No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1200

The hand at her waist was strong, supporting her as she swayed.

"Are you okay?" Ian's low voice held a hint of tension. "Are you dizzy or is it your heart?"

"Dizzy," Eleanor said, her eyes closed. Her voice was hoarse from crying. The world was spinning, and any movement made it worse.

Instinctively, Eleanor wanted to push him away, but she realized she didn't even have the strength to stand. The immense emotional shock and days of intense work had taken their toll on her body.

Ian's brow furrowed. Without another word, he bent down, slid an arm under her knees, and lifted her into his arms.

"Let go of me—" Eleanor struggled.

Ian ignored her protests, carrying her toward what looked like a bookshelf but was actually a hidden door. Behind it was a simple yet luxurious private suite.

"Ian, put me down," Eleanor protested, but he gently placed her on the soft bed. She tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed her back down.

"You need to rest, now," Ian said, his voice low and firm. He pulled a light blanket over her.

"I don't want to rest here—" Eleanor turned her face away, resisting the scent of him in the room, resisting his care. Besides, after he had hidden so much from her, she didn't want to face him right now.

"If you still want to save him, you need to take care of yourself first. If you get sick, Mansfield will have no hope," Ian said, standing by the bed and looking down at her, his gaze as deep as the sea. "And you have Evelyn to think about."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify