A flush crept up Ivy’s cheeks as she finally understood.

Because of her condition—adenomyosis—she had to be extra careful about hygiene during intimacy. The tiniest bit of bacteria or virus could trigger a flare-up and make things worse for her.

Jamison, being a doctor, knew this all too well.

So even when passion ran high and things were about to escalate, he always made sure to take care of himself—heading to the bathroom first to wash up.

There was no way Ivy could respond to that without embarrassment. She shot him a sideways glare and turned away.

Jamison just grinned, leaning in so his lips brushed her ear. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about between husband and wife,” he murmured. “If you’re tired, just go back to sleep. I can handle things myself.”

The sudden chill of a disinfectant wipe made Ivy jolt. She smacked his arm, half annoyed, half mortified. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m some kind of blow-up doll?”

Even if she were a pig, she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep in this situation!

He was doing this on purpose—just to tease her!

Jamison only laughed, then tossed aside the covers, moving over her and pulling her into his arms…

By the time they finally got up, it was past eight. Ivy learned her best friend’s phone had been delivered to the hospital, so she called right away.

Katrina was awake and picked up quickly, her voice full of gratitude. “Ivy, thank you. You and Dr. Ludwig saved me—again—last night.”

Ivy’s mood dampened in an instant. “Don’t say that. If it weren’t for me, Emma wouldn’t have gone after you. This all happened because of me.”

“Not really,” Katrina replied. “I was so drunk last night, no matter who I ran into, it wouldn’t have ended well. It’s not your fault.”

Katrina wasn’t naïve. Years of studying law had taught her just how dark and dangerous the world could be.

Sure, there were good people out there—but you couldn’t always count on meeting them. Given how out of it she’d been the night before, she was lucky not to have run into someone worse. If not Emma and Sheridan, it could have been any thug or creep.

After all these years as friends, Ivy skipped the polite back-and-forth. “If you really want to thank someone, thank Naylor. Not me.”

“Naylor?” Katrina blinked, trying to place the name. She’d only met him once, over dinner.

“We all had dinner together when Jamison and I got our marriage license—remember?”

With that, Katrina recalled. “Right. But what does he have to do with last night?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll drop by the hospital soon—much easier to explain in person.”

“Okay.”

When the call ended, Ivy glanced over at Jamison, who was on the phone as well—a call from the old family estate.

From what she overheard, he was being called home for dinner.

Once he hung up, Ivy hesitated. “I want to stop by the hospital first before going to the manor. Is that alright?”

“Of course. Dinner’s not until tonight, there’s no rush.”

He always considered her feelings first. Ivy noticed it—and treasured it.

As they reached the front hallway, Ivy couldn’t hold back her gratitude and affection. She caught his hand, stopped him, and leaned in to kiss him.

Jamison looked surprised. “What was that for?”

Ivy just grinned, pulled open the door, and called back, “No reason. I can kiss my own husband if I want to.”

Dr. Ludwig lit up, hurrying after her. In the elevator he tried to steal another kiss, but Ivy pushed up his chin and pointed to the security camera in the corner.

“Try to behave in public, Mr. Jamison,” she said smoothly, slipping back to her cool, composed self.

Jamison just laughed, kissed the back of her hand, and laced his fingers with hers as they headed out together.