Katrina immediately stepped back, ushering him in. “Please, come inside.”

Jamison entered and headed for the stairs, but Katrina, still uneasy, called after him, “Dr. Ludwig, if Ivy doesn’t want to see you, please don’t push her. Let her have some time alone.”

“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing,” he replied.

Katrina desperately wanted to sneak upstairs and eavesdrop—who wouldn’t want to catch a bit of gossip? But she knew it was wrong, so she forced herself to stay put.

Jamison already knew which room was Ivy’s. He climbed the stairs, walked straight to her door, and just as he was about to knock, he hesitated.

Nothing today had gone as planned.

He’d intended to take things slow, to let Ivy warm up to him gradually. Like a gentle tide, he wanted his feelings to seep into her heart, little by little, until her guard finally came down.

But then Micah and Emma had barged in, shattering his carefully laid plans.

Still, he didn’t regret it.

Now that everything was out in the open, he actually felt better—relieved, even.

If it meant winning her back would take more effort, so be it.

Taking a slow, steady breath, Jamison braced himself and rapped his knuckles softly against the door.

Inside, Ivy sat curled up by the window, her mind looping over just one sentence: Jamison saying, “Ivy, I want to pursue you.”

It was unthinkable.

Jamison—liking her?

Was he not afraid of the chaos that would follow?

But then she remembered the look on Emma’s face at that moment, and a strange, secret thrill bubbled up inside her.

Emma had always envied her looks, her talent, the way all those eligible bachelors seemed to orbit around her. No matter how hard Emma tried, no matter what tricks she pulled, in the end, she’d only managed to snag Micah.

And now, Micah was trying to call off their engagement, begging Ivy to take him back. Even Micah’s uncle—aloof, untouchable Mr. Jamison—had openly confessed his feelings for Ivy right there in front of everyone. Emma’s pride must have been burning, her heart roasting on a spit.

A knock at the door startled Ivy from her thoughts.

She called out without turning, “Katrina, I want to take a nap.”

“It’s Jamison. I just want to talk for a moment—I’ll leave right after.”

Hearing his voice outside the door, Ivy’s eyes widened, a flicker of panic in her gaze.

What was he doing here?

She stood up but didn’t go to the door. “What do you want?”

Jamison’s voice came through the wood, calm and patient. “Will you open the door?”

Ivy hesitated, silent.

She hadn’t sorted out her feelings yet, and she certainly wasn’t ready to face him.

“Ivy, haven’t you always been fearless? Charging forward, never afraid of anything? I’m not going to do anything to you.”

His low, velvety voice carried a hint of a smile.

“Jamison, reverse psychology won’t work on me,” Ivy shot back.

He let out a helpless chuckle and sighed. “So if you’re hiding from me, does that mean you…?”

He left the rest hanging, letting her imagination fill in the blanks.

For some reason, hearing him draw out the words made Ivy’s heart thump faster, as though he’d caught her secret.

Still, she rallied, her tone sharp and proud, “Say whatever you like. I’m not coming out.”

“What if I told you I was only joking earlier?”

What?

Ivy’s expression shifted. Joking?

Jamison’s voice was unhurried. “Given the situation, saying that helped you save face—and maybe gave Emma a taste of her own medicine. It worked, didn’t it?”

Ivy was thrown. What on earth was real with this man?

She couldn’t stand the guessing game any longer. In one quick motion, she strode over and yanked the door open, her eyes cold and challenging. “Were you serious?”

The smile on Jamison’s face deepened as he saw her, a glint sparking in his dark eyes. “Which part do you mean?”