No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 47

Several times while kicking the ball around, Ian's gaze drifted unconsciously toward the sofa.

Upstairs, Eleanor finished answering emails and didn't come back down until dinnertime.

Joslyn's cooking was exceptional, and Evelyn adored her creative dishes—both girls' cheeks were looking a little rounder these days.

After dinner, Eleanor's phone rang. It was Jude Vaughn, calling about a paper the lab was about to publish. Jude had assigned the writing to Eleanor; the paper would be presented at an academic conference and was important for boosting the lab's reputation.

"Jude, leave it to me! I promise I'll have it done by Friday," Eleanor replied confidently.

"I've already listed you as a sophomore at Ashford Medical University and put your name under Dr. Lyman's group. That should put any future questions about your credentials to rest."

Eleanor laughed. "Thank you, Jude."

"No need. I'll wait for your paper. And don't forget—the team meeting is the day after tomorrow. Make sure you come early. Everyone from the lab will be there."

"I will," Eleanor replied with a smile.

Later, she headed downstairs to Ian's room to find her daughter, when she heard the phone ringing inside. Evelyn's voice carried through the door, "Dad, it's Mrs. Shannon calling."

Eleanor paused at the threshold. Ian answered, his tone gentle. "What's wrong?"

"Still hurting?"

"Do you want me to take you to the hospital to get something for it?"

"I'll be more careful next time."

"It's my fault."

Eleanor didn't want to listen to any more. Anyone who'd been married would understand the kind of conversation she was overhearing.

Sometime after midnight, a knock sounded at the door. Eleanor assumed it was Joslyn, still awake.

But it was Ian, leaning against the doorway, his voice low. "It's late."

Eleanor silently closed her files, shut down the computer, and stood up to leave the study.

Ian watched her ignore him and head downstairs. His brow furrowed. "Come to my room."

Without looking back, Eleanor refused. "I'm tired."

Suddenly, Ian stepped swiftly down the stairs. As Eleanor reached the last step, his hand closed around her wrist. He pulled her toward his bedroom.

A surge of resistance flashed in Eleanor's eyes. She struggled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let go of me."

Ignoring her protests, Ian all but dragged her toward the master bedroom. In a flash of anger, Eleanor bit down hard on the back of his hand.