Jamison Ludwig’s expression didn’t change; he looked down at his hand as if the injury belonged to someone else. In a muted voice, he offered a simple
explanation. “It started bleeding again when I took a shower. The scab came off.”
But that wasn’t the truth.
He’d deliberately picked the scab off himself, and his intentions couldn’t have been clearer.
Ivy Windsor glanced at him, silent.
But when she took his hand and started disinfecting the wound with a cotton swab, she finally spoke, her tone cool and matter–of–fact. “You really think I’m stupid enough to fall for such a childish stunt?”
Jamison said nothing.
Still, even knowing he was faking it for sympathy, Ivy couldn’t bring herself to look away. After all, they were husband and wife–two people who truly loved each
other.
Arguments and anger aside, some things–like caring for him–weren’t negotiable.
At least for the past month, he’d been the picture of a devoted, attentive husband.
Jamison watched the way she worked, his gaze dark and intent, not even flinching at the sting of antiseptic.
Ivy looked up, only to catch the intensity of his stare. It burned into her, making her blink and quickly look away.
“How did you even manage this? With your hand in this state, does it affect your surgeries?” The silence between them felt oppressive, so Ivy broke it, her voice low. “It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Seeing she was finally talking to him, Jamison’s tense expression softened a little, though pain still creased his
brow.
“When I met you, you weren’t this reckless,” Ivy muttered.
“It was Farley Shepherd he went too far!” Jamison’s jaw clenched, his words sharp. “When I got there, he was shouting at Carla. Then he shoved her to the floor. I lost it. I just saw red and went after him.”
Chapter 701
Ivy pictured the scene and frowned.
“With your hand like this, I can only imagine what the other guy looks like. Aren’t you worried he’ll call the police and have you arrested?”
Jamison snorted. “He broke his nose, bled all over the place–and yes, he called the cops. I just got back from the station.”
“What?” Ivy’s eyes widened in shock as she looked up at him, frozen for a moment.
Her eyes, already large and luminous, seemed even more striking when she glanced up from under her lashes like that. The neckline of her pajama top dipped low, hinting at soft curves and a sultry allure that was impossible to ignore.
Jamison swallowed hard.
They were still fighting, and nothing was resolved, but that didn’t stop the rush of heat he felt looking at her now.
Ivy, for her part, didn’t notice. She was all business, her face set in a serious frown.
“How old are you? Still acting like a hotheaded teenager! Just because your family has money and influence doesn’t mean you can fix everything. If he presses charges, you could end up with a criminal record!”
Jamison pressed his lips together, looking for all the world like a chastised schoolboy. He didn’t try to defend himself.
Ever since their argument yesterday, he’d been in a foul mood with nowhere to vent. So when he saw his brother–in–law Farley Shepherd acting out–cheating, having an illegitimate son, then having the nerve to lay hands on Carla–Jamison lost control. His fists flew before he even realized what he was doing.
Farley became his punching bag.
Jamison, younger by nearly twenty years and much bigger, had left Farley with no chance to fight back. Even Carla had been stunned by the outburst, rushing to pull her brother away for fear
e’d do something he’d regret.
Yet seeing her brother defend her so fiercely, Carla’s heart warmed–her previous frustrations with him evaporated in an instant. Little did she know, Jamison’s anger had less to do with her and more to do with his own troubles at home.
Now, getting an earful from his wife, Jamison’s mouth drooped, making him look even more pitiful. After a pause, he offered a quiet explanation. “I was careful. I didn’t give him anything he could use against me.”
“Careful? You call this careful? I think you left your brain at the station Ivy retorted
Chapter 701
wrapping his hand in clean gauze and packing up the first aid kit.
She stood to leave when Jamison suddenly called out, “Honey!”
The word slipped out before he could stop himself, making Ivy pause in surprise–especially when she felt his hand close gently around her wrist.
He almost never called her that out loud, usually sticking to “Ivy,” so hearing the endearment now sent a jolt through her.
“What is it? Your hand is barely patched up–don’t you dare mess it up again,” Ivy said, trying to pull away without looking back.

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