No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 696

He was deliberately keeping her away from Xavier.

There weren’t many things this man cared about, but his pride and dignity were chief among them.

So even if Eleanor spent time with other men, Ian rarely interfered. But when it came to Xavier, it was as if she’d crossed an invisible line—one that went straight to his nerve.

“See you later, Eleanor,” Xavier said gently as she left. His voice was soft, just for her.

Eleanor nodded and stepped outside, catching the resort’s shuttle that took her to Villa Eight.

The villa was spacious and bright, filled with the warmth of its natural wood decor. Evelyn dashed excitedly into the largest bedroom. “This is where Mom and I will sleep!” she announced, then scampered toward the guest room. “And this is Dad’s room!”

Eleanor hadn’t unpacked yet; she kept glancing at her phone, as if waiting for some news.

She was expecting a call from the front desk.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit? The front desk will contact you if there’s any update.” Ian’s deep voice broke the quiet.

Ten minutes later, Eleanor’s phone rang—a local number.

“Hello?” she answered quickly.

“Hello, ma’am. We have a standard room available. Would you like to take it?”

“Yes, I do. I need it,” Eleanor replied in a rush, as if a moment’s hesitation might cost her the room.

“Great, please come to the lobby to check in,” said the receptionist.

“I’ll be right there,” Eleanor answered, barely able to hide her relief.

Ian overheard her, noting the way the tension drained from her face, his eyes darkening a shade.

“Is it another villa?” he asked, concern slipping into his tone.

“A standard room,” Eleanor replied flatly.

“I’ll move over there. You and Evelyn should stay here,” Ian said, standing with quiet resolve.

“That’s not necessary,” Eleanor said, unwilling to accept the gesture.

“This place is big, comfortable—perfect for you and Evelyn,” he insisted, determined to leave the villa for them.

Without waiting for further protest, Ian left. A moment later, Gavin arrived to collect his luggage. “Mr. Goodwin has reserved a table for six o’clock at the restaurant. Miss Sutton, please bring Evelyn and be on time,” he said politely.

Just then, snow began to drift from the sky, dusting Eleanor’s blue knit hat. She tilted her head back to look up, and for a moment, Xavier just looked at her. From where he stood, he could see her profile—delicate features, the tip of her nose tinged pink from the cold, lips soft and full. For a heartbeat, she seemed to glow with gentle warmth.

He knew he had no right to love her, but some part of him wouldn’t let go of the hope that maybe, just maybe, she could be his.

Xavier was well aware that the smart thing would be to walk away before his feelings got too deep. But matters of the heart were never that simple.

Eleanor was the first woman who’d ever made him want to throw caution aside, even knowing it might all lead nowhere.

“Ah-choo!” Eleanor sneezed suddenly, shivering.

Xavier immediately noticed she’d come outside without a scarf. He unwound his own cashmere scarf and gently draped it around her neck. “Winters are harsh here—don’t catch a cold.”

Before Eleanor could protest, the scarf was already snug around her.

“Xavier, you don’t need to—” she began, reaching to return it.

But Xavier placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. At that moment, he caught sight of someone across the snowy lawn; his gentle demeanor shifted, his tone suddenly more possessive. “Don’t take it off.”

Not far away, a tall figure in a dark overcoat stood out against the snow—Ian had arrived.

At his side, Gavin asked in a low voice, “Mr. Goodwin, should we go over?”