No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 823

"Fine. I'll walk you back," Ian said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"No, thank you," Eleanor refused immediately.

The hotel was just across the street, and Kingston was a safe city.

Ian's brow furrowed. "I'd rather you didn't collapse in the middle of the street with no one around to help."

Eleanor was speechless. He had a point—she owed him for what happened—but she hated feeling dependent on anyone, especially her ex-husband.

"I won't trouble you," she insisted, feeling a bit steadier now. She touched her forehead; the fever was gone.

As Eleanor walked out of the hospital, Ian followed. At four in the morning, the main square was deserted. The wind was sharp and cold. Eleanor's cashmere coat wasn't enough to stop her from shivering. Behind her, Ian unbuttoned his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

The weight of it settled on her, carrying the distinct, masculine scent of cedar. She immediately reached up to shrug it off. "Take it back. I don't need it," she said coldly.

Before her fingers could touch the lapel, Ian's hand clamped down on her shoulder, holding the jacket in place. "Wear it," he commanded, his voice firm and unyielding.

Eleanor looked up, her gaze meeting his under the dim glow of a lamppost. Her eyes were like ice. "Take it back."

Her tone was even more forceful than his.

"Don't be difficult," Ian's voice softened, a hint of pleading in his tone. "You're still recovering from a fever. You can't afford to get a chill."

His hand remained steady on her shoulder, and she had to admit the fine wool of his jacket blocked the biting wind.

But she refused to be indebted to him and tried to wrench herself free.

Suddenly, Ian pulled the jacket tighter around her, then scooped her into his arms and started walking toward the five-star hotel across the square.

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