Between Love and Reality

Chapter 1

Eleanor Loxley never imagined that her path would lead her onto a reality dating show, especially not as a major social media influencer with millions of fans. Yet, here she was, caught in the whirlwind of the Entertainment Guild’s latest spectacle.
Everyone in Hollywood knew that the Guild played dirty, especially with the lineup of guests. Eleanor found herself sharing space with two notorious figures from her past.
First, her long-ago ex-boyfriend, the renowned Oscar-winning actor Julian Fairchild—whose presence felt more like a ghost than a familiar face.
Then there was her husband, Gideon Blackwood, the elusive scion of a wealthy family and a businessman with a massive following—whom she actually didn’t know well either.
Fans eagerly tuned in, anticipating drama and heartbreak, but Eleanor had made a personal vow: she’d just lay low, snagging a few camera moments before making her exit.
However, the moment the first episode aired, all hell broke loose on social media.
One scene set around a crackling campfire caught viewers’ attention when Julian posed a question that hung in the air, “If your ex realized their mistakes, would you forgive them?”
Just as Eleanor opened her mouth to respond, Gideon swept in, pulling her into his embrace. His presence was overwhelming; his deep voice resonated above the crackles of the fire. “Forgive? Not a chance. My wife says every time the horn blows, it’s her ex that bites the dust. Why even bring it up? You’re jinxing us.”
Eleanor blinked, caught between surprise and disbelief.
This was not how her plan was supposed to unfold.
**A Tale of Opposites Attracting**
Gideon Blackwood was the epitome of composure—cold, reserved, and utterly dedicated to his work. Being newlyweds for two years didn’t mean they saw each other often; their relationship practically echoed the sentiments of online trolls who dubbed them “plastic partners”—void of true emotion.
Then came the rapid-fire questions during a break in filming.
“Gideon Blackwood is a wealthy heir, proud and powerful,” a fan asserted. Eleanor nodded along, “Absolutely.”
Another chimed in, “He’s a former pro skier with incredible stamina.” She agreed again, “Right on.”
Then, someone tossed out, “Their marriage celebrity-style is as real as the fan-fiction we all know.” Eleanor hesitated, “Wait… that’s…”
Just then, Gideon entered the scene, his stature imposing as he approached her. “Are you questioning our reality?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
He leaned down, shut off her microphone, and whispered, “Say that again.”
The audience was buzzing.
Eleanor felt the tension rise—did this mock-serious moment mean they were unexpectedly playing for real?
“I’ve been crushing on someone for so long, unable to speak up or turn back.”
Eleanor adjusted her thoughts—the dynamic of a science outreach expert mixed with a charming yet dogged businessman was peculiar.
Here they were, two people married without the usual warmth that comes with love. But soon, she would become part of the spectacle, where the unexpected can flip the narrative.
**An Offer Too Interesting to Refuse**
“Wait, you want me to be on a reality dating show?” she questioned incredulously.
“Absolutely, Eleanor! You’re a leading figure in the short-form educational space, and with your ex, the Oscar winner, involved, you’d bring in massive numbers...” the production assistant prattled on.
Stuck in traffic on her way to work, Eleanor sighed. The production assistant's chatter droned on until she finally interrupted, “I’ve been separated from Mr. Fairchild for two years and married to someone else for two years as well. There’s no romance to be had in revisiting my past.”
The assistant fell silent, flabbergasted at her bluntness.
“Apologies, Eleanor. Let me check with my boss,” he stammered.
As the sun streamed down, illuminating her path on the highway, Eleanor glanced at her phone, her eyes landing on details about the show, “A Love Most True.”
She recalled the buzz about the show, known for its unique perspective on relationships and high audience engagement. The producers had a knack for creating intimacy in their observations, and their past shows had consistently held great popularity.
A brief pause on the other end. “I sincerely apologize for the mix-up, Eleanor,” the assistant said. “I’ll have my supervisor reach out.”
Eleanor had just replied affirmatively when a familiar voice chimed in—that of her friend, Seraphina Morningstar. “Since your ex is out, how about having your dear husband step in? He doesn't even need to promote himself to garner acclamation—he’s desirable enough as is.”
“Seraphina,” Eleanor chuckled, revisiting her notes. “You’re in charge of this show, aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged! I take full responsibility; it was a rookie mistake. But can you imagine? Your husband is the heir to the Blackwood dynasty! He’s practically royalty in the social circle, more coveted than your ex.”
Eleanor laughed. “In theory, sure! But honestly, after two years of marriage, I barely see him enough for a coffee date.”
“Still, you need to engage with him at some point. You know the pressure to start a family grows at every family gathering. Don’t you want to show him off?”
Eleanor sighed, “Even if we don’t have ample time together, I know he’s swamped with work. He's not joining me for silly reality TV games.”
“No doubt about that.”
It struck her—“He only appears for business matters and rarely even makes casual appearances!”
As her mind reeled, she prepared for whatever twists their intertwined fates would throw at her next.

Chapter 2

Eleanor Loxley sighed, “What a pity. You’re suing him for a sham marriage—well, it doesn’t matter; the court seems to be on his side.”
Julian Fairchild remained silent, caught off guard.
Just then, her phone buzzed, the clock striking nine.
Eleanor’s eyes perked up—“Hang on, I need to check the news.”
The alarm was a mandatory addition required by Gideon Blackwood, insisting she stay updated on financial trends every single day.
It had originally been set for six-thirty, but she quickly realized that she could never wake up at that time and graciously postponed it by half an hour. After Gideon went on a business trip—one month, then two, and then three—Eleanor boldly pushed the news time to nine o’clock, allowing her to enjoy her mornings with a few extra hours of sleep.
It was a marvelous little twist in her routine.
Today, the headline turned out to feature her husband.
He was attending a meeting near The Silver Square, where reporters gathered outside The Council Chamber, eagerly filming snippets. Spotlights flashed as a sleek black car smoothly rolled up to the end of the red carpet, a valet opening the door.
In the flicker of lights, the man strode from the car, his long legs extending beneath a nicely tailored dark suit. He stood tall and stately, his presence both refined and aloof.
Even in the center of attention, he wore an expression of cool indifference, the darkness in his eyes resembling an unyielding night.
The video was short because he never directed his gaze at the camera; the reporters could only capture his profile.
Yet as he entered the venue, his commanding aura was undeniable, making it hard to look away.
Eleanor skimmed through the article, which regurgitated the same old details about him.
She had seen them countless times before—Loxley and Blackwood families had been intertwined for generations. From a young age, Eleanor had been aware of the Blackwoods’ wealth; they owned a significant portion of the hotels and restaurants in the country. During competitions, Gideon would often say to her, “Look, that hotel is ours. And that one too.”
Noble upbringing aside, the Loxley family was hardly lacking in funds either, so it never struck her as particularly noteworthy.
But stepping back, one could hardly deny the Blackwood family's phenomenal power.
Their ancestors had built an impressive legacy, and in just a few years since Gideon took over his family’s empire, his assets had multiplied several times. He was young, with a style uniquely his own, shunning the usual playbook of corporate maneuvering; his investments spanned various industries, and no one could quite guess the extent of his wealth.
What everyone could see was that the Blackwood hotel business consistently held the top market position.
Eleanor’s eyes lingered on the bottom of the article, recognizing the tie Gideon wore—a gift she had bought him last summer in Iceland. He never liked the pattern and had tossed it into the closet.
When had he taken it?
Seraphina Morningstar leaned in curious, “What are you checking out at this hour?”
Eleanor snapped back to the present, “The news, per my husband’s request.”
Seraphina stared, speechless.
Eleanor continued slowly, “It was stipulated in our marriage contract; we’re supposed to be informed about each other’s careers, have a fixed frequency for marital interactions, and send messages to stay connected... ah, speaking of, I haven’t checked in with him today.”
Seraphina blinked in disbelief.
After a drawn-out silence, Seraphina finally spoke, “I’ve been following that gossip account, assuming they were only teasing you, but now I’m convinced—you two really have no feelings for each other.”
Eleanor picked up her phone from the passenger seat, noting the time difference with Jasper's Realm; it was ten there.
Gideon was an early riser, having perfected his sleep routine, so he should have been awake for at least three hours by now.
As she unlocked her phone, the screen came alive with sparkles that mimicked fissures, dividing the estranged couple archived in their wedding photo, each feeling worlds apart.
Counting the days, Eleanor scrolled through their chat history.
Yesterday, he had reached out to her first, which meant it was her turn to initiate today, per their contract.
After a brief pause, she typed inexplicably: “Kisses, darling.”
Gideon’s reply was instantaneous: “.”
A question mark indicated nothing but confusion. Eleanor figured his underlying sentiment was, “What’s with the sudden affection?”
Eleanor typed again: “Let’s join that couple’s variety show, Seraphina’s new program wants to feature a married couple outside the industry.”
Gideon was quiet for too long.
Finally, he responded, “I just finished a breakfast meeting. You’ve been a CEO for nearly two years now after transitioning from a short video creator; isn’t it boring running your company?”
His abrupt change in topic startled Eleanor: “Not at all, why do you ask?”
Gideon continued, “If it’s truly dull, you might as well take a break; hang out with the other wives, play some mahjong, or go shopping. It is ten in the morning, after all; the office should be closing soon.”
Eleanor couldn’t help but feel a twinge of frustration.
Perhaps it was the awkwardness of her engagement that still lingered, but in this famous yet emotionally barren marriage, she often felt a tightness in her chest.
Gideon’s pointed comments left her momentarily speechless.
Stepping out of the underground parking, she made her way to the lobby on the first floor.
As she walked, the wind caught the hem of her dark green skirt, making it ripple like water around her calves.
Eleanor’s fair skin, sparkling eyes, and delicately contoured lips complemented her elegant figure, each curve well-balanced.
Wearing a slim-strapped gown accentuated her collarbones, the high waist cinching in her slender waist while her legs looked long and elegant, even her fingertips gleaming with a cool, porcelain hue.
Everywhere she went, people cast admiring glances, greeting her in unison, “Good morning, Eleanor!”
The sunlight streamed through the company’s grand lobby, brightening Eleanor’s spirits as she entered.
From its inception, Realm Crafting Limited had transformed into the biggest dark horse in the emerging tech industry.

Chapter 3

In just a few short years, Eleanor Loxley had shattered the dominance of the three major players in the tech industry, launching a media empire composed of sixteen standout products. Among them, “Union of Views” emerged as the frontrunner in the short video sector, meticulously crafted by Eleanor herself.
Her assistant, Lady Margaret, was waiting for her at the elevator, briefing her as they walked: “The quarterly performance evaluations have begun. Several managers need to meet with you regarding their performance. I've booked the conference room for this morning. The internal beta testing of the new ‘Union of Views’ has wrapped up, and the author support program will go live this week. The person in charge of ‘Union of Readers’ wants to collaborate with ‘Union of Views’ for short drama growth and IP incubation; they’d like to schedule lunch with you tomorrow, but I wasn’t sure if you would be available.”
Eleanor confirmed each item on her agenda, pausing at the last one: “Tomorrow is the weekend; let’s change that lunch to dinner instead.”
There was no way she could get up by noon.
With Gideon Blackwood away from home, she planned to game all night and sleep till the afternoon.
Unaware of her plans, Lady Margaret replied, “Okay.”
Eleanor entered the conference room, where rows of managers were seated stiffly, eyes lined with anticipation.
Lady Margaret hesitated, then added, “There’s one more thing I would like to discuss with you.”
“Go ahead.”
“Half a month ago, we collaborated with North Keep Broadcasting and invited several stars and hosts from there to shoot a variety show at our company. One of them, a celebrity named Isabella Ashford, strayed from the scheduled route and violated policies by livestreaming in the workspace, capturing sensitive information from employees’ computers,” Lady Margaret explained. “We initially only issued a verbal warning asking her to delete the video and photos. However, she turned it into a sob story on The Whisper, which forced us to send a legal notice… Would you like to see it?”
The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Eleanor couldn’t recall it. “No need.”
In the tech industry, confidentiality is paramount. Anyone invited to film at the company would be part of key projects, and contracts would prohibit them from recording any screens.
Legally and ethically, it made sense. Eleanor replied, “No need to inform me; just follow the standard procedure.”
“But she has a large fanbase, and it’s estimated that this could bring the company twenty million in revenue…”
Eleanor scoffed, “Just twenty million? I expected it to be much more. We make eight hundred thousand in ad revenue in a minute. Make her pay the penalty for breach of contract and move on.”
“Uh, okay then…”
Her assistant closed the folder, and Eleanor smiled brightly as she sat down. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
The faces of the men in the room soured.
“Come on, don’t look so grim! I’m only ten minutes late; that’s nothing compared to who comes late and leaves early.” Eleanor chuckled, “You’ve all received your performance evaluation results from last quarter, right? Are you satisfied? If not, why not pull up the document and read aloud the hours of user engagement each of you contributed to ‘Union of Views’ and see if there’s been a huge drop compared to last half-year?”
Silence filled the room until one manager, clearly dissatisfied, retorted, “Just with ‘Union of Views,’ active daily users have surpassed three hundred million. On the streets, one in five people is scrolling through ‘Union of Views.’ At this point, how can you still be unhappy?”
As the manager finished speaking, murmurs of agreement rippled through the others. Eleanor even caught a whisper about how she had been married for two years and whether she considered stepping back from work to have a baby.
Her expression unfazed, Eleanor allowed them to grumble before she replied casually, “You said the same when ‘Union of Views’ hit 100 million DAU. Same again at 200 million and now at 300 million.
“Gentlemen, I must remind you that although Realm employs fifty thousand staff, we are still a startup, and there is plenty of room for growth in platform traffic. We’re far from saturated. If you remain detached from the front lines, leaving the workload to your subordinates and passing the buck whenever there's an issue, while spending time at gentlemen's clubs—”
She paused and added pointedly, “While ‘Union of Views’ may still have user growth left, your careers will reach a dead end first.”
The faces of those she’d directly pointed to changed instantly. “You—”
They were caught off guard, clearly not expecting her to uncover their clubbing escapades.
“Additionally,” Eleanor raised her gaze, her smile daring, “whether I continue to navigate the workplace or go home to date, that’s none of your concern. Take a good look in the mirror; there’s no space for you in my position.”
With the room steeped in an icy silence and their mediocre ‘C’ ratings hanging in the air, Eleanor stood up. Her voice was cool as she declared, “Meeting adjourned.”
—
【Help, Eleanor is just so awesome! During that performance meeting, I had to hold back from leaping out of my seat to applaud her.】
【That little celebrity was so annoying; I thought Eleanor would hesitate at all, but instead, she kicked her to the curb without a second thought. Pff, my boss is incredible; I’ve wanted that little starlet gone for ages.】
【But don’t you think Eleanor’s style is starting to mirror Gideon’s more and more?】
【Well, Gideon’s still a bit fiercer. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry.】
【Let him be fierce; as long as Eleanor stays sweet, I’m fine. Eleanor is so adorable; if she got chewed out, I bet she’d cry.】
…
Eleanor returned to her office, diving into the political data analysis documents.
As she scanned through dense pages, she was oblivious to the fact that her two assistants were exchanging messages right in front of her.
Little Joanna shot a look at Lady Margaret: [You say it.]
Lady Margaret: [Why don’t you?]
Without looking up, Eleanor interjected, “What are you two chattering about over there? It looks lively, like you’re throwing flirty glances.”
Both assistants exchanged a glance of surprise but said nothing.
“Eleanor,” Lady Margaret cleared her throat, “are you free tonight? How about joining us for an escape room?”
Little Joanna nervously added, “It won’t take long, just a little bit of your time.”
“Escape room?” Eleanor perked up, “Is it hardcore or horror? Are we having hotpot or drinks?”
Lady Margaret could only stare, mouth agape: “Well…if you’d like to drink, we can go for a drinking-themed escape…”
“Of course, I’ll join!” Eleanor grinned.

Chapter 4

As the clock ticked down, Eleanor Loxley closed her laptop and began packing her things. "We can survive without doing the script tonight, but we can't skip game night. It’s almost quitting time, and traffic is sure to be a mess. Let’s leave early," she said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
Little Joanna glanced at her, unsure of how to respond.
Eleanor checked her schedule and, seeing that her husband was out for the evening, felt a wave of excitement. "I’ll just wash my hands. Call out when Margaret is leaving, okay?"
Margaret Grosvenor nodded. "Sure, sure..."
As Eleanor breezily sauntered away, Little Joanna hesitated. "Um, I thought Gideon Blackwood was supposed to be back this month. Shouldn’t we remind her?"
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Margaret said, feeling reluctant to dampen Eleanor’s spirits. “I'm sure she knows.”
“Does she, though?”
“Of course.”
“…”
---
July in North Keep brought a thick, sultry heat that clung to the night.
As Gideon Blackwood’s flight touched down at Great West Airfield, the city lights twinkled vibrantly against a deep, star-filled sky. Neon signs illuminated the street, painting everything with a festive glow.
Exiting the VIP terminal with two assistants in tow, Gideon cut a striking figure in his tailored suit. His chiseled profile carried an air of nobility, yet his brow hinted at fatigue.
As he stepped outside the airport, he spotted his ride waiting—only one solitary vehicle, with no one else around.
Gideon paused, his expression a mix of irritation and concern.
His assistants, oblivious, opened the car doors and gestured, “Lord Blackwood, let’s head back to Waterford Manor.”
The warm glow inside the car lit up his angular features, revealing the tension beneath.
“Fine,” Gideon replied, barely lifting his gaze.
Waterford Manor was where Eleanor lived now. She loved the energy of King’s Road and made it their home, which meant it was also his marital residence.
The drive back past the rising sun would take just over an hour, and they sped away from Great West Airfield in silence.
As the cell signals returned, notifications flooded in.
Gideon idly skimmed through them, feeling an unsettling sense of something amiss.
There were no unread messages from Eleanor Loxley.
She had been unusually quiet all day. Even if she wasn't there to pick him up, she usually sent him a sweet 'goodnight' message as she settled in after her bath.
Tonight was supposed to be her turn to reach out—what was up with her?
Gideon’s fingers tightened around the armrest as he resisted the impulse to message her: 【Eleanor.】
Silence.
Gideon shrugged off the irritation: 【You asleep?】
The car cruised north along South Street, exiting through Southern Gate and onto Chancellor's Way, yet still no response.
Gideon sighed.
As they approached Waterford Manor, the guard checked their credentials before allowing them through, but Gideon felt an inexplicable chill in the air inside the vehicle.
After arriving, his assistant hurriedly grabbed the luggage and quickly retreated, sensing the tension.
Gideon stood still before the manor, his expression obscured.
It was 2 AM at Jasper's Realm time, 1 AM in Beijing, and the house remained dark—considering.
He unlocked the door with his fingerprint, the soft ‘beep’ sound cutting through the quiet.
He flicked on the lights and stood at the entrance, immediately confirming his fears—his home was empty.
Where was his wife?
Gideon’s face hardened.
---
The drinking game had taken a turn. As the hours rolled by, the story was lost amid the clinking glasses, and everyone had succumbed to the effects of too much alcohol.
The first to throw in the towel was the DM, followed by the male players, and finally, Little Joanna and Margaret Grosvenor chimed in, “Eleanor…”
“I’m still in this; I know who the killer is!” Eleanor declared, lifting her glass defiantly.
Little Joanna exchanged a glance with Margaret. “Eleanor, come on. The game is over. Joanna went to call a ride. Let me get you home, alright?”
Feeling a bit hazy, Eleanor lifted her head from a mess of clue cards and realized the room had emptied out.
The guys had left. The DM was in the lounge, nursing his own hangover.
She looked around, the memories slowly returning.
“Really, go with Little Joanna. I can make it on my own,” Eleanor insisted, standing up and grabbing her purse. “I haven’t had too much; I can walk straight. Just watch…”
As if to demonstrate, she made her way to the door, only to trip over the entrance rug and stumble forward.
She barely had time to process the fall before strong arms caught her.
Margaret gasped in surprise as a familiar scent overwhelmed Eleanor—warm and slightly spicy, a post-shave fragrance that was unmistakably Gideon.
“Gideon Blackwood,” she mumbled, squinting up at him, struggling to get a grip on reality. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back for a while… Oh, wait, I get it.”
Gideon held her firmly by the waist, grounded in the moment as his quiet gaze met hers. “Yeah?”
Eleanor stood on her toes, her breath warm against his ear. “You’re here to finish your bi-monthly OKR, right?”
He simply raised an eyebrow.
“Come on,” she urged, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she fumbled with the waistband of her long skirt. “If you’re focused, I’ll give you an A+ during your performance review.”
Gideon couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips.

Chapter 5

The game room had a cozy, dimly-lit atmosphere. Gideon Blackwood shot a cold glance at Lady Margaret.
Realizing her cue, Lady Margaret hurriedly grabbed her bag. "Well, I’ll be off then. Edward Hastings, Gideon, I’ll see you both next week."
As she left, the surroundings fell into a hush, leaving only the sound of Eleanor Loxley’s breathing.
Gideon Blackwood lowered his gaze to her.
Today, Eleanor wore a dark green sleeveless dress, the delicate straps styled as ties. It hugged her chest, adding a bit of allure, and the high waist accentuated her figure, revealing a generous expanse of pale skin around her collarbone.
Leaning slightly against him, she resembled a gift waiting to be unwrapped.
He felt an undeniable weight in the moment and asked, his voice low, “How much have you had to drink?”
Eleanor looked back at him, earnest. “Not much, really. My colleague didn’t want me drinking too much.”
Gideon let out a snort of laughter. “Oh, your colleague, huh?”
“He’s a coworker! We were just playing some games…”
“Your coworker, right,” Gideon echoed frostily. “A coworker tells you not to drink too much, and you listen to him, but when I tell you to go home early, you disregard my words.”
Eleanor stared at him, her eyes wide in the soft, sultry light. “I didn’t mean to! I’m a person of my word, I respect the terms of our marriage agreement—today was just…”
“The agreement states you have to be home by eleven…” Gideon didn’t get to finish.
Fueled by the lingering effects of alcohol, Eleanor was already on her toes, kissing him softly.
The gloss on her lips mingled with the taste of roses as she pressed against him. Gideon Blackwood wrapped an arm around her waist, his eyes igniting with sparks of desire.
It was too late for second thoughts; he didn’t see any reason to push her away now.
But Eleanor’s boldness had its consequences.
She couldn’t get out of bed the next morning.
The night stretched on, Eleanor’s memories flickering like a faulty lightbulb.
Her body felt sluggish. Yet as lips explored each other, her mind stayed sharp.
When she finally woke up again, daylight spilled brightly into the room.
With little energy, she stared at the ornate ceiling fixture, reflecting on life.
Last night, Lady Margaret had booked their game at The Silver Square, just above the Hyatt, where Gideon often resided. He had half-draped himself around her, taking the elevator straight to the sixtieth floor.
Now, however, the other side of the king-sized bed was empty, as she had anticipated. Her “plastic husband” had indeed been as unfeeling as she imagined—returning just to share a bed, then vanishing when morning came.
With a sigh, Eleanor struggled to get up, reaching for the bedside phone. “Could I get a glass of water sent to my room, please?”
The hotel attendant acknowledged her request. Eleanor slowly clutched the blanket and sank back into the pillows.
Was it really that she hadn’t exercised in so long?
Every part of her felt drained, especially her calves and lower back.
She could feel how fragile she was.
After a mental countdown of twenty seconds, there came a soft knock—three taps—on her bedroom door.
“Come in,” she said weakly.
The door opened, filling the room with cascading sunlight from the window, and a tall silhouette entered.
A long shadow silently set a glass of water on her nightstand, then pulled back the curtains with the remote control.
Bright light flooded the space as Eleanor squinted out the window, catching a glimpse of the city skyline. She frowned, looking up to see Gideon Blackwood standing at the edge of the bed, framed by the sunlight.
He wore comfortable home attire, soaking in the soft morning glow. Loose beige pants and a slight unbuttoned shirt revealed a hint of his collarbone—along with unmistakable marks from her playful bites last night.
Eleanor blinked twice, still stunned. “You didn’t leave?”
Gideon Blackwood sat at the edge of the bed, casting a cool glance her way. “I was hoping I had.”
“Well, it was unexpected,” she replied quietly, recognizing the unpredictable side of him. Last night he had held her close and whispered her name, yet today he wore a mask of indifference.
She licked her lips, trying to regain her composure. “It doesn’t seem like we get to meet often.”
“Really? Because you seem rather pleased,” Gideon remarked, narrowing his eyes as he recalled, “Husband away, game night every night.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“Last night you had quite a bit to drink. You clung onto me and mentioned it yourself,” he stated flatly.
That was careless! She shrunk under the blanket, leaving only her eyes visible. “But the games I played were legitimate.”
Gideon scrutinized her for a few seconds, before casually diverting his gaze and focusing elsewhere.
Eleanor could tell he was skeptical.
She sat up to take a sip of water. “I know we agreed to be home by eleven. But since you haven’t exactly been keeping to our agreement either, it seems fair to let each other slide once in a while, doesn’t it?”
Gideon Blackwood raised an eyebrow. “Which part of the agreement did I neglect?”
Eleanor retorted cautiously, “The agreement states we need to have conjugal visits at least once every two months, yet you haven’t come home in three months.”

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