The CEO’s Unspoken Love (Eleanor and Derek) novel Chapter 172

Chapter 172

“Will there be anything else, Mr. Wells? Alan asked.

‘No. Thank you for bringing these on such short notice.”

Then I watched as Derek walked Alan to the door. As soon as it closed behind him, Derek turned to me with a frown.

‘You should be in bed,” he said.

“I’m feeling a little better,” I replied, though the effort of standing was already making me light-headed. “And I heard voices.”

Derek guided me to the dining table, his hand warm and steady at the small of my back. “Sit. I made soup.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You cook now?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “I’ve always known how to cook. I just rarely had the

need.”

I touched my forehead, checking my temperature. It had dropped somewhat, though I still felt feverish.

102 earlier, I told him. “Maybe 100 now.”

Derek nodded, disappearing into the kitchen. He returned with a bowl of creamy soup that smelled divine, steam rising in delicate

curls.

“Shrimp and mushroom bisque, he explained, setting it before me. My grandmother’s recipe.”

I picked up my spoon, but Derek gently took it from my hand. “Let me,” he said.

Before I could protest, he dipped the spoon into the soup, blew on it gently, and lifted it to my lips. The intimacy of the gesture

made my cheeks flush, and I wasn’t sure it was entirely due to the fever.

“I can feed myself, I objected weakly.

‘I know you can, Derek replied, his eyes intent on my face. “But you don’t have to.”

I accepted the spoonful, the rich flavors exploding on my tongue. It was delicious, the perfect balance of cream, seafood, and subtle

spices.

“This is really good, I admitted.

Derek smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes and made my heart skip. “My grandmother would be pleased to hear it.

He continued feeding me, each spoonful delivered with the same careful attention. I found myself mesmerized by the domesticity of

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Chapter 172

the moment, by this side of Derek I’d rarely seen during our marriage.

His gaze traveled down my body, lingering on my bare feet and ankles exposed beneath my robe. “You should dress more warmly.” he said, his voice suddenly lower. “Those silk nightgowns might look nice, but they’re hardly practical when you’re ill.”

The implication that he was familiar with my nightwear sent another flush through my body. “I didn’t exactly plan on getting sick, I

pointed out.

When the soup was finished, I pushed back from the table. “Thank you for the soup, and for checking on me. But 1/should get back/

to bed, and you should go home.”

Derek’s expression hardened slightly. I’m not leaving you alone while you’re sick.”

“Derek, be reasonable. You can’t stay here. You’ll catch the flu too.”

His eyebrow arched. “I didn’t realize you cared whether I got sick or not.”

“I don’t want to be responsible for making you ill,” I insisted, though the concern in my voice betrayed me.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be,” he said, moving closer. “My immune system is excellent.”

I sighed, too tired to argue further. “Fine.”

His eyes held mine, intense and unreadable. “But understand this, Eleanor. If you continue to neglect your health this way, I might

have to take a more… active role in caring for your body.”

The double meaning in his words was unmistakable, sending a jolt of heat through me that had nothing to do with my fever. I

lowered my gaze, unable to respond.

“It wasn’t your call to make me come here, he continued, his voice softer now. “So you don’t get to tell me when to leave.”

Before I could formulate a response, he swept me up into his arms again. I gasped, wrapping my arms around his neck instinctively.

‘Derek! What are you doing?”

“Taking you back to bed, he said simply. “And then I’m going to make sure you rest properly.”

As he carried me up the stairs, I rested my head against his shoulder, too exhausted to fight and secretly relieved he was staying.

Despite all my rational arguments, despite knowing how complicated this made things between us, I couldn’t deny the comfort his

presence brought.

And as Derek laid me back on my bed, his touch gentle yet possessive, I realized that perhaps I didn’t want him to leave after all.

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Chapter 172

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The CEO’s Unspoken Love