No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1513

"You have water at your place," Eleanor pointed out, deliberately calling his bluff.

Ian gave a helpless smile. "You know I don't just want water. I just want to spend some time with you."

"It's late, and I have to work," she frowned, rejecting him.

"I promise I won't disturb you. I'll just sit for a bit and leave," he insisted, genuinely reluctant to go.

Eleanor left the door open and walked back to the sofa. She picked up a half-finished research paper, her fingers resuming their typing. Wearing blue-light-blocking glasses, she looked intensely focused.

Ian brought over two glasses of water. Watching her with her hair casually pinned up and glasses on, she exuded a deep, intellectual elegance. Yet, there was a sharp edge to her that made him want to pull her close, while simultaneously keeping him at bay.

Under the lights, she perfectly embodied grace and sophistication.

He sat in the armchair opposite her, stretching out his long legs. Spotting a book next to her, he picked it up to browse.

It was a dense medical text in German, filled with her handwritten notes.

"You know German? When did you learn it?" he asked curiously.

"Joel taught me, and I self-studied a bit," she replied without looking up.

Ian fell silent. Her learning capacity and talent for languages were extraordinary.

He looked at her focused profile. She was completely immersed in her work, a sight that fascinated him but also brought a faint trace of melancholy.

He set the book down, took a sip of water, and stopped bothering her. Still, he couldn't bear to leave.

He simply sat there, keeping her company.

Eleanor finally finished. She took off her glasses and rubbed her temples. Ian immediately asked, concern lacing his voice, "Are you exhausted? Should you get some rest?"

"I'm fine. This paper was just on a tight deadline," she said, finally seeming to notice he was still there. "You should head back and get some sleep too."

He suddenly stood up. She thought he was leaving, but instead, he stepped behind her. Before she could react, his large hands began gently kneading her neck and shoulders. Her body stiffened instantly, her instincts telling her to pull away.

"Don't move. Just relax," he murmured softly. The pressure was perfect, expertly working out the knots in her shoulders.

Feeling the tension melt away, she finally let go of her tight posture. She furrowed her brow, swallowing the rejection that had been on the tip of her tongue.

They used to be incredibly intimate, but after three years apart, that familiarity had faded into distance.

Still, after clearing up all their misunderstandings, she no longer resented him. It was just going to take time to adjust to his touch again.

She closed her eyes, letting his hands work their magic. The room was perfectly still, filled only by the faint sound of their breathing.

Feeling her relax, he kept massaging and spoke softly. "Work is important, but so is your health. Don't push yourself too hard."

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