“Aah!”

A sudden jolt of tingling pain shot through her, making Ivy cry out. She spun around and snapped, “Jamison, what are you doing?! Of all times, you pick now to mess around?”

Jamison–Dr. Ludwig–didn’t even flinch. Calmly, he glanced at her and explained, “Don’t be so dramatic. This is the gluteal trigger point. Pressing here helps relieve lower back tension. You’ve got the wrong idea.”

Ivy was speechless.

Jamison kept working, his cool, calloused knuckles pressing skillfully and precisely into the right spot–not a single inappropriate thought behind it, just a professional, focused massage.

Ivy’s face scrunched up; each press sent a strange, almost electric ache through her, impossible to describe.

She fought the urge to bolt, clutching the pillow, body rigid with resistance, teeth clenched, too embarrassed to make a sound.

Jamison watched her bury her whole face in the pillow, trembling and gripping it for dear life. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Relax. Don’t tense up or fight it, or the massage won’t work. If it gets too much, just let it out–go ahead and make some noise. It’s just you, me, and the cats in here, and they’re not going to judge you.”

That only made Ivy’s face burn hotter.

But she honestly couldn’t hold it in.

After a few moments of struggling, she finally let out a muffled groan, her voice gradually growing louder.

Jamison stifled his laughter, not daring to tease her further; he knew she’d be furious if he did.

Heat packs and massage–it went on for twenty minutes.

By the end, Ivy was completely relaxed, sleepiness washing over her. She didn’t even notice when Jamison removed the herbal pack.

He came back to bed to find her drifting off, half-covered by the blanket. Shaking his head, he gently pulled the covers up around her.

She mumbled softly, face buried in the pillow, wriggling like a drowsy kitten.

Jamison turned on his side, watching her, utterly transfixed; the sight of her, so lovely and inviting, made his throat tighten and his pulse race.

Smiling silently, he reached out and traced her smooth cheek with his finger. His handsome face leaned closer, and he couldn’t resist kissing her.

Ivy wasn’t fully asleep yet. She didn’t resist–in fact, she parted her lips for him, yielding completely.

“Jamison, think about it. I’m on my period…” she murmured with her eyes still closed.

The implication was clear: if you keep going, you’re only making things harder for yourself.

Jamison didn’t care. He kissed her deeper, guiding her hand down to his waist.

Ivy’s eyes flew open as she realized what he wanted.

This guy!

So much for being aloof and restrained–that was just an illusion for strangers. Behind closed doors, under the sheets, he was as human as anyone else.

Afterward, Jamison slipped off to the bathroom.

Now wide awake, Ivy stared at her own hand, unable to look at it without blushing.

He came back soon, grinning as he asked, “Why aren’t you asleep? Not tired anymore?”

“You’ve got some nerve!” she shot back. “I would’ve been out cold if you hadn’t kept me up.”

Dr. Ludwig only smiled more contentedly. Crawling back into bed, he pulled his delicate wife into his arms like she was a cherished doll.

“Sleep. Your husband’s exhausted.”

Ivy caught the weariness in his brow, and her heart ached for him. She couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you do this? You were born with every advantage–could’ve had an easy, comfortable life, never wanting for anything. But instead, you chose a demanding, thankless career and run yourself into the ground. Why?”

Jamison closed his eyes. One arm was her pillow, the other gently patting her shoulder.