Chapter 8

Emmanuel hurried to help Mackenzie up, but he stopped abruptly, sensing an intimidating aura around her. He hesitated, wondering if he should touch her. Looking at the motionless woman, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead, he finally mustered his courage and lifted her. To his surprise, she felt much lighter than he expected for someone five and a half feet tall; he reckoned she weighed only about one hundred and ten pounds.

"Don't touch me!" Mackenzie glared at him, a steely look despite the pain. It was nothing compared to her aversion to being touched by a man, let alone carried by one. Goosebumps erupted across her body the moment Emmanuel touched her.

He evaded her hostile gaze and gently placed her on the couch. "Just look at you," he said. "You don't eat regularly. That's why you have stomach flu."

Wait. How does he even know that? We've only known each other for a day!

Mackenzie was taken aback by his knowledge of her, but before she could respond, Emmanuel lifted her nightgown.

"What do you think you're doing? I'll kill you!" she exploded, twisting his arm. She wouldn't let him take advantage of her; she was a Quillen, and a lifelong martial artist.

Despite the pain, Emmanuel didn't fight back. "I'm just trying to help ease your pain," he explained, gritting his teeth.

Looks can be deceiving. She's not ladylike at all, despite how gorgeous she is!

"Aren't you a gynecologist? Do you know internal medicine, too?" Mackenzie doubted him, but another sharp spasm of pain forced her to release him and clutch her stomach.

"I can call 911 if you don't trust me, but you'll have to endure the pain until you reach the hospital."

Mackenzie reached for her phone, unwilling to swallow her pride and let Emmanuel help, but seeing her curl up in pain, he swept her phone aside and knelt before her. He lifted her gown, and this time, she didn't stop him. She decided to trust him, figuring she could deal with him later if he took advantage.

Meanwhile, Emmanuel's heart pounded as he saw Mackenzie's legs. He gulped, unconsciously lifting her skirt. As a gynecologist, he'd never felt such attraction to a woman, but he quickly composed himself, rubbing his hands before warming her stomach with his palms.

"Urgh…" Mackenzie felt a rush of warmth dispel the pain. Emmanuel repeated the gesture, massaging her lower abdomen.

Oh, her abs are tight and toned. She must work out regularly.

"What is this?" Mackenzie asked, biting her lip. She'd always abhorred men's touch, but this felt different. Although distaste remained, she also felt good and embarrassed—a perplexing combination.

"I'm applying pressure to your acupoints," Emmanuel answered, avoiding eye contact, though he couldn't help stealing glances at her legs.

She's truly a work of art!

Little did he know, Mackenzie was watching his every move.

I knew it. This man is finally showing his true colors. They all pretend to be gentlemen before marriage, but all men are the same—perverts.

"How are you feeling?" Emmanuel asked.

"I'm fine. Stop touching me," Mackenzie said coldly.

Emmanuel obeyed, but then added, "What's with this aversion? I'm your husband. I'm trying to help."

Mackenzie scoffed.

Seriously? I don't understand why human reproduction has to be between a man and a woman. I bet other women feel uncomfortable about it, too!

"Let me make you something to eat. And don't work overtime on an empty stomach," Emmanuel said, standing.

"Are you doing this as a doctor or a husband?" she asked indifferently.

"Is that important?"

Pfft. Does she have to be so serious?

Mackenzie ignored him and said, "I'm going to bed at eleven, so don't disturb me."

Emmanuel rolled his eyes. Getting along with a company executive is harder than working at the hospital.

Ten minutes later, he knocked on her door with a plate of spaghetti with egg. Mackenzie was baffled.

"Did you buy the ingredients? Wait. Do you cook?"

"Of course I bought groceries. Your kitchen is empty. Do you think the food fell from heaven?" He entered, placing the plate on the table. "Eat it while it's warm. You shouldn't eat anything cold."

"Are you seriously telling me what to do?" Mackenzie asked, amused. She wasn't used to a man telling her what to do.

I'm the CEO of Terence Group. Who dares to boss me around?

"It's a friendly reminder," Emmanuel replied sternly. "You're my wife, and my patient, so listen to me."

Mackenzie frowned, then gave up arguing and began to eat. Seeing the simple meal, she frowned again.

"Is this even edible?"

"You won't die from a tasteless meal, but you'll suffer if you go through the night with an empty stomach!" Emmanuel was losing his patience with her intractability.

Finally, Mackenzie twirled the pasta. She chewed slowly, then her face changed.

"Mm! This is pretty good. I hope I don't gain weight from an occasional late-night treat," she commented.

For the first time, she thought living with a man wasn't entirely bad.

I guess a woman will always be a woman. She might be a misandrist, but she still cares about her body image, just like all women. Her beauty is everything.

"I'm done. Is this fine?" Mackenzie asked, like a patient seeking approval after two bites.

Emmanuel was exasperated.

I can't understand how someone can be this difficult! I made this for her, and she only takes two bites!

He held his frustration and cleared the plate before leaving.

"By the way," he said near the door, "when are you free to go home with me? My mom would love to meet you." His heart thudded anxiously awaiting her answer.