The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 46

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.”

just enjoying my food like a normal

part when you take a bite.” He took a sip of wine, eyes never leaving mine. ‘Or the little

don’t make sounds,”

Little moans. Sighs.” He leaned closer. “I wonder if you make similar noises in

flooded my cheeks. “You’re

he corrected, taking a bite of his own

for a few moments, but the air between us had shifted, becoming charged

name.

your tiramisu?” I asked,

1/3

could answer, he held out his fork with a

his fork, yet I leaned forward and accepted the bite anyway. Our eyes locked as my lips closed around the fork, and I saw

his voice

nodded, unable to form words for a moment.

tastes better this way,” he

the clink of forks against plates and the occasional

every movement Alexander made, the way his throat worked when he swallowed, how his fingers curled around

came to rest on my knee, a

you for dinner,” I said, setting my own plate aside. “It was exactly what

of what’s mine,” he replied, his thumb making small circles on

yours,” I reminded him but made no

contract

to marry you. Not

hand slid slightly higher on my thigh. “In public, you’re mine. In private…” He paused, his eyes dropping to my lips. “Well, that’s what

against my ribs. “I don’t recall any

idle patterns on my thigh, each touch sending sparks through

then?”

I shot back, but

here,” he said

at

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