The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Ryan) novel Chapter 201

Chapter 201

Olivia

I finished my lunch leisurely before heading back toward the hotel. The afternoon passed quickly as I worked on some campaign materials in the suite’s office, video chatting with Ava about design elements.

At precisely three o’clock, my phone rang.

“I’m downstairs,” Alexander said when I answered. “Ready?”

“Give me five minutes.”

I grabbed my jacket and purse, checking my reflection one last time before heading down. Alexander waited in the lobby, his tie loosened and jacket slung over one arm. He looked tired, but his face lit up when he saw

“Hey,” he said, pulling me in for a quick kiss. “Miss me?”

“Desperately. I’ve been counting the seconds.”

“Liar.” But he smiled, keeping his arm around my waist as we headed outside, where Geoffrey waited with the

car.

Tower Bridge was even more impressive up close. The Victorian Gothic towers loomed overhead, and intricate stonework and gleaming walkways connected them high above the Thames.

“Ready?” Alexander asked as we entered the tower.

“No. But let’s do it anyway.”

The glass floor walkway was everything I’d feared and more. Standing 138 feet above the river with nothing but transparent panels between me and the water below made my stomach drop to my feet.

“Oh god,” I breathed, frozen at the entrance.

Alexander’s hand found mine, warm and steady. “I’ve got you. We’ll go slow.”

We inched onto the glass together, my fingers digging into his palm. Below us, boats glided past on the Thames, and people and cars crossed the lower bridge.

“Don’t look down,” I gasped.

“Kind of defeats the purpose,” Alexander pointed out, amused.

“I hate you right now.”

“No, you don’t.”

He was right. His solid presence beside me, his hand anchoring mine, made the terrifying experience almost

bearable. We made it to the middle of the walkway, where I finally managed to look down properly.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “This is insane.”

“But amazing, right?”

“Terrifyingly amazing.”

We spent twenty minutes on the walkway, Alexander patient as I gradually relaxed enough to actually enjoy the view. By the time we headed back down, I felt ridiculously proud of myself.

“I did it,” I announced once we were safely on solid ground.

“You did.” Alexander pulled me close, pressing a kiss to my hair. “I’m proud of you.”

The simple praise warmed me from the inside out.

We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the South Bank, walking along the river as the sun began its descent. Street performers entertained crowds, the London Eye rotating slowly against the darkening sky.

“Hungry?” Alexander asked as we passed a row of food stalls.

“Yes.”

We grabbed fish tacos from a vendor and found a bench overlooking the river. The food was simple but delicious, eaten with our fingers while watching boats pass.

“This is perfect,” I said, licking sauce from my thumb.

Alexander watched me with an intensity that made heat pool low in my belly. “Yeah. It is.”

The sun set in streaks of orange and pink, the city lights beginning to twinkle. People flowed around us, couples and families and groups of friends, everyone enjoying the beautiful evening.

“We should head back,” Alexander said eventually. “I made reservations at eight.”

“Fancy?”

“Very. You’ll need to change.”

Back at the hotel, I showered and put on the little black dress I’d packed specifically for fancy dinners. It hugged my curves perfectly, the neckline showing just enough cleavage to be interesting without being

obscene.

Alexander emerged from the bathroom in a fresh suit, his hair still damp. His eyes darkened when he saw me.

“Christ, Liv. You’re trying to kill me.”

“Just trying to look presentable for your fancy restaurant.”

“Presentable.” He crossed to me, his hands settling on my hips. “You’re fucking stunning.”

His mouth found mine in a kiss that started gentle but quickly turned hungry. His hands slid down to cup my ass, pulling me flush against him.

“We’re going to be late,” I gasped when we broke apart.

“Worth it.”

But he released me, straightening his tie in the mirror. “Later. I’m taking you out properly first.”

Dinner was at a restaurant with a Michelin star and a waiting list that apparently didn’t apply to Alexander Carter. The food was exquisite, each course more elaborate than the last.

“This is incredible,” I said after the fourth course, some kind of deconstructed fish dish that tasted like heaven.

“Wait until dessert.”

The dessert was indeed spectacular, a chocolate creation that involved liquid nitrogen and edible gold leaf. It seemed almost too beautiful to eat.

“Thank you for this,” I said as we finished our wine. “Today was perfect.”

“Even the terrifying glass floor?”

“Especially the terrifying glass floor.”

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