Chapter 186

The icy water cascaded over them both, drenching their clothes instantly.

Adrian shuddered violently as the freezing liquid seeped through his shirt, his jaw tightening. "This is your brilliant solution?" he ground out between clenched teeth.

Vivian remained unfazed as she moved toward the bathtub, twisting the faucet to release more cold water.

"It works in all the romance dramas," she stated with clinical detachment. "Cold water suppresses desire. Trust me - I've written enough scripts to know." A faint smirk played on her lips as she added, "Research is part of my job."

The soaked fabric of her dress clung to her body like a second skin, revealing every tantalizing curve with startling clarity.

As she leaned forward to adjust the water flow, the graceful arch of her back and the tempting swell of her hips captured Adrian's attention, stealing the breath from his lungs.

The vision, combined with the relentless heat of the drug still burning through his veins, shattered the last remnants of his restraint.

Adrian's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his control disintegrating as he closed the distance between them.

His large hands found purchase on her waist, fingers pressing deliberately into the damp fabric, the heat of his touch searing through the wet material.

Bending close enough that his breath ghosted over her ear, he growled in a voice rough with need, "Vivian... I need you."

A violent tremor racked Vivian's body, her knees nearly buckling beneath her. She twisted free from Adrian's grasp, hastily kicking off her heels before plunging into the half-filled tub with desperate urgency.

Curling into herself, she let the frigid water rise to her collarbones, but it did nothing to quench the firestorm raging within her - a dizzying paradox of ice and flame.

Adrian's gaze burned into her with predatory intensity, the hunger in his dark eyes threatening to devour her whole.

Rational thought abandoned him, consumed by primal need. He no longer cared whether it was the drug or something more profound - all that mattered was claiming her. She was his wife. Why should he resist?

With that realization, he reached for her, pulling her effortlessly into his arms. His voice dropped to a velvet murmur. "This won't work. You'll only catch pneumonia."

His hands moved with purpose - one arm locking around her waist while the other slipped beneath the soaked hem of her skirt, tracing upward along the curve of her thigh.

The familiar spice of his cologne, now laced with something darker and more intoxicating, overwhelmed her senses.

Just as she felt herself surrendering to the moment, a bitter thought surfaced.

Her voice trembled with barely concealed hurt. "Grandmother's potion must be incredibly potent... to make you want someone you can't stand."