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.”

my food like a normal

nothing normal about the way your lips part when you take a bite.” He

don’t make

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

flooded my cheeks. “You’re

a bite of his

the air between us had shifted, becoming charged

name.

your tiramisu?” I asked, desperate to break the

1/3

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

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

asked, his voice rougher

form words for

it tastes better

punctuated only by the clink

Alexander made, the way his throat worked when he swallowed, how his fingers curled around his wineglass, and the slight shift of

came to rest on my knee, a casual touch

said, setting my own plate aside. “It was

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

but made

signed a contract

marry you. Not to

private…” He paused, his eyes dropping to my lips. “Well, that’s what we’re

ribs. “I don’t

my thigh, each touch sending sparks through my body. “What would you

then?”

shot back,

here,” he said suddenly, patting his

at

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