My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage

Chapter 186:

The water hit them both, soaking them in seconds.

Kristopher shivered as the cold water drenched him, his teeth clenched. “This is your idea of a solution?”

Unbothered, Carrie moved to the tub, her fingers twisting the faucet to let cold water spill in.noveldrama

“This is what they do in dramas,” she said matter-of-factly. “Cold water fixes everything. Trust me—I’m a screenwriter. I’ve researched this,” she added with a slight smirk.

Water soaked through her dress, the fabric clinging to her body and outlining every curve with startling clarity.

As she bent over to adjust the faucet, her back to him, the elegant curve of her hips caught his attention, leaving him momentarily breathless.

The sight, combined with the intoxicating pull of the drug still coursing through him, unraveled the last thread of his self-control.

Kristopher’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his resolve crumbling as he stepped closer to her.

His long fingers found her waist, his touch deliberate yet hesitant as they brushed against the damp fabric of her dress, the heat of his hand searing through the wet material.

Leaning closer, his breath warm against her ear, he whispered in a low, gravelly voice, “Carrie… I want you.”

A shiver coursed through Carrie’s body, her legs trembling beneath her as weakness overtook her. She wriggled free from Kristopher’s embrace, hurriedly kicked off her shoes, and stepped into the bathtub, sinking into the cold water with a quick, desperate motion.

Curling up, she let the icy water rise to her shoulders, but it did little to douse the inferno raging inside her—a disorienting blend of fire and ice.

Kristopher’s gaze burned into her, predatory and unyielding, the intensity in his eyes threatening to consume her whole.

Reason slipped from his grasp, overtaken by a searing passion. He no longer cared if it was the effects of the drug or something deeper—all he knew was that he wanted her. She was his wife. Why should he hold back?

With that resolve, he reached for her, gathering her into his arms. His voice was low, coaxing. “Cold water won’t help. You’ll just make yourself sick.”

His hands moved with purpose—one arm secured her waist, while the other slid beneath the hem of her skirt, trailing upward to the curve of her hip.

The familiar woody scent of his cologne, now mingled with something headier, clouded her senses.

Just as she felt herself slipping into the moment, a thought surfaced.

Her voice wavered with mockery and faint hurt. “Grandma’s drug must be amazing—to make you want someone you’re not even interested in.”

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