No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1541

Eleanor looked away, stubbornly refusing to admit it. "No."

Ian pressed closer, refusing to let her off the hook. "Were you worried about me?"

His eyes were intensely serious, swirling with a heavy dose of affection.

She took a deep breath and shot him an exasperated glare. She wasn't genuinely angry, just incredibly annoyed by how childish he was being.

A thirty-year-old man, still playing eighteen-year-old mind games.

Ian threw his head back and laughed, thoroughly enjoying her reaction, before turning to speak with the engineers.

"Mr. Goodwin, how was it?" the chief engineer asked eagerly.

Ian dropped the smirk and instantly slipped back into absolute professionalism, delivering a flawless, technical breakdown of the drive.

Listening from the sidelines, Eleanor didn't understand half the jargon, but she could easily feel the sheer excitement radiating from the group as they passionately debated the engineering specs.

It was almost eleven-thirty. Byron offered to take the engineers out for lunch, while Ian walked back over to Eleanor. "Let's go. I made a reservation."

A sleek black SUV was waiting for them at the entrance. Once inside, Ian instinctively loosened his collar and leaned his head back against the seat, a faint trace of exhaustion shadowing his features.

Pushing a car to its absolute limits wasn't just physically draining; it took a massive toll mentally, too.

Eleanor turned to look at him, remembering the reckless, fiercely aggressive way he had driven on the track. A thought struck her.

For men like him, was that kind of controlled insanity just a desperate way to blow off steam?

The restaurant Ian had chosen felt immediately familiar. It was the exact same private dining club she had visited previously with Mansfield Ellington.

The place was steeped in historical elegance, boasting a stunning courtyard with ornate pavilions and lush greenery. She followed Ian into an exclusive, private dining room.

Ian picked up his teacup and took a slow sip. He didn't answer immediately. Turning to look out the window at the garden, he leaned back in his chair and finally let out a soft sigh. "Yeah. I've been pretty exhausted lately."

"Is it work?" she pressed.

"Partly," he admitted, setting his cup down. Then, he raised his eyes, staring deeply into hers. "There's also something else driving me crazy."

He didn't spell it out, but she knew exactly what he meant.

Eleanor looked away, refusing to give him a direct answer. She picked up her own teacup and took a small sip. "You need to relax. Some things can't be rushed."

His eyes melted with absolute fondness. "I know. I'm not rushing you. We'll take it at whatever pace you're comfortable with. You take your time thinking, and I'll take my time waiting."

"Okay," she murmured softly.