The Heartbreak Prescription (by Glazed Snow) novel Chapter 1101

Nathan returned to the sanctuary of the bedroom, his mind still tangled in the web of files demanding his attention. He picked up his phone, scrolling through the documents that lay in wait for his approval, each one a testament to the work that had piled up during the day.

Suddenly, the soft sound of the bathroom door creaking open broke his concentration, and he instinctively looked up.

Ivy emerged, and in that moment, time seemed to slow. She had thrown on his white dress shirt, its oversized fabric draping over her figure in a way that was both casual and enticing. The shirt hung just above her thighs, hinting at the long, graceful lines of her legs, which seemed to go on forever. She exuded an effortless beauty that took his breath away, a sight he could never quite prepare himself for.

Nathan found himself momentarily speechless, caught off guard once again by Ivy’s striking presence. Her reputation as a captivating woman was not merely hearsay; it was a reality that knocked him off his feet each time he laid eyes on her.

Ivy turned her head slightly, her gaze locking onto his. “What are you staring at?” she asked, a playful challenge in her tone.

A smirk played at the corners of Nathan’s lips. “Just taking a moment to appreciate your beauty. Is that a crime?” he replied, his voice teasing yet sincere.

In a swift motion, Ivy tossed the towel she had been holding directly at his face. “Yes, it is! I’m going to get some water,” she declared, her laughter trailing behind her as she stepped out of the room.

As Nathan pulled the towel from his face, he was enveloped by her sweet scent—a delightful blend of warm cream and her signature perfume. The fragrance hit him like a wave, igniting a rush of adrenaline that sent his heart racing.

In the living room, Ivy stood by the counter, pouring herself a glass of water, when Wanda suddenly appeared, her presence filling the space with a sense of familiarity.

“Good evening, Mrs. Lowe,” Wanda greeted, her tone warm yet inquisitive.

Ivy turned, a smile breaking across her face. “Oh, hey, Wanda.”

Wanda’s gaze roamed over Ivy, assessing her outfit with a hint of disapproval. “Why aren’t you wearing the nightgown I picked out for you?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

Ivy chose silence, allowing the question to linger in the air, a subtle defiance in her demeanor.

“Mrs. Lowe,” Wanda pressed on, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone, “you and Mr. Lowe have been married for quite some time, yet you still haven’t shared a room. Mr. Lowe’s grandfather is starting to worry! Just think about it: Mr. Lowe is handsome and wealthy. The two of you are a perfect match. You really should consider moving things along and give his grandfather a great-grandchild. Once you’re pregnant, that child will be the rightful heir to the Lowe family legacy. Your grandfather-in-law would give that little one the stars if asked!”

Wanda’s words flowed like a river, her eagerness to persuade Ivy palpable. She feared that Ivy might dismiss the idea altogether.

Setting her glass down, Ivy made her way back to the bedroom. She didn’t engage Nathan immediately; instead, she focused on the jewelry design she had been sketching, her mind swirling with creativity and thoughts of the evening ahead.

Before long, a gentle knock at the door interrupted her concentration, followed by Wanda’s voice. “Mr. and Mrs. Lowe.”

“Come in,” Nathan called out, his attention still buried in his documents.

Wanda entered, a cup of steaming tea in hand, approaching Nathan with a sense of purpose. “I made you a cup of tea,” she announced, her voice imbued with warmth.

Without looking up, Nathan gestured dismissively. “Just leave it there.”

“This tea came from the old estate,” Wanda insisted, her smile unwavering. “It’s known for helping with sleep and calming the mind. You should drink it while it’s hot, and then you and Mrs. Lowe can get some rest.”

The air in the room thickened with unspoken tension as Ivy observed the exchange, her heart racing at the thought of what lay ahead.