Phoebe stared at him, incredulous. "There's no room for you here. What are you even talking about?"
"It's fine," he said casually, his eyes glinting with a mischievous light.
"I don't mind sharing a bed with you. I'll make do." He leaned in close to her ear, his voice low and seductive, his gaze drifting to her curves in a way that made Phoebe feel completely exposed.
Damn it, she hadn't even put on a bra when she came out.
"You—" Phoebe gasped, her hands instinctively covering her chest.
What was wrong with him? Just moments ago, he was furious, and now he was being this way. Was he schizophrenic?
Alexander straightened his back and pointed to the room across the hall. "Is that your room?"
Without waiting for her response, he started walking toward it.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
