The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Olivia

Alexander got in and started the car. “You’re quiet,” he observed as he pulled into traffic.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how fucking insane this whole situation is,” I said, turning to look at him. “You’re my boss. You’ve offered me a marriage contract worth millions of dollars. And now we just had dinner at your penthouse, where you cooked for me-”

“My chef cooked for us,” he corrected.

“Whatever. The point is, none of this is normal.”

“Normal is overrated,” Alexander said, his eyes locked on mine as he navigated through the quiet streets of LA.

“So is being cryptic,” I shot back. “Yet here you are, mastering the art.”

His lips quirked up at the corner. “You think I’m being cryptic? I’m the most straightforward man you’ll ever meet.”

“Right. Because normal men propose marriage contracts to women they barely know.”

“I never claimed to be normal.” He glanced over before returning to the road. “And I think you’re less normal than you pretend to be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, turning onto my street, “that a normal woman wouldn’t be considering my offer. She’d have slapped me and walked out.”

“Who says I’m considering it?”

“The fact that you’re sitting in my car right now.” He pulled up to the curb outside my building and cut the engine. “The fact that you wore that dress.”

“Maybe I

arm draped over the steering wheel. “Or maybe you’re curious about what it

my eyes at him, my body still humming with unwanted

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Chapter 17

shrugged, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “The offer stands. I need your an- swer

interior suddenly felt too

meet you tomorrow.” I said,

was a caress

of the car, feeling his eyes on my ass

kicked off my heels, letting them clatter against the wall. The red dress clung

like expensive liquid. I stepped out of it, scooped it up, and tossed it

finally free. I peeled off my damp panties and padded naked to my dresser, pulling out an oversized t-shirt

I flopped onto my

I opened Emilia’s chat.

Me: You up?

appeared, indicating she

Emilia: Yeah, what’s up?

at the screen, debating whether to tell her

over the keyboard. What would she say? Probably that I was crazy for even considering it. Or maybe she’d tell me to go for

bizarre, too complicated. I needed to make this decision on my

What are

How are you holding up? Any more

smiled at her bluntness. Emilia never minced

I’m good, actually. Surprisingly

That’s my girl! You know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under

Me: EMILIA!

of hot guys out there who’d

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