The High-Libido CEO’s Cold Wife Chapter 11
Julian brought me to the oceanfront villa.
The house stood on the most desirable part of the bay, with glass walls and terraces opening toward
an uninterrupted sweep of ocean.
I remembered the two pages of property he had offered me in the proposed divorce settlement.
This villa had been included.
Only one housekeeper came regularly to clean and prepare meals.
There were no traces of another woman anywhere in the villa and no evidence that Julian had used
it for an affair.
On the vanity in the primary bathroom, I found one of my lipsticks.
I remembered that a tube had recently disappeared, along with a satin nightgown I could no longer
find.
I picked up the lipstick and applied it while facing the mirror. “Why is this here?”
Julian came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and rested his chin against my hair.
The man who negotiated billion-dollar deals without hesitation actually flushed when he met my
eyes in the mirror.
“When I missed you, I put your lipstick on my neck,” he admitted roughly. “I imagined you were
kissing me.”
Heat rushed into my cheeks. “Then the night I called you, were you…”
“Yes.” Julian turned me to face him and met my eyes without hiding his desire.
“I’m sorry. I also brought your nightgown and some of your lingerie here.”
[Oh my God. The hero is much darker and more obsessive than he looks.]
[Now I can picture it.
Julian stood in front of the mirror, painted Chloe’s lipstick on his neck, and touched the mark in the shower while imagining her mouth there.]
[If I remember correctly, Chloe called right in the middle of it.]
[No wonder his voice sounded like that.]
{His own wife was within reach, yet he could never have enough of her. Of course he was losing his
mind.]
[He even stole her nightgown and lingerie. This man survives on memories.]
[How did Julian keep himself from completely breaking down?]
Desire was unmistakable in his face and posture, but he continued waiting for me to decide whether
the distance between us should close.
I swallowed and moved closer.
Then I rose on my toes and kissed him.
The kiss was gentle for only a heartbeat. Then it caught like flame in dry grass and consumed the
restraint Julian had promised to maintain.
His eyes reddened as he drew me against him and deepened it.
From that afternoon until the following morning, neither of us left the bedroom.
By morning, I discovered that emotional and physical fulfillment could become so complete that even ordinary hunger faded into the background.
Eyery room in the primary suite offered a spectacular ocean view.
Through the bedroom windows, I watched sunset turn the water orange and red.
From the desk in the study, I could see fishing boats and yachts returning to shore.
The double soaking tub overlooked palms moving in the ocean breeze.
I even began to wonder what Julian had prepared in the private rooms of his CEO suite.
Someday, I wanted to find out with him.
Julian assumed the lingering Sirenthorn reaction was making me unusually responsive.
In truth, I had been pricked only once.
The toxin’s remaining effect was very slight.
The intensity between us could no longer be blamed on an experimental vine. Most of my response
belonged entirely to me.
The next morning, Ryan called while we were eating breakfast.
“Chloe, are you coming to the laboratory today? We can repeat the remaining plant assays and
move closer to a complete antidote.”
Julian looked at me, then quickly lowered his eyes.
He did not ask me to stay or remind me of our promise. That silence was Julian’s first deliberate
effort to respect my choice without pressure.
“It’s the weekend,” I told Ryan. “I’m spending today with my husband, so I won’t be there.”
“Oh. Sure.”
Ryan sounded surprised. “I’ll work through the tests myself.”
The phrase my husband changed Julian’s entire expression, and the pleased curve of his mouth
survived every attempt he made to suppress it.
After ending the call, I switched off my phone completely.
Julian took me out on his yacht, and we stayed aboard overnight.
Near midnight, strong wind rolled waves beneath the hull, rocking us for hours.
The sound of the water became the perfect lullaby.
I wrapped my arms around Julian’s neck and called him my husband with open affection.
Hearing me claim him so openly reached the lonely part of Julian that had spent three years waiting
to be chosen.
He could no longer contain the depth of love he had kept restrained for so long.
Eventually, the intensity overwhelmed me, and I lost consciousness.
For a moment, I thought I saw a brilliant aurora, unlike anything I had experienced before.
When I woke, Julian looked deeply guilty. “I’m sorry.
I lost control again.”
I smiled lazily. “It’s all right.
You were… amazing.”
Heat immediately returned to his eyes.
Later, we ate breakfast together on the yacht.
The ocean wind lifted my hair, and affectionate marks covered my skin.
We allowed ourselves to enjoy the quiet morning.
Until then, I had regarded any day away from the laboratory as lost time. That weekend taught me rest and love could make life fuller rather than less productive.
For years, I had driven myself like machinery and worked without pause for the sake of research
My constant rush toward the next result had carried me past countless ordinary moments that might have become precious memories.
From then on, I would remain committed to my career without abandoning my marriage, my own needs, or Julian’s feelings.
A marriage could not survive if only one person waited, yielded, and tried to understand. Compromise had to move in both directions.
There was no harm in slowing my climb.
Even a longer route could still lead to the summit.
