No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1475

"Joel risked his life to save me. That's a massive debt. I need time to think of the best way to repay him, but it is absolutely not the way you're implying."

Ian's eyes visibly brightened. "I understand."

He had let his paranoia get the better of him and pushed her too hard.

They stepped into the elevator. Eleanor pressed the button for the twenty-eighth floor. When Ian didn't press the button for the twenty-seventh, she reached over and pressed it for him.

"Do you have any more sleeping pills at your place? Give me another pack," Ian suddenly asked.

Eleanor turned to look at him, surprise flashing in her eyes. "Did you finish the whole pack I gave you last time?"

A glint of amusement flickered in his eyes. "Why? Is there a problem?"

"I don't think you should be taking sleeping pills anymore. You need to see a doctor. If your insomnia is this bad, it's serious. I told you, you can't overdose on these things." Eleanor wasn't joking around. Was this man eating pills like candy?

Ian blinked, then sighed in resignation. "I don't know where I tossed the last pack. I lost it."

In other words, he hadn't finished them at all—he just didn't know where they were.

Eleanor gave him a speechless look. "I don't have any left, either. Have Gavin Young bring you some."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Eleanor suddenly realized that he didn't actually want sleeping pills. He just wanted to test her reaction.

She looked up and, sure enough, found herself staring into a pair of deep, smiling eyes.

"It seems Dr. Sutton still cares about me," he teased in a low, rumbling voice.

Eleanor looked away, focusing on the changing floor numbers above the door. "Are you really that bored?"

Ian let out a soft sigh. "If you don't give me any, I probably—won't be able to sleep again tonight."

The double meaning in his words hung in the air, radiating an unspoken, grown-up kind of tension.

A flash of mock grievance crossed Ian's eyes. "Aren't you going to invite me in for a glass of water?"

Not this again!

Eleanor fought the urge to roll her eyes. He really never ran out of excuses.

"It's late," Eleanor said, reaching out to shove him aside.

Ian cooperatively stepped aside, the amusement in his eyes softening into a profound tenderness. "Eleanor," he suddenly called her name, his voice husky. "Thank you for tonight."

Before she could respond, he continued, "Thank you for coming to my birthday dinner, giving me a gift, driving me home, and even worrying about my medication—"

Eleanor froze. Just as she was about to open the door, he reached out and stopped her again. "In the future, if I say the wrong thing, do something stupid, or upset you... could you maybe—bear with me a little? Give me some time to learn how to be better at—loving you."

Eleanor's breath caught in her throat. What was he saying?