The CEO's Contractual Wife

Chapter 80

Olivia

“Your grandmother is surprisingly nice,” I said, perched on the edge of his couch.

“Margaret’s always had good instincts about people.” Alexander loosened his tie, the simple action drawing my attention to his strong hands. “She liked you.”

“Victoria definitely didn’t.”

“Victoria doesn’t like anyone who threatens her plans. He sat beside me, close enough that our knees almost touched. “Don’t take it personally.”

I took another sip of whiskey, letting the alcohol calm my nerves. “So what’s next?”

Alexander’s eyebrow arched. “Sleep, unless you had something else in mind?”

Heat rushed to my face. “That’s not what I meant. I meant what’s next before the marriage? We’ve met your family, and then what?”

“We need to meet your family,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “I was thinking we could have the wedding in a few weeks. It would be a small ceremony, just close family and friends”

“Okay,” I replied, the reality of our situation hitting me anew. In a few weeks, I would be Mrs. Carter, at least on paper.

Alexander set his empty glass on the coffee table and turned to face me fully. “You seem tense.”

“Meeting your family was intense.” I finished my drink and placed it next to his. “Your grandfather is something else.”

surprising me. He

me a ‘fine young woman.

Absolutely.” His lips curved into a genuine smile.

suddenly exhausted. The emotional toll of the evening, pretending to be in love with Alexander,

well tonight,” Alexander said softly. “Better than I

vote of confidence,”

His hand found mine, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. “You handled Victoria perfectly. Most people

cower or overreact.”

tried to ignore how good his touch felt.

exactly what she

palm, each sweep sending tingles up my arm. I should pull away. This wasn’t part of our agreement, these casual

finally, his voice deeper than before.

nodded, suddenly nervous about sharing

1/3

Chapter 80

first,” I said, standing up

nodded. “The closet

closet room, flipping on the light. The space still overwhelmed me with its boutique–like

containing silk pajama sets in various colors and styles. My fingers traced over the delicate

drawer. The emerald set I’d worn earlier was beautiful but definitely not made for sleeping. I decided to skip underwear entirely, which was one less

washed my face and brushed my teeth. The face wash smelled

the counter. Naked, I caught my reflection in the mirror and paused. My nipples

overthinking,” I muttered, pulling on the pajama shorts and buttoning up the top. The silk felt

to his waist. The sight of his bare chest, all defined muscle and smooth skin, made my