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.”

flooded my cheeks. “Maybe I just wanted

the steering wheel. “Or maybe you’re curious about what it would be

still humming

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16:43

Chapter 17

playing at the corners of his mouth. “The

suddenly felt too small, too

meet you tomorrow.” I said, reaching for the

was a caress

out of the car, feeling his eyes on my ass as I walked to my

felt emptier than usual when I stepped inside. I kicked off my heels, letting them clatter against the wall. The red dress clung to my sweaty skin as I moved through the

my body, pooling at my feet like expensive liquid. I stepped out of it, scooped it up, and tossed it over the back

with relief as they were finally free. I peeled off my damp panties and padded naked to my dresser, pulling out an oversized t-shirt and cotton

onto my bed, grabbing

I opened Emilia’s chat.

Me: You up?

dots appeared, indicating

Emilia: Yeah, what’s up?

at the screen, debating whether to tell her about

considering it. Or maybe she’d tell me to go for it. Emilia had

was too bizarre, too complicated.

major. What are you

the shower. How are you holding up?

bluntness. Emilia never minced

I’m good, actually. Surprisingly

You know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. You should totally put yourself out

Me: EMILIA!

of hot guys out there who’d

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