Ivy’s brows drew together in a faint scowl, her expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell me any of this. Whoever you care about is none of my business, and whether Emma lives or dies has nothing to do with me.”
Micah’s already battered face looked even more dejected at her cold indifference, a pitiful figure if there ever was one.
But Ivy no longer felt any sympathy for him–she’d learned the hard way that those who invite pity often have only themselves to blame.
An awkward silence fell, neither of them willing to speak.
Jamison didn’t feel like exchanging a single word with his nephew, either. He simply offered his arm to Ivy and led her away without looking back.
Micah finally snapped out of his stupor and called after them, his voice cracking, “Ivy, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have doubted you, shouldn’t have let Emma deceive me. I let you down…”
Ivy heard him as she walked away, but the words only made her scoff inwardly.
It was all ancient history. Only now did he finally see the truth about Emma–and about her. But time doesn’t run backward, and there’s no undoing what’s been
done.
By the time they got home, it was well past midnight. Ivy had dozed off in the car, lulled by exhaustion.
When the car rolled into the garage, Jamison glanced at the sleeping beauty beside him, debating whether to carry her upstairs or gently wake her.
But Ivy stirred as soon as the engine cut out. She startled awake, catching Jamison leaning toward her.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, blinking in surprise.
“Nothing…” Jamison straightened up. “We’re home.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes. “Were you planning to carry me upstairs?”
He gave a sheepish,nod. “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.”
She shot him an exasperated glare. “Honestly! Your back’s still injured–could you at least try to be careful?”
07.27 W
ShopICI
The driver was still up front, and Jamison, not wanting to lose face, shot her a meaningful glance.
Ivy caught the look but feigned ignorance. “Why are you making faces? If you’ve got something to say, say it!”
He sighed, resigned. “Forget it. Let’s just go inside.”
As soon as they walked through the front door, Jamison’s phone rang.
He glanced at the screen–work. “It’s late, you go get ready for bed. I need to take this call.”
Ivy was too tired to argue, murmured her agreement, and headed for the bedroom.
She’d barely slipped out of her dress when Jamison entered, making her jump. Instinctively, she clutched her robe tighter.
“Ever heard of knocking?” she snapped, cheeks flushed and eyes darting away.
Jamison grinned, taking his time as he strode over to her. “Do I really need to be so formal in my own house?”
The closer he got, the farther Ivy backed away–until her knees hit the edge of the bed. She gave a little yelp, nearly tumbling over.
Quick as ever, Jamison caught her arm, steadying her before she could fall.
“You… you should leave! I’m going to shower. When I’m done, you can have the bathroom.” Even now, she kept her arms wrapped protectively across her chest, so embarrassed she could barely get the words out.
Where his hand had gripped her arm, her skin tingled, the warmth spreading all the way to her heart.
Jamison’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze drawn helplessly to her flawless, porcelain skin. Desire flickered in his eyes, but he forced himself to look
away.
“Don’t worry about it. Go ahead and shower, then get some sleep,” he said in a low, rough voice, fighting to keep his composure.
Ivy’s beautiful eyes were clouded with confusion. “What do
you mean?”
“There’s been a bad car accident. I need to head to the hospital–one of the patients is in critical condition,” Jamison explained.
Her expression turned serious. “But your back isn’t healed. How can you operate?”
07:27
Chapter 408
“I’m just consulting on the case–helping determine the best treatment plan. If necessary, I’ll assist, but I’m not the lead surgeon tonight.”