Carrie found herself unexpectedly enveloped in Kristopher’s arms, her cold cheek pressed against his broad, rain-dampened chest. The sudden warmth of his body sent a momentary surge of panic through her.
She tilted her head upward, locking eyes with him. His gaze, sharp and unyielding. pierced through her like a blade searching for weakness.
That look-she had always dreaded it. It was a mirror reflecting her vulnerability, a look that used to dissolve her resolve and draw out playful coaxing words she didn’t know she possessed.
But not anymore. Love, once the anchor to her fear of upsetting him, had long since
eroded.
Now, only a brittle defiance remained.
7
Her voice, now ice-cold, cut through the silence. “Mr. Norris, your memory must be playing tricks on you. I’ve told you plenty of times-I have no interest in entangling myself with my almost ex-husband.”
She squirmed in his arms, trying to break free, but his grip tightened as if she were sand slipping through his fingers.
The scent of rain-soaked wood and a faint herbal aroma clung to him, stirring a pang of something she quickly suppressed. Her annoyance flared as she realized how easily his presence unsettled her.
it’s
Kristopher’s hand steadied her shoulder and thigh, holding her in place as he spoke, his tone calm yet unyielding. “Divorce isn’t a breakup, Carrie. As long as I don’t agree,
not happening.”
She stilled, glaring at him. “Is this a game to you? Some twisted way of passing time?”
Instead of answering, his eyes drifted around her room, taking in the scattered scripts and manuscripts that cluttered the space.
