moments passed, and the zipper was still stuck. Hana’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment. She padded to the door and poked her head into the bedroom. Kyle was lying on the bed, feet planted on the floor. He had removed his button-down shirt, leaving him in a white vest. Her throat dried up. This was not the right time for her mind to be conjuring images like this, but she imagined him wrapping her in his firm arms and telling her everything was alright. Hana must have made a sound because Kyle pushed himself up on his elbows. “Do you need anything?” he asked. Kyle was up on his feet and strolling towards her. Hana gripped the door to keep it from opening further. Not like he hadn’t seen naked women. Besides, if she wanted to get out of this dress, she had to be prepared for him to see skin. Her skin. “Angel?” “Yeah.” Hana straightened up and gulped audibly when her eyes flew to his buckle. His belt was missing. “As a matter of fact, I do. I can’t figure out my zip. So, I, uh…” “You need my help?” he completed for her. “Yeah. That’s if you don’t mind.” Kyle grinned. “I don’t mind at all, Angel.” Her stomach tightened. Hana hated that he chose to call her Angel, but she loved how soothing it sounded coming from him. Was she okay? She was contradicting herself. She had been so close to getting gang raped a while ago, and now she was fantasising over the guy that saved her? A screw must have loosened in her skull when she hit her head. He stepped into the bathroom with her, and the air inside vanished. She swallowed to wet her parched throat. Standing so close to Kyle made her heart pick up speed. Hana turned her back to him so he could help her with the zip. She sucked in a shaky breath when Kyle pushed her wet hair over one shoulder. Warmth flooded her being. She had been cold earlier, but his touch had heat burning in the pit of her stomach and spreading to every inch of her body. Good God. The sound of the zip opening cracked the air. Hana bit her lip to keep from moaning. Her hand lowered to the porcelain sink, and she gripped it for dear life. How could someone’s touch affect her so badly? A stranger. Granted, she had lived a sheltered life. No boyfriends. No close friends except for the acquaintances she had made from accompanying her father to occasions, most of whom she hated for their pretentiousness. But this was abnormal. Kyle’s fingers skimmed over the skin on her lower back, and her knees bucked. She couldn’t hold herself any longer. Her thoughts dissolved in a puddle when he touched her again without any inhibition. She was fast melting in a pool of lust. Something had to be wrong with her. “You’re injured,” he said in a husky tone. Hana hid a grin, comforted by the knowledge that she was not the only one affected by their proximity. Wait, what did he say? “What do you mean?” Hana asked. Stepping away from him was futile. His hand curled around the nape of her neck, and his fingers caressed her lower back. She winced. It must have happened when they held the knife to her back. “It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine.” Kyle was already walking away from her. “It’s fine.” “No, it’s not,” Kyle told her. His stern voice held no room for argument. Her breath collapsed in her chest when he finally stepped away. He opened drawers and cabinets until he found what he was looking for. A small first aid box. “I’ll have to clean it up to know how deep it is.” “It’s really not a big deal,” Hana protested, and he shut her up with a cold glare. She didn’t like feeling like a child, but he was looking at her the same way her father would when she flaunted his rigid orders. He dropped the box on the sink and opened it. “Fine. Okay. Suit yourself, Mr Kyle.” “I just want to make sure you’re okay, Angel.” “What do you even care?” He paused. “You are in my custody, Angel. Of course I care. I made you a promise.” And no one would care if he didn’t honour it. Turning her back to him so he could do what he wanted, she held onto the sink. Her eyes smiled, but she replied, “Whatever.” Kyle chuckled but kept mute. He wet the cotton wool with some methylated spirit, and she braced for the sting. It came, but the pain was mild. He rubbed the cotton wool over the spot in gentle motions. “Are you a doctor?” she asked. He laughed harder, and she smiled along. They shared one look in the mirror. “You’re so gentle.” “I’ve had loads of practice. My sister has a knack for the wild, so I have learned to step up.” The grin that curled his lips as he spoke about his sister made her ask, “You have a sister?” He nodded and tossed the stained cotton wool into the dustbin by the door. “How many? Is she your only sibling?” Kyle leaned a hip against the sink, ankles crossed and arms folded on a toned chest. Her mouth dried up. He was perfectly built. She would describe him as a wet dream if he were a character from her book. “Are we trying to get to know each other now?” he teased. Hana blushed. His tone reassured her it was a joke. She wasn’t thinking straight when she told him that. But now that her head was clearer, she wasn’t sure she wanted to take those words back. “I have just one sister. And a younger brother.” “Nice.” She knew she should tell him more, but they wouldn’t meet after today, so what was the point? Plus, it was better. The less he knew about her, the easier it would be for him to forget her. As for Hana, she could never forget Kyle. In fact, he would be the inspiration for the male love interest in her next story. “Really nice, Kyle.” Annoyance bounced off him. Kyle frowned and unfolded his arms. “You’re really not going to tell me anything about yourself?” His eyes dimmed as his gaze raked her from head to bottom. She held the dress to her chest and backed away. “Not fair, don’t you think? At least tell me your name.” “No.” “Can I ask you a question?” “No.” Kyle smirked, and she had this feeling that she was about to get in deep trouble with him. “I’ll ask anyway, Angel, and if you lie, I’ll kiss you.”