Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 395

Victor lounged lazily against the pillows, half-reclined on the bed, his gaze fixed intently on Isadora. His eyes were as quiet and unfathomable as a midnight forest, silent and deep.

Isadora reached over, carefully bringing a spoonful of soup to his lips.

Obediently, Victor parted his lips and swallowed, the sharp line of his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion.

Still, his dark, drowning gaze never left her face.

Isadora finally couldn't take it. She glared at him. "Can you please just eat your meal properly?"

Victor's lips curled up in a faint smile. "Aren't I being perfectly cooperative?"

"Then why are you staring at me like that?"

Her heart was pounding so hard, she swore it could break the speed limit.

If he kept looking at her like that any longer-

She was sure she'd melt under the intensity of his gaze.

Victor's deep, low voice was rich with affection. "Because my wife is beautiful."

Men really did have a way with sweet words.

Not that Isadora would ever admit how those words made her heart flutter.

She pressed her lips together to hide her smile and ordered, "Close your eyes, or I'm not feeding you anymore."

He chuckled, his laughter rumbling in his chest, his tone teasing and indulgent. "You really are a tyrant, you know that?"

Eventually, Isadora managed to finish feeding him.

answered, balancing the phone at his ear while tapping away on his tablet, dealing with

a careful eye on the IV drip,

bottle

door to call for

room, all brisk professionalism

was present, but Dr. Brown finally seemed able

week. And watch your diet —no spicy foods, no shellfish, and avoid

prescriptions on the table. Take your medication with each meal, three times a

attentively, making mental notes of

the doctor left, she stood guard, watching until Victor

pill.

sauntered over until he stood just in front of her. He leaned in close, his voice@low murmur by her ear "You're being so

ears went crimson. Her words came out in

think you can handle that

feigning

at

a wounded sigh,

Tnet

can't get the wound wet. If water gets in, it could get infected-and I might lose the use of my arm. But I'm a grown man. I should be independent, shouldn't rely on anyone. But what can I do? No one fusses over

"Fine! I'll help you

front of Victor,

his injury, and pulled his

up, she met Victor's sharp, narrow eyes, a mischievous

could see every detail of his lashes, black as ink—and her own reflection

a beat and her cheeks

or sel

feet touched the floor again, she found herself face-to-face with his bare chest broad, muscled, white bandage across his shoulder and defined