No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1607

Even when she had no idea their daughter suffered from a genetic illness, this man had stood in the shadows, protecting them both in his own silent, steadfast way. From the very beginning to this moment, he had never once crossed her bottom line.

That realization was the true catalyst for their reconciliation.

Ian buried his face into the crook of her neck, nuzzling against her skin. His arm tightened around her waist. Stripped of his ruthless exterior, he looked like a massive, fiercely protective beast that had finally found its way home, seeking only her forgiveness, trust, and affection.

"I swear, from now on, I'll tell you everything. No more hiding. If I ever keep anything from you again, let me—"

Before he could finish, she pressed her fingers against his lips, silencing him. "Don't make stupid vows."

His thick eyelashes fluttered as he looked up at her, pressing a tender kiss against her palm. Her heart instantly melted into a puddle.

"Okay," she finally said.

He froze for a second, almost entirely unable to process that she had actually agreed. But when he saw the unwavering sincerity in her eyes, a breathtaking smile broke across his face, warm and radiant as the morning sun.

He pulled her flush against his chest, burying his face in her hair as he kissed her deeply.

He was never letting her go again.

"Did you even sleep last night?" she asked him softly.

"Yeah, I slept," he murmured with a low chuckle, his eyes closed. The truth was, before hearing those words fall from her lips, he had spent the few hours they weren't entangled tossing and turning, agonizing over what she would say.

Now, the suffocating tension had finally shattered. He could finally rest.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, pulling back slightly.

She checked in with her body and realized she was starving. She nodded. "A little."

"Let's eat, then we'll stay here and rest for one more night. Our flight is tomorrow afternoon." He glanced down at the unmistakable bruises blooming across her pale neck, a deeply arrogant smirk playing on his lips.

His masterpiece.

She had zero intention of moving anyway. She was completely exhausted, and the view here was gorgeous.

After eating, she took a long shower and sat out on the second-floor balcony. They had supposedly come here to admire the autumn leaves, but she was only just now managing to catch a glimpse of the sunset over the maples.

"I'm not asleep," he mumbled, his voice thick and husky. "I don't want to waste time sleeping."

She looked down at him. To the rest of the world, he was a ruthless titan of the investment industry, a terrifyingly powerful entrepreneur. But right now, with her, he was just a possessive man pinning her hand to his cheek, refusing to let go.

"Ian Goodwin," she whispered.

"Drop the last name," he grumbled without opening his eyes.

"Don't catch a cold out here. Let's go to bed," she coaxed.

He snapped his eyes open. Though slightly bloodshot, they were dangerously sharp and blazing with heat. He sat up immediately, interlacing his fingers with hers. "Alright. Let's go to bed."

Seeing the predatory shift in his gaze, her face instantly flushed hot. "Control yourself."

"A little pre-sleep workout is the best cure for insomnia," he laughed darkly, scooping her effortlessly into his arms. He didn't say another word, simply holding her impossibly tight, fully intending to spend every second of the night making up for five years of agonizing starvation.

At this rate, he was going to burn through an entire box of protection in just two nights.