The sudden commotion sent a ripple of unrest through the quiet library. When Ivy realized it was Lamont causing the disturbance, she signaled the bodyguards to let him go.
“What do you want now?” she asked, holding back her impatience. “About your sister, I’ve told you before—this is official business. If you’re dissatisfied, you’re welcome to file a complaint with the appropriate authorities.”
Lamont, face flushed with indignation, tried to step closer, but the two bodyguards glowering at him made him hesitate and hang back. Forced to keep his distance, he called out angrily, “My sister went to volunteer in some remote region! She’s just a young woman, heading off to a place that tough—God knows what she’ll have to endure. Did you people force her into this?”
Ivy was caught off guard. “Your sister went to volunteer in a remote area?”
She genuinely hadn’t known. Thinking back to that night, when she had finally worked up the nerve to make the first move—going so far as to unbutton his pajamas—only for him to coldly reject her, Jamison couldn’t help but feel like the worst kind of jerk. Besides, she had told him she just wanted to try out the internship first. Maybe after experiencing it, she’d change her mind. Since there was still room for her to reconsider, he really shouldn’t have let his frustration show so soon.
The more Jamison thought about it, the more regret gnawed at him. After a few seconds of silence, he shuffled closer to Ivy and draped an arm around her shoulders.
“Ivy?”
“I want to sleep,” Ivy replied, her eyes closed, her voice icy.
Jamison knew she was thin-skinned. Being rejected after putting herself out there must have stung. He tried to tread carefully. “It’s not that I don’t want you. Honestly, I’m just overwhelmed lately—so much going on, and my mind’s not in the right place.”
Ivy remained silent, not even bothering to call him out on his obvious excuse. Jamison understood her well. The fact that she didn’t even want to argue with him meant she was really angry this time. He swallowed, hesitated, then gently but insistently turned her to face him. Swallowing his pride—no, practically throwing it out the window—he continued, “But I’m feeling better now. I miss you. Can I hold you, please?”
His voice was soft as he tried to coax her, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. Ivy turned her head away. “I’m tired. I need to sleep. Stop bothering me.”
Her tone dripped with annoyance. She pushed him away and rolled over, her back to him once again. Jamison couldn’t help but chuckle at her puffed-up, angry expression. Even as he laughed, he apologized, “It’s my fault, okay? Don’t be mad, please?”
“I really do miss you. Can’t you tell?” He pressed closer, kissing her cheek, his body snug against her lower back.
Of course Ivy could tell.
This idiot.
Just moments ago, when she tried to comfort him, he acted all distant and aloof. Now that she was ignoring him, he stuck to her like glue.
“Jamison, stop pestering me!” she snapped, elbowing him hard.
He yelped and grimaced in pain, but was undeterred. He leaned in for more kisses, murmuring between them, “Still mad? If you are, you can keep hitting me.”
Ivy had no words for him.
The truth was, when two people truly loved each other, they both knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons. Noticing her silence—but also the way her body tensed and reacted under his touch—Jamison grinned, delighted. He once again pulled his stubborn wife back to face him. Then, rising over her, he kissed her deeply, his hands gentle but insistent.
Ivy realized resistance was futile. Her anger melted; she raised a hand to weakly slap at his chest. “Jamison, you’re shameless!”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Jamison agreed between kisses, his lips trailing down her neck, coaxing her to tip her head back for more.
“If you’re still angry, you can keep hitting me…” he encouraged, his kisses growing more fervent.
Ivy didn’t hold back. She pinched and swatted him, giving as good as she got. But this playful “battle” didn’t last long. Soon, her strength gave out, and all she could do was surrender to him, her body limp and pliant beneath his touch.
The next day, Ivy headed back to campus. She had a bodyguard with her; Jamison didn’t see her off personally. He really was swamped these days. There were so many patients in the ward, they’d run out of both rooms and beds. Micah was still unconscious. His mother had just been admitted with a new illness, and Carla was still on preventative medication. Thad Ludwig was busy managing the Ludwig family’s business empire, with ventures scattered across the country and overseas. He barely had time to care about family matters. Davina Foster was juggling her own job and trying to wrangle the Windsor family household and its two kids. She was stretched thin as well.
So everything at the hospital fell to Jamison. Ivy had offered to put off returning to school and stay to help, but he hadn’t agreed. After all, Emma was still in the hospital. If Ivy came to care for his mother, and Emma found out… Besides, he didn’t want Ivy tangled up in this mess. As long as she was safe and out of harm’s way, that was all the help he really needed.
Back at college, Ivy found herself thinking about Jamison more than ever. She called him often, sometimes multiple times a day. Most evenings, she had her bodyguard drive her back to the large apartment near the hospital. For the first time ever, she even asked the housekeeper for tips on simple home-cooked meals, hoping to have something ready for Jamison when he came home late from work. Life was chaotic, but there was warmth and light in the mess.
Another day, Ivy went to the library as usual, only to have Lamont Quinn jump out at her. “Ivy!”
Before he could get close, two burly campus security guards stepped in, holding him back on either side.
She doubted Jamison knew either—he’d been drowning in work lately, barely able to keep up with his own responsibilities, let alone pay attention to something like this. Lamont was unconvinced. “Don’t pretend. If no one pressured her, she never would’ve gone somewhere so far away and dangerous!”
“I’m not pretending,” Ivy replied, her voice even. “I really didn’t know anything about it.”
“Then it must’ve been your husband!”
“My husband has principles. He doesn’t use his position for personal vendettas. Your sister already paid the price for her actions; he wouldn’t kick her while she’s down.”
On this, Ivy was absolutely certain about Jamison’s character. He’d gone out of his way to help even people like Emma—there was no way he’d make things harder for Celeste Quinn. But Lamont still didn’t believe her. “You need to sort this out today, or I’ll go public. I’ll post about it online and let everyone know you’re abusing your power!”
Ivy could tolerate being harassed or falsely accused herself, but she wouldn’t allow anyone to smear Jamison’s name—especially not if Lamont’s rashness sparked a scandal.
After a moment’s thought, she turned and walked off. “I need to make a call.” She dialed Jamison’s number. Fortunately, he was available and answered right away.
“Hello, Ivy?”
“Did you know Celeste went to volunteer in a remote area?” Ivy asked, getting straight to the point.
Jamison paused. “No, I didn’t. But there was a recent group of medical volunteers sent to some rural areas—some doctors from our hospital included. Why?” After answering her question, he asked curiously, “How did you find out?”
Ivy sighed. “Celeste’s brother, Lamont, tracked me down at the library. He’s convinced you used your position to force her into going, and no matter how I explain, he won’t listen.”
Jamison’s tone grew serious. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. The bodyguards are here.”
“I’ll make some calls and get to the bottom of this. You don’t need to deal with him.”
“Alright.”
After hanging up, Ivy returned to Lamont and said calmly, “My husband truly didn’t know about this. If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing more I can say.”
Lamont eyed her warily, suspicion still flickering across his face. Ivy stood her ground, waiting him out, ready to stay until Jamison called back. But before that happened, Lamont’s phone rang.
“Hello, sis? Yeah, I found her! What? No way—you’re doing just fine at the hospital…” He didn’t finish his call before Ivy’s phone started buzzing—Jamison was calling back.
“I spoke with Celeste directly,” Jamison said briskly. “She’ll explain things to her brother. You don’t need to get involved. Go take care of your work.” Then, busy as ever, he hung up.
Meanwhile, Lamont was stunned by what his sister told him: she’d volunteered for the assignment herself. After a year in the rural program, she’d be eligible for a promotion—she wanted a shortcut to climb the ladder. On top of that, she was looking for a change of scenery, a way to distract herself and finally move on from her one-sided heartbreak.
When Lamont ended the call, his indignation faded, and he glanced at Ivy with a guilty expression. But Ivy was already walking toward the elevator, ready to head upstairs. He rushed after her, but a bodyguard stepped in to block his way.
“Ivy, I’m sorry! I accused you unfairly!” Lamont shouted after her, but Ivy didn’t even look back.