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.”

my cheeks. “Maybe I just wanted a

to face me fully, one arm draped over the steering wheel. “Or maybe you’re curious about what it would be

still humming with unwanted attraction. “I’m only Miss Morgan. Not Mrs.

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16:43

Chapter 17

saying.” He shrugged, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his

car’s interior suddenly felt too small,

tomorrow.” I said, reaching

Olivia.” His voice was

stepped out of the car, feeling his eyes on

letting them clatter against the wall. The red dress

I muttered, reaching behind to unzip the dress. It slid down my body, pooling at my feet like expensive liquid. I stepped out

as I unhooked my bra, sighing with relief as they were finally free. I peeled off my

flopped onto my

I opened Emilia’s chat.

Me: You up?

three dots appeared, indicating she

Emilia: Yeah, what’s up?

stared at the screen, debating whether to tell her

considering it. Or maybe she’d

Not yet. This was too bizarre, too complicated. I needed to make this

What

How are you holding

bluntness. Emilia

I’m good,

way to get over someone is

Me: EMILIA!

saying! Plenty of hot guys out there

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