The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 791

When Ivy thought of the phrase “angel in white,” her mind flashed to his old online handle—“Dr. Handsome”—and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny? You don’t believe me?” Jamison asked, feigning offense.

“Of course I believe you,” Ivy replied, still grinning. “I was just remembering the first time I saw your username. I assumed you must be painfully ordinary—maybe even a middle-aged guy with a receding hairline and a beer belly. I mean, who else would call himself ‘Mr. Dreamboat’ unless he was overcompensating?” Ivy leaned back in his arms, her laughter light and easy as she reminisced.

“But turns out, I was dead wrong. Our Dr. Ludwig really is a miracle worker—and, well, ridiculously good looking.”

With a gentle squeeze, Jamison wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer until her chin tipped up toward him. He put on a mock-stern look. “And what other assumptions did you make about me? Come on, I want the full confession.”

“That’s it, honestly. I’m a saint; I’d never badmouth anyone behind their back,” Ivy replied, barely suppressing her laughter as she gazed up at his sculpted features.

From where she sat, his profile looked almost too perfect, as if carved by a master sculptor. Some people said that looking at beautiful faces was good for your health. If that was true, then sharing a bed with this man every night was probably an overdose.

“Oh, you’re a saint?” Jamison repeated, savoring the words. “Funny, because I distinctly remember you calling me a quack, saying all my credentials were just the result of family money, and accusing me of being cold and heartless. I remember everything, you know.”

Looking back, internet trolls were nothing compared to this. His very first—and most dedicated—critic was now his beloved wife and queen.

“Oh, come on. Why dwell on the past? They say time reveals a person’s true nature. We just didn’t know each other well enough back then.”

It was clear both of them were in high spirits today, relaxed enough to tease and flirt. Still, with a driver up front and the car not entirely private, Ivy eventually wriggled free of his grasp, settling for holding his hand instead.

“By the way, Baillie came by today for a work meeting,” she said, her tone turning more serious. “Afterward, she wanted to talk about something more personal.”

“What kind of personal?” Jamison’s brows knit together.

“She and the others are upset. Someone sent a disgusting, threatening package to the guy who wanted revenge for Emma. They were all freaked out, so of course, they grilled me—demanding to know if I’d done anything to investigate him, even accusing me of dragging my feet on purpose, as if I wanted him to retaliate against them.”

Ivy let out a cold laugh. “To them, I’m worse than a snake in the grass.”

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