Chapter 59

Olivia

He led me to the master bedroom at the end of the hall, a sprawling space dominated by a massive bed with ocean views. The sheets were crisp white, and the duvet was a deep navy that matched the accent wall behind the headboard.

“This is where I sleep,” he said simply.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, drawn to the wall of windows overlooking the cliff and ocean below. “Do you ever worry about privacy with all this glass?”

“The nearest neighbor is half a mile away, and the glass is treated. We can see out, but no one can see in.”

“We?” I raised an eyebrow.

Alexander’s lips quirked. “Figure of speech.”

He moved to sliding glass doors that opened onto a private deck extending from the bedroom. Outside, a hot tub bubbled quietly, steam rising into the cool night air.

“For stargazing,” he explained. “Light pollution is minimal here.”

I stepped onto the deck, the wooden boards warm beneath my feet. The vastness of the ocean stretched before us, moonlight creating a silver path across the water.

“It’s incredible.” I breathed.

“Worth every penny,” Alexander agreed, standing close enough that I could feel his body heat. “There’s one more place I want to show you.”

He led me back through the house to another deck on the opposite side. This one featured an infinity pool that seemed to merge with the horizon, glowing blue in the darkness.

“The pool’s heated year–round,” he said. “Nothing like swimming under the stars.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” I said, genuinely impressed.

comfort,” he replied

in the middle

eyes met mine, something unreadable

“Starving, I admitted,

“Good. Let’s cook”

ingredients: fresh pasta, cherry tomatoes, basil, garlic, olive oil, and a wedge of

he said, setting everything on the marble countertop. “Pasta Pomodoro.

cook?”

follow a recipe,” I said, watching him move confidently around the kitchen. “But I’m no

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Chapter 59

can be my sous chef.” He handed me a knife and cutting board. “Halve the tomatoes while I get the water

began slicing the tiny tomatoes while Alexander filled a pot with water and set it on the stove.

you learn to cook?” I asked,

to the sizzling oil, filling the kitchen with a heavenly aroma. “A friend of mine is a chef. Taught me the basics

hands worked with practiced ease. “Must

of the best,” he replied, not elaborating

to teach him these skills. The thought sent me an unexpected pang of jealousy,

I grate the cheese,” he said,

moved behind me to reach for the parmesan, his chest brushing against

though he didn’t sound sorry at

keeping

me. I could feel his body heat and smell his cologne mixed with the garlic and tomatoes. The kitchen suddenly felt much

over my

think? They’re starting

my ear, making goosebumps

mine. The pasta water began to boil over, and I moved quickly to turn down the heat, backing

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