The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Ryan) novel Chapter 200

Chapter 200

Olivia

We stood there for several minutes, watching boats pass and lights dance on the water. Other couples strolled by, some arm in arm, others holding hands. To any observer, we probably looked like just another pair of tourists enjoying a romantic evening in London.

The thought should have felt false. Instead, it felt dangerously close to reality.

“Cold?” Alexander asked, feeling me shiver.

“A little.”

“Let’s head back. We can order dessert from room service. I know you didn’t get enough food at the pub because you were too busy plotting Sophie’s demise.”

“I ate plenty!”

“You shredded your fish like it personally offended you. That’s not eating, that’s assault.”

I turned in his arms to face him. “Fine. Dessert sounds good. But only if it’s chocolate.”

“Anything you want.” His hands settled on my hips, holding me close. The streetlamps cast shadows across his face, making his features look sharper, more defined. Beautiful.

I went up on my toes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before I could overthink it. “Let’s go before I freeze to death.”

The hotel room wrapped around us in warm luxury as we returned from the river. Alexander closed the door behind us, and the quiet intimacy of the space settled over my shoulders like a blanket.

He pulled two small bottles of whiskey and ice from the bar cart and poured generous measures into crystal glasses. The amber liquid caught the lamplight and glowed like captured sunshine.

I kicked off my shoes and sank onto the plush sofa, tucking my legs beneath me. The city lights sparkled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, London spreading out below us in a glittering tapestry.

Alexander handed me a glass before settling beside me, close enough that his thigh pressed against mine. The warmth of him seeped through the fabric of my jeans.

The whiskey burned pleasantly down my throat, smooth and expensive. Everything in Alexander’s world was expensive. I was getting used to it, which probably should have worried me more than it did.

“She really got under your skin, Alexander observed, his fingers playing with a strand of my hair.

“She was practically humping your leg while her husband waited outside. That’s not getting under my skin, that’s just basic human decency being offended.”

His laugh rumbled through his chest. “Fair point.”

We drank in comfortable silence for a while, watching the city lights. Alexander’s hand drifted to my shoulder, his thumb tracing lazy circles that made my skin tingle beneath my sweater.

“Come here,” he murmured, tugging me closer.

I shifted until I was tucked against his side, my head resting on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around me, holding me secure. This felt different from the heated intensity of our usual encounters. Softer. More intimate in ways that had nothing to do with sex.

“This is nice,” I admitted quietly.

“Yeah.” His lips brushed my temple. “It is.”

The whiskey warmed my blood, relaxing muscles I hadn’t realized were tense. Alexander’s fingers traced patterns on my arm, gentle and unhurried. His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear.

“What time do your meetings start tomorrow?” I asked, my words slightly muffled against his shirt.

“Nine. Should be done by three. Thought we could do Tower Bridge after, like I mentioned. Unless you’ve changed your mind about the glass floor.”

“I’m terrified,” I confessed. “But I want to do it anyway.”

“That’s my girl.” His arm tightened around me. “Always pushing yourself.”

My girl. The casual possessiveness in his words should have annoyed me. Instead, it sent warmth flooding through my chest.

We finished our drinks slowly, and neither of us was in any hurry to move. The whiskey left me pleasantly fuzzy at the edges, relaxed and content in a way I hadn’t felt in months.

“Should probably get some sleep,” Alexander said eventually, his voice rough with fatigue.

“Probably,” I agreed, but made no move to get up.

“You’re falling asleep on me.”

“Your fault for being comfortable.”

“Can’t have that.” In one smooth motion, Alexander stood and scooped me up, carrying me toward the bedroom.

“I can walk,” I protested without much conviction.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He deposited me on the enormous bed with surprising gentleness before disappearing into the bathroom. I heard water running, the sound of his toothbrush. The mundane domesticity of it struck me as oddly

intimate.

By the time he returned, I’d changed into my nightgown and was already under the covers. Alexander

stripped down to his boxers unselfconsciously before sliding in beside me.

“Come here,” he said again, pulling me against him.

I went willingly, my back pressing against his chest. His arm draped over my waist, holding me close. The heat of him seeped into my skin, chasing away the slight chill of the air conditioning.

“Night, Liv,” he murmured against my hair.

“Night, Alex.”

Sleep came easily, wrapped in Alexander’s warmth with the soft sounds of London outside our window.

Morning arrived with weak sunlight filtering through the curtains and the smell of coffee. I opened my eyes to find Alexander already dressed in another impeccable suit, two steaming mugs on the bedside table.

“Morning,” he said, catching me watching him. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good.” I sat up, accepting the coffee he offered. “You?”

“Better than usual.” He sat on the edge of the bed, sipping his own coffee. “I have to leave in twenty minutes. Geoffrey will be available if you need to go anywhere.”

“I might explore a bit. Maybe hit some shops.”

“Use the black card,” he said, pulling it from his wallet and setting it on the nightstand. “Get whatever you

want.”

“Alexander, I don’t need—’

“I know you don’t need it. But I want you to have it anyway.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to my “Indulge me.”

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