Billionaire's Bride

Fierce Women

Janette distanced herself from Asher and hurried to the washroom, eager to escape the tension. The bathroom was a marvel of modern design: a sleek, glass-enclosed shower with a futuristic aesthetic. Despite her feelings toward Asher, she couldn't help but admire his taste in interior design.

As she stepped into the shower, she was enveloped by a scent reminiscent of Asher’s own alluring fragrance. The shower’s luxurious design and calming scent made her momentarily forget her frustrations. After a long, refreshing shower, she wrapped herself in a towel and made her way to the closet.

To her surprise, she found Asher standing shirtless with his back to her. Her initial reaction was one of shock, followed by an involuntary admiration of his physique. Despite her inner turmoil, she couldn’t help but appreciate how strikingly handsome he appeared, even in such an informal state.

“Why is he always so infuriating?” she thought, trying to shake off the involuntary attraction. The voice in her head echoed her frustrations, urging her to focus on the reality of their situation.

Asher’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Are you done staring?”

She hadn’t noticed him turning around, and now his intense blue eyes were locked onto hers. Her grip on the towel tightened as she tried to avoid his gaze, but his presence was overwhelming.

“What do you want?” she managed to ask, trying to muster some courage. Her heart raced under his scrutinizing gaze, and she forced herself to meet his eyes, despite feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Asher’s gaze softened slightly, a flicker of something like warmth visible in his eyes. He tightened his grip on her hand. “Who gave you permission to speak to me like that?” His tone was a mix of irritation and intrigue, and she couldn’t help but scowl at his audacity.

“I like this girl’s guts,” Asher thought, though he quickly dismissed the thought as he focused on her again. His gaze fell to her towel-clad figure, and he smirked at her defiant stance.

“Are you planning to spend your day wandering around the house in just a towel?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

Janette rolled her eyes, deflecting his gaze. “Mr. Norman, since when did you start pretending you have a brain?”

Asher’s smirk widened at her comment. “And what makes you say that?”

“I’d have dried my hair if you weren’t here,” she replied casually, a hint of defiance in her voice.

He tried to close the distance between them, his hand slipping from hers as he leaned in. She backed away until her back hit the wall, their faces dangerously close. Asher’s gaze was fixed on her lips, and the space between them seemed to vanish.

“What are you trying to do?” she stammered, feeling weak and disoriented under his intense gaze. Her breath mingled with his, and the proximity was almost unbearable.

Asher closed his eyes momentarily, savoring her minty breath and the intoxicating scent of her hair. His lips were about to touch hers when she suddenly pushed him away and fled the closet, muttering, “Jerk.”

Asher stood there, stunned and perplexed. For the first time, a woman had rejected him, leaving him to grapple with a new and unsettling sensation.