CEO Wants His Wife Back In His Bed のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

April stepped into the house with a sigh, dropping her purse on the hallway table and slipping off her heels with a grimace. Her feet ached, her shoulders were stiff, and she hadn’t even had the energy to take off her blazer before Noah’s voice floated from the living room.“You’ve got thirty minutes to get ready,” he called. “Dinner reservations. And before you argue—we’re celebrating your win.”She frowned, stepping further into the room. He was standing by the bar cart, dressed to kill in a black suit with no tie, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a glimpse of skin. He looked... devastating.April blinked. “Wait, what win?”Noah came over, kissing her cheek lightly. “You, standing up for yourself. Your win. You put them in their place and walked out with your head high. We’re celebrating.”Her heart softened, but her pride flared slightly. “We lost the Paris group acquisition because of that damn leak.”Noah smiled patiently. “And yet, you didn’t let them rattle you. You made

The front door clicked shut behind them with a soft thud, the sound swallowed by the quiet stillness of the Harrington estate.April’s heels echoed faintly in the empty hall, her fingers still laced through Noah’s. The place smelled like memory, old cedar and roses, polished wood, her childhood. She had loved it here. She was so glad they had renewed their vows in the garden she loved so much.For a moment, the silence felt too big. Too final. Like stepping out of one life and into another. Her dad was gone, but she held him in her heart and this place would always be here.Noah, in his usual effortless way, broke the weight with a grin.“Well, Mrs. Crawford,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing, “you have exactly fifteen seconds to tell me which room we’re sleeping in before I throw you down right here on the marble floor.”April raised a brow, smoothing her fingers up his lapel. “Not the master-suite.”Noah blinked. “Why not?”“It was my father’s room, and I still feel guilty moving

April pulled her car into the underground parking garage beneath Harringtons, the soft rumble of the engine echoing against the stark concrete walls. She glanced at the dashboard clock. 8:12 a.m. Early, but she liked it that way. Quiet, still, no one around to pull her into impromptu meetings before she had a chance to settle. If Noah had his way this morning, she would have been late.Grinning, she slipped the gear into park and killed the engine. The silence that followed was oddly sharp, too complete. She reached over for her handbag, slinging it over her shoulder, and opened the door, her heels clicking against the floor as she stepped out. The sound echoed off the concrete walls.The moment she shut her door and hit the lock, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.She paused.It was instinct. A tightening in her chest. A shift in the atmosphere that had nothing to do with the cold. She wasn’t alone. Usually, she wouldn’t have minded. It was common for her staff to come and go

Traffic and streets blurred around her. April’s grip hurt on the wheel. Kayla sat rigid beside her, pistol hidden below dash level, arm braced on the door like she was part of the upholstery now.“Take the next exit,” Kayla rasped.April’s mouth was desert‑dry. “That dumps us into Tribeca. Foot traffic’s heavy—”“I said exit.”She obeyed, the SUV shuddering across the chevrons onto Harrison Street.Think. She needed to think. She knew Noah would save her.But maybe Noah was still at his desk at the office and wouldn’t be coming to save her. Maybe she was on her own.For the first time, she felt butterflies in her stomach—the baby. “Hang in there, little one,” she whispered under her breath, too quiet for Kayla to catch.“Keep your eyes ahead,” Kayla snapped, her voice fraying, raw around the edges. “No sudden moves.”April swallowed. “Are we just going to keep driving circles until we run out of gas?”Kayla’s gaze flicked to her belly, then away, jaw working. “We’ll stop when I’m ready

For the night‑shift nurse, the arrangement was unacceptable. She pushed the door open for the fourth time, shoes squeaking on linoleum, her clipboard braced like a shield. Noah woke up the minute the door started opening.“Mr. Crawford, you’re going to have to use the visitor’s chair. It’s policy. Patients need room to turn safely.”Noah’s gruff whisper carried a quiet threat. “She is turning safely around me.”April stirred, IV line rustling, voice sleep‑rough. “It’s fine… we’ll both fit.”“It’s really not,” the nurse insisted, but her resolve faltered under Noah’s unblinking stare. He looked like a wolf someone had tried to leash overnight—hair a mess, dress shirt wrinkled, jaw covered in stubble—and sexy as hell.Finally, the nurse scribbled an irritated note, muttered something about lawsuits, and retreated. Noah exhaled only when the door clicked shut.“Sorry,” April murmured.He kissed her temple. “Let her file whatever report she wants. I’m not parking my ass in a plastic bucket