The CEO's Contractual Wife
Chapter 59
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.
like comfort,” he replied simply.
escape house in the middle
mine, something unreadable in
“Starving, I admitted,
“Good. Let’s cook”
refrigerator and began pulling out ingredients: fresh pasta, cherry tomatoes, basil, garlic,
keep it simple tonight,” he said, setting everything on the marble countertop. “Pasta Pomodoro. Do
cook?”
can follow a recipe,” I said, watching him
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Chapter 59
be my sous chef.” He handed me a knife and cutting board. “Halve
the tiny tomatoes while Alexander filled a pot with water and set it on the stove. He
did you learn to cook?” I
mine is a chef.
watched his confident movements and the way his hands worked with practiced ease. “Must
best,” he replied, not elaborating
an ex–girlfriend or lover who’d taken the time to teach him these skills. The thought
stir this while I grate the cheese,” he said,
down in the pan, releasing their sweet–tart aroma. Alexander moved behind me to reach for
he murmured, though he didn’t
I replied, keeping my eyes
me. I could feel his body heat and
looking?” he asked, leaning over
They’re starting to
ear, making goosebumps rise on
of salt, his arm brushing against mine. The pasta water began to boil over,
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