The Cold Surgeon's Contract Bride novel Chapter 37

Evidence?

I froze, my eyes dropping to the ointment in his hand as everything suddenly clicked into place.

He was threatening me.

Irritation flared in my chest. A mocking laugh slipped past my lips. "What a shame. When we bumped into each other in the garage, you really should have pulled out your phone and snapped a picture for proof."

I actually ended the sentence with a playful, sarcastic lilt.

Ferris's pupils contracted. He clearly hadn't expected me to fire back with sarcasm, and his composed expression cracked for a split second.

While he was distracted, I darted my hand out, snatched the ointment back, and twisted the cap off right in front of him.

The burn was real. I wasn't going to neglect my own body just because he was throwing a tantrum.

I had catered to his every whim for the past three years, and the man hadn't shown a shred of appreciation. Starting today, I was putting myself first.

With that thought anchoring me, I squeezed out some ointment and carefully applied it to the burn.

But the back of my neck was a blind spot. I wiped at it twice using the mirror, but I just couldn't rub it in evenly.

Just as I started to fumble with it, an arm banded tightly around my waist, lifting me effortlessly off the ground—Ferris had hoisted me right onto the bathroom counter.

I blinked in total shock. A second later, a cool sensation brushed against my neck. His calloused fingertips traced over my skin, the familiar yet foreign touch sending a violent shiver down my spine.

Ferris was actually applying the ointment for me.

I curled my fingers inward, silently averting my gaze, but a traitorous blush crept up my neck anyway.

I had no idea what kind of twisted game he was playing, but being trapped in his personal space put me instantly on edge.

We were so close. Close enough that I could feel the faint brush of his breath, close enough that if I just raised my eyes, I could see the hard lines of his chest beneath his unbuttoned shirt.

A flash of our passionate nights together flooded my mind, and in that split second, my breathing hitched.

"Thank... thank you, Dr. Sterling."

I tried to pull away from his touch, desperately attempting to maintain my composure. But the moment the words left my throat, they sounded breathless and raw, utterly betraying my flustered state.

I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration, my eyelashes trembling, when Ferris whispered, "Just helping out. No need to be so polite, Mrs. Sterling."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify