Chapter 237
Ivy, who’d always been quick–witted and bold, found her mind going utterly blank Her tongue felt heavy, and she couldn’t string a sentence together.
Jamison eased away just a bit, but he was still lying on his side next to her. Propping his head up with one hand, he gave her a teasing, lopsided grin.
“Relax. I didn’t do anything to you. You were shivering and mumbling about how cold you were, so I just held you so you’d warm up. I was basically your personal space heater. Nothing more.”
Ivy’s cheeks flamed red, and she was too flustered to speak.
But as she followed his words, fragments of memory flickered in her mind. “I think… I must’ve been dreaming. I remember bits and pieces from the past three years-”
“I know. You don’t have to explain. I get it.” Jamison was still lounging there, a mischievous, almost wicked smile curving his lips. “Work’s been crazy lately, and I was exhausted too. Figured I’d keep you company while you slept.”
Ivy just stared at him, speechless.
Jamison let the silence linger, then flashed her another grin. “Well, now that we’ve shared a bed, you’re not planning to just cast me aside, are you?” He reached for her slender hand, gently playing with her fingers, his gaze full of playful challenge.
Ivy’s reply was instinctive. “That doesn’t count as sharing a bed!” she protested.
He looked genuinely thoughtful. “Oh? Then what does?” He glanced down at himself, frowning theatrically. “Maybe I wore too many clothes?”
“Jamison!” Ivy yanked her hand free from his and swatted him, her face burning even more.
Jamison only laughed, the sound low and wicked.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Ivy finally remembered the reason she’d woken in the first place. “What time is it?”
Jamison rolled over to grab his phone, brow furrowing as he checked the screen. “It’s eight thirty.”
“That late? Why are you still here?” The question slipped out before Ivy could stop herself.
1/3
16:47
Jamison’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if to say– eager to get rid of me?
Ivy pressed her lips together, feeling suddenly sheepish.
He stood, grabbing his phone. “You haven’t eaten yet. I’ll get something delivered. With that, he left the room to make a call.
Watching his retreating figure, Ivy finally felt her nerves settle, though her heart was still pounding in her chest. She glanced at his indentation on the pillow, cheeks burning hotter, and pressed the back of her hand to her face to cool herself,
Outside, the rain was finally letting up. Ivy told herself that after dinner, surely he’d be on his way.
A little after nine, dinner arrived.
Jamison called up the stairs for her, and Ivy, having changed into fresh clothes, made her way down. Though the pain was almost gone, her back and sides still ached, and her legs felt shaky. She moved slowly, every step careful.
Jamison pulled out a chair for her and asked gently, “Still not feeling well?”
“I’m okay. Much better now…”
“Have something to eat. You’ll feel even better once you’ve got something in your
stomach.”
“Thanks,” she replied quietly.
He shot her a sidelong glance, grinning. “Why so polite? It’s not every day I get to take care of you. Really, I should be the one saying thank you.”
Ivy dropped her gaze and sipped her soup, saying nothing more.
She wondered what she had done to deserve this–Mr. Jamison, putting work aside just to look after her, even thanking her for the privilege. It all felt surreal, like something out of a dream. When she woke up, surely life would go back to normal. She didn’t even know what kind of soup he’d ordered for her. It had a faint herbal aroma, and by the time she’d finished most of the bowl, warmth spread through her body, chasing away the last of her discomfort.
Jamison watched the color return to her cheeks, a small, satisfied smile on his lips. He reached over to offer her more food. “Eat up. You’ve lost weight these past few days. Ms. Lester entrusted you to me before she left on her business trip. If you get sick or lose any more weight, I won’t be able to answer to her.”
2/2
16:47
Ivy glanced up at him, puzzled. “Katrina talked to you before she left?”
He shook his head. “No, not recently. But the last time we all had dinner together, didn’t she ask me to look after you?”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “She was joking.”
“I wasn’t.”
That left her silent.
The conversation faded, and Ivy kept eating until she was halfway full. Suddenly, the events from earlier that morning crept back into her mind. She glanced at Jamison, hesitated, then put down her fork.
Noticing her unease, Jamison asked, “What is it? Something on your mind?”
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