Chapter 46

Olivia

I took another sip of wine, letting the rich flavor coat my tongue. “This food is incredible. I can’t believe Giorgio’s made this

for takeout.”

“I told you, they make exceptions for me.” Alexander reached for his wine glass, his fingers brushing mine in the process. “I find most establishments are willing to bend their rules for the right incentive.”

“Is that how you approach everything in life? Throwing money at problems until they go away?”

“Not everything. Some problems require a more… hands–on approach.”

The way he said “hands–on” made my skin tingle. I cleared my throat and reached for the tiramisu container, needing a distraction.

“Dessert?” I offered, prying open the lid.

“Always.” His eyes held mine, making it clear we weren’t just talking about food.

I broke eye contact first, focusing on dividing the tiramisu onto two plates. My hands weren’t quite steady, and I silently cursed myself for reacting so strongly to him.

“This looks amazing,” Lsaid, passing him a plate and deliberately avoiding his fingers this time.

“Giorgio’s pastry chef trained in Florence,” Alexander replied, accepting the dessert. “He refuses to share his tiramisu recipe, even with me.”

“Even with the great Alexander Carter?” I teased, taking a bite and closing my eyes at the perfect balance of coffee, mascarpone, and cocoa. “God, that’s good.”

When I opened my eyes, Alexander was watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle with awareness.

“What?” I asked, suddenly self–conscious.

“You make the most fascinating expressions when you eat.” His voice had dropped lower. “It’s… distracting.”

my food like a

normal about the way your lips part when you take a bite.” He took a sip of wine, eyes never leaving mine. ‘Or the

don’t make

leaned closer. “I wonder if

my

observant,” he corrected, taking a

moments, but the air between us

name.

tiramisu?” I asked,

1/3

of mine?” Before I could answer, he held out his fork

leaned forward and accepted the bite anyway. Our eyes locked as my lips

his voice rougher than

unable to form words for

better

punctuated only by the clink

swallowed, how his fingers curled around his wineglass, and

came to rest on my knee, a casual touch that felt

setting my own plate aside. “It was exactly what

mine,” he replied, his thumb making small circles

him but made no move to remove his

a contract that says

marry

private…” He

my ribs. “I don’t

idle patterns on my thigh, each touch sending sparks through my body. “What would

then?”

being presumptuous,” I shot back,

said

blinked at him.

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