She was still bleeding so much–why on earth would they bathe together? That was just… gross. Even if they were married and supposedly close, she couldn’t accept it.

Jamison didn’t argue. He just turned and went into the bedroom.

After playing with the cat for a bit, Ivy plopped down on the couch. She pulled out her phone to shoot a quick message to her roommate, letting her know she was home and wouldn’t be coming back to the dorm tonight.

Then she chatted with Katrina Lester for a while. When Katrina heard Ivy wasn’t feeling well and had gone back to Jamison’s place for the night, she was adamant–skip the dorms, lean on your doctor husband, and get your health sorted out as soon as possible.

But adenomyosis was nicknamed the “cancer you don’t die from.” Even specialists were stumped by it–what could Jamison do, as a surgeon?

Dr. Quinn’s words echoed in her mind. Maybe she should look into that hormone IUD? If her body could handle it, it might be worth a try. As for having children… If she and Jamison ever changed their minds, medical technology had come a long way. There would be options.

“I’m done. Your turn,” Jamison called, jolting her out of her tangled thoughts.

Ivy glanced back at him. He was standing there in nothing but a pair of loose shorts, those sculpted abs on full display, radiating testosterone like a peacock in full courtship mode. She rolled her eyes.

“What was that look?” Jamison caught her eye–rolling as she brushed past him, grabbing her wrist with a grin.

Ivy replied, “The AC’s set too low. Don’t catch a cold.”

That made him laugh even more. His big hand cupped her cheek as he leaned in and kissed her.

She frowned, pushing at his chest. “Knock it off! What about your whole neat-freak routine? You just got clean and now you’re hugging me.”

“Husband privileges,” he teased, kissing her a few more times before finally letting her go.

When Ivy came out of the shower, Jamison was just heading into the bedroom with an acupuncture kit in hand.

She frowned immediately. “You’re not actually going to poke needles in me, are you?”

“You said your lower back was aching. Acupuncture helps.”

“No, really, I feel a lot better after the hot shower.” Ivy shook her head quickly. For one, he’d barely rested these past two days–she didn’t want to trouble him further. And honestly, she was a bit needle-phobic.

Jamison saw her reluctance and didn’t press. “How about a hot compress, then?”

“That works,” she agreed.

As he handed her the heat pack, she eyed it curiously. “When did you get this?”

“Picked it up from the integrative medicine department at the hospital. They say it works wonders.”

Her back really was aching, so Ivy stretched out on her stomach on the bed. Jamison lifted her pajama top, laid a dry towel across her lower back and hips, and carefully placed the warm compress on top.

“Too hot?”

“It’s fine…” she mumbled, turning her head to watch his gentle, handsome profile, her heart filling with a quiet, contented warmth. “Dr. Ludwig, you’re dangerously easy to get addicted to,” she murmured with a smile.

Jamison shot her a look, smiling. “If you’re addicted, does that mean you’ll finally move back in? I’ll make sure you’re comfortable every night.”

He meant he’d take good care of her, but Ivy’s mind went somewhere else. She shot him a glare. “You’re shameless.”

“Who’s shameless? You’re reading into things.”

Ivy didn’t bother to deny it–she was pretty sure he meant exactly what she thought. The heat pack felt amazing, warmth seeping through every muscle and vein, melting away her tension. My relaxed, eyes drifting closed in bliss.

Suddenly, Jamison’s big hand landed on her backside. She felt his knuckles curl, and before she could turn to see what he was up to, he pressed down-