No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1387

It was the deep-seated, never-fading desire for her.

Finally, the song ended. "I'd like to get some fresh air," Eleanor said to him.

Ian looked at her flushed cheeks and nodded slightly. "Okay, I'll go with you."

The view outside the hall was lovely, with a man-made lake shimmering under the moonlight.

Eleanor sat on a bench by the lake, and Ian stood quietly beside her, both enjoying the evening scenery.

Ian had taken off his suit jacket and was holding it over his arm. A light sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead. He ran a hand through his hair, finally allowing himself a moment of relaxation.

Eleanor thought of something and looked up to ask, "Would it be possible to invite Mr. Dewitt to dinner tomorrow?"

Ian was taken aback for a few seconds. "You want to see Mr. Dewitt?"

"Once I return home, I'll be starting my research. I'd like to personally thank him for investing in my project," Eleanor said sincerely.

Ian swallowed, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something.

But in the end, he just said in a low voice, "Alright, I'll extend the invitation for you."

Eleanor looked up and thanked him.

By the time they returned to the hall, the dance was over. Ella's group was still drinking, and Eleanor and Ian were pulled over to join them. This time, it was red wine. After a round of toasts, Eleanor found herself on her second glass.

"El, you're an incredible person. You were the first to succeed with the Neural Interface Project, and you developed the cure for the spherical virus. It's amazing. I toast to you," a middle-aged scholar said, his expression full of admiration.

Eleanor smiled and clinked her glass with his. In academia, results spoke for themselves, and there was no doubt that Eleanor was a powerhouse in this room.

When they finally reached the hotel, the bright lights made Eleanor's cheeks appear even redder after their walk. Her eyes were misty, with a hint of alluring charm.

As they stepped into the elevator, two strangers stared openly at Eleanor, their gazes brazenly appreciative.

Ian's eyes grew cold. He stepped deliberately between her and the men, his broad back blocking their intrusive view.

Eleanor understood why he did it. She pressed herself against the elevator wall, her eyes downcast.

Finally, they reached their floor. Ian gestured with his arm, and Eleanor stepped out first.

At the door to her room, she spoke first. "Let's just go back to our own rooms and rest."

Listening to her voice, soft and warm from the alcohol, Ian swallowed hard. His gaze lingered on her, thick with emotion. "Goodnight."