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.”

food like

bite.” He took a sip

make sounds,”

moans. Sighs.” He leaned closer. “I

flooded my cheeks. “You’re

a

but the air between us had shifted, becoming charged with

name.

your tiramisu?” I asked, desperate

1/3

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

an intimate gesture to share food from his fork, yet I leaned forward and accepted the bite anyway. Our

his voice rougher than

to form words for a moment. “Same

it tastes better this

dessert, the silence punctuated only by the clink of forks against plates and the occasional sip

throat worked when he swallowed, how his fingers curled around his wineglass, and the slight shift of his body that brought

his empty plate down, his hand came to rest on my knee, a casual touch that felt

said, setting my own plate aside. “It was exactly what I needed

of what’s mine,” he replied,

I reminded him but made no move

contract

signed a contract agreeing to marry you. Not to

He paused, his eyes

hammered against my ribs. “I don’t

touch

then?”

presumptuous,” I shot back,

he said suddenly,

blinked at

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