The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride - Chapter 1979

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Blinking her eyes, she seemed to perk up a bit, her little head swaying left and right as she took in
the room's minimalist decor, all shades of muted grey. It was exactly the kind of Spartan aesthetic
Seth would have.

After Seth set her down, he reached out to steady her restless head, straightening it. "Stay put, will
you?"

Cicely looked at him, puzzled. "Your place... your own house? When did you..."

She didn't finish her question. After all, knowing Seth was a force to be reckoned with wasn't news.
That there was suddenly an apartment in the mix was hardly a shocker.

She clutched the edge of the blanket wrapped around her, her eyes bright with excitement as she
looked at Seth. "Why'd you suddenly bring me to your place?"

Seth stood up and shrugged off his suit jacket, the easy, deliberate movement making Cicely's
cheeks flush. "Taking care of my sick girlfriend, isn't that just the done thing?"d2

Cicely tried to suppress a smile, "But what about my dad."

"You think he wouldn't approve? If that's the case, I can take you back right now."

Cicely curled a little deeper into the blankets, "I think it's perfectly fine."

"I'll talk to your dad. I've kept him in the dark about how sick you've been, and it's only fair you get a
chance to recover before heading back."

Seth gave her a faint glance and turned to leave the bedroom.

"Where are you going?"

Cicely murmured an obedient "Okay," and truly didn't move a muscle, her curiosity about the room
waning as nearly an hour passed, and she felt her eyelids grow heavy.

When Seth returned, he had swapped his formal wear for something more casual, the fatigue from
earlier now washed away from his face. "There's soup simmering in the kitchen. Do you want to eat
in here, or shall we dine at the table?"

"The table." Before Seth could even finish, Cicely's voice piped up.

He probably anticipated her answer, his expression unchanging as he approached the bed. He had
barely bent down when her arms slipped out from under the covers and wrapped around his neck.

Seth looked at her, "Aren't you taking things for granted?" Despite his words, he lifted her in his
arms.

"It's called being in sync. Didn't you want to come over and carry me?"

Cicely reveled in the rare moment of Seth being at a loss for words.

Settled at the dining table by Seth, she watched him head back to the kitchen. The table was
already laid out with a few simple but appetizing dishes, and a clay pot that wafted the scent of rice.

Cicely glanced around once more, making sure they were alone in the apartment, then asked Seth
as he returned with another pot, "Did you make all this?"

"I never thought you could cook..." Cicely was pleasantly surprised.

"As long as you can read and follow instructions, and not make any mistakes in the regular process,
there typically shouldn't be any problems."

Cicely understood what he meant. It's basically the idea that you don't have to have done
something to know how it works. She became a little apprehensive about the taste of the food he
had cooked.

A soft clink, and Seth placed a bowl of steaming soup in front of her. "Drink up."

She hesitated, but Seth's kindness and tenderness that day were like a blue moon event, and for
that alone, even if the soup were poison, she'd drink it.

Her struggle and her resolve didn't go unnoticed by Seth. He watched, a hint of amusement flashing
in his eyes, as she cautiously took a spoonful, blew on it, hesitated, and finally tasted it. Cicely's
furrowed brow relaxed almost immediately.

"Hmm?" She blinked at Seth, "This is actually really good."

"It sounds like you expected less from me."

Cicely immediately gave a thumbs-up, "Not bad at all, my man of many talents."

Seth said nothing, sitting opposite her, sharing a quiet lunch.

Through the evening, Seth never left the house, though his phone rang off the hook. Cicely often
heard his deep voice on calls through the walls, a reminder of his presence and dedication to his
work.

Despite a twinge of resentment, Cicely kept her complaints to herself. A man with ambition
deserved her support, she thought; she might not be able to help much, but at least she wouldn't
hold him back. After all, even if she offered him everything she had, he probably wouldn't take it.

Drifting back into sleep, she woke again at dinnertime.

Feeling much better after the meal, Cicely, wearing Seth's oversized slippers, roamed the
apartment. She wasn't quite sure of the specific address, but it seemed like a very ordinary
apartment—three bedrooms, two living rooms, and two bathrooms. The decoration was simple yet
luxurious, with fully equipped facilities. It looked very new, indicating that he probably hadn't lived
here much.

She wondered, was she the first to stay here?

Seth appeared out of nowhere, "Go take a shower in the en-suite."

His sudden command startled her, and she clutched her chest, "You scared me."

But the mention of a shower reminded her that she indeed needed one. Holding her chest, she
headed toward the bedroom, passed Seth, then paused and backtracked.

Seth looked down at her, "Need help?"

Her cheeks reddened, "Do you have clothes for me?"

Seth frowned slightly, returned to the bedroom, and pulled out a shirt from the wardrobe, handing it
to her. "We'll shop tomorrow."

She accepted it, wrinkling her nose at the thought of wearing a shirt to bed—not the most
comfortable sleepwear, but better than nothing.

Before she entered the bathroom, Seth called out, "You've got half an hour. If you're not out, I'm
coming in."

Cicely wasn't used to timing her showers, but figured she could manage.

The bath was already drawn, and Cicely thought that Seth was unusually tender today, almost
unnaturally so. Just as she finished washing her hair and relaxed into the bath, the door knock and
Seth's voice came again. "Time's up, Cicely."

At his words, she scrambled in the water.

"Just a minute—so soon, wait up."

Hearing her voice still brimming with energy, Seth didn’t say anything and waited.

Cicely stepped out of the bathtub and gave herself a quick rinse under the shower before slipping
into Seth's oversized shirt and opening the door.

Steam billowed from the bathroom, clouding the air. As the door swung open, Seth had to squint to
make out the figure in the doorway. The steam was thick from her hot bath, leaving her face flushed
and dewy.

The shirt hung loosely on her frame, yet to be adjusted, and her hair cascaded over her shoulders,
dripping wet at the ends.

Seth frowned slightly, "What on earth were you doing in there for half an hour?"

Emerging from the bedroom, Cicely retorted, "Half an hour? You know how long it takes just to wash
this hair of mine? I barely soaked in the tub before stepping out." Her voice was laced with

dissatisfaction and complaint.

Muttering, she stepped out of the bathroom when Seth suddenly grabbed her. "What's up?" Cicely
asked, puzzled.

"Don't tell me you have a habit of not blow-drying your hair after a shower."

"It's pretty uncomfortable, true." Cicely ran her fingers through her hair, sending droplets flying onto
Seth.

Seth’s gaze lingered on the dripping ends of her hair, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Cicely wrinkled her nose, "Washing my hair is exhausting, toweling it off is a pain, and blow-drying
is the worst. My arms get so sore every time."

"Why not just cut it short if it's such a hassle?" Seth's voice was low and husky, as if his words were
coated with a hint of bourbon, creating a somewhat seductive illusion.

"Because it's beautiful," Cicely said straightforwardly, looking up at him. "Don't give me that 'inner
beauty' spiel. Whoever came up with that was full of it. We're all visual creatures. If you're not
caught by the looks, who's going to take the time to see the inner beauty?"

Seth's eyes lifted slowly, giving her a once-over before he retreated into the bathroom, reemerging
with a clean towel and a hairdryer in hand. "You've got nothing but appearances."

Cicely nodded, "I guess so. But being pretty is enough. One of these days, when you take me out,
I'll make sure you look good, too."

"Let's go to the balcony," Seth instructed dryly.

Cicely did as told, moving to the balcony where Seth draped the towel over her head before
plugging in the hairdryer.

Watching her lazily towel her hair on the spot, he tugged her closer, his touch devoid of gentleness.
Cicely bumped into him, unprepared for the vigorous towel-drying.

"Can't you be a little gentler.." She complained but wrapped her arms around Seth's waist.

"Later on," Cicely continued, "I'll be in charge of looking gorgeous, and you can take care of earning
a living and supporting the family, okay?"

"That sounds like you've got the easier job."

"How's that?" She tilted her head back, her chin resting against his chest, her radiant face wearing a
soft, innocent smile. "I have to take care of you, and our future kids. How many do you want?"

Seth looked down at her for a moment, his gaze unreadable, his voice slightly hoarse, "How many
do you want?"

"Hmm." Cicely drew out the sound as if deeply contemplating the question, "I don't know, maybe
start with two?"

Seth gave a half-smile, "We could afford them."

Cicely beamed, "That's true. Then maybe we'll have a few more." She moved to bury her head in
his chest again but he held her head still, stopping her motion.