Alice looked up, stunned, at the man who now leaned casually against her lounge doorframe. His broad, masculine frame exuded an effortless authority, and the dim light only enhanced the intimidating air he carried.
Jermin Hunt, with his piercing, ice-cold gaze, surveyed her with a teasing glint in his eye. His black leather jacket, tailored perfectly to his form, along with a dark, understated shirt and fitted pants, screamed both elegance and dominance.
The faint shimmer of his tattoos, snaking from beneath the shirt's collar down his forearm, and the small glint of his earring gave him an untamed rebellious and dominant edge, a combination of refinement and raw power.
For a brief moment, Alice couldn't believe her eyes. Jermin Hunt was here. In New York.