The High-Libido CEO’s Cold Wife Chapter 01
I had always been emotionally reserved, yet somehow I had married an old-money CEO whose need for affection seemed almost endless.
When I turned down his advances yet again, translucent comments suddenly began sliding through the air in front of me.
[They’ve been married for three years, and the frigid supporting character has never once satisfied the hero.]
[He’s taking another cold shower. If he had married the seductive heroine, I can’t imagine how good his life would be.]
[The so-called Sirenthorn heroine landed an executive-assistant position. She starts tomorrow, and the hero’s good days are finally coming.]
[The hero met with a divorce attorney today because he wants out as soon as possible, while she’s still working in the study. Hilarious.]
I closed the file I had been reviewing, left the study, and forced myself to knock on the bathroom door.
The water stopped abruptly. Julian Caldwell’s voice came through, rough and low.
“What is it?”
Nervous but determined to remain polite, I asked, “I’m done working. Could I… take a shower with you?”
Silence.
For several long seconds, the only sound in the bathroom was water dripping against tile.
I assumed Julian’s silence was a refusal and started to leave.
The door opened a crack.
His arm reached through the gap and pulled me inside.
Before I could regain my balance, he had drawn me inside and pressed my back against the closed bathroom door.
His handsome face hovered inches from mine.
“Are you serious?” His narrow eyes studied me like a predator sizing up its prey.
My gaze landed squarely on his broad chest, then moved lower to the hard lines of his abdomen.
Water traced the grooves of his muscles before disappearing beneath the towel around his waist.
Memories of how relentless he could become made my courage begin to disappear almost as quickly as it had formed.
I faltered. “If you’re finished, you could go out first…”
From the corner of my eye, I saw the faintest curve at his lips.
His hand settled on my waist, and heat filled his gaze. “I could help you.”
[She’s playing hard to get again.]
[He’s already at the breaking point.]
[She walked in willingly. Talk about throwing gasoline on a fire.]
[There is no way he’s letting her leave now.]
[She probably won’t have the strength to walk out of that bathroom tonight.]
[He could always carry her.]
[And they could keep going on the way…]
[What if she passes out again like last time?]
[The hero is more than capable of it.]
A nervous shiver traveled down my spine as the comments became increasingly specific.
I had taken the initiative with Julian once before, on our first wedding anniversary.
I happened to have the day off, so I prepared a candlelit dinner on a whim and scattered rose petals across the bath.
Julian had responded to my invitation with an intensity far beyond anything I had expected.
I eventually passed out.
Whenever I asked for a glass of water, he seemed determined to drown me in an entire ocean.
From that anniversary onward, I had treated every attempt to encourage him with extreme caution.
The comments made me fear a repeat of that night.
But they had also said Julian met with a divorce attorney today because he wanted to leave me quickly.
Our marriage had begun as an agreement between our parents rather than a romance either of us openly pursued.
My father had once done the Caldwell family a great service, but Julian originally opposed letting our families decide whom he would marry.
I heard that after his father died, he had considered backing out.
His grandfather, the Caldwell patriarch, intervened and insisted the marriage proceed.
The Caldwells stood at the very top of the old-money world, while my family was comfortably middle class.
By every measure of wealth and social position, marrying into the Caldwell family had placed me far above the world in which I grew up.
Fortunately, Julian had treated me with patience and generosity from the day we married. I assumed gratitude toward my father was the reason.
I was a botanist.
To make it easier for me to study plant-growth patterns, Julian bought a private mountain preserve after we married and gave it to me as a research base.
Rare plants covered the preserve, which also contained a medicinal-plant nursery.
He spent another fortune building me a research laboratory and a small cottage of my own on the property.
As Mrs. Caldwell, I never had to worry about everyday expenses.
With every practical burden removed, I had been free to pour nearly every waking hour into the botanical research I loved.
Losing that life was one reason the thought of divorce frightened me more than I wanted to admit.
If we separated, Julian would probably take back the private preserve.
Where could I possibly find another husband who would casually give me an entire mountain for my work?
Besides, he was young and handsome, with a face and body that were hard to fault.
Any future child of mine would have an exceptional father and every possible advantage from birth.
Looking back honestly, I could see how often I had treated Julian’s patience as something permanent and neglected him throughout our marriage.
If he wanted a divorce because our intimate life was unsatisfying, I could try being a little more attentive.
