The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Ryan) novel Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Olivia

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to his penthouse. He gestured for me to exit first, his hand hovering at the small of my back without quite touching me.

“This way,” he said, leading me past the living area I’d seen during our dinner.

We walked down a hallway I hadn’t explored before, passing several closed doors until Alexander stopped at the end of the corridor. He pressed his palm against a sleek panel on the wall, and the door slid open silently.

“What the fuck?” I blurted, stepping into what looked like a high-end boutique.

The room was massive, easily the size of my entire apartment. Racks of clothing lined the walls, with dresses, skirts, and blouses all organized by color and style. Glass cases displayed jewelry and accessories. A three-way mirror domi- nated one corner, with a raised platform in front of it.

“You have an entire store in your penthouse?” I turned to Alexander, who looked completely unfazed by my shock.

“I like my guests to have options,” he said simply.

“Options?” I echoed, running my fingers along a rack of dresses that probably cost more than my monthly salary. “This is insane. How many women have you brought here?”

“Enough.” His tone made it clear the subject was closed.

I tried to ignore the pang of jealousy that shot through me. What did I care how many women he’d slept with? This was business, not romance.

“See anything you like?” Alexander asked, moving deeper into the room.

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite my racing heart. “It’s all a bit much.”

He ran his fingers along a rack of dresses, stopping at a midnight blue number that shimmered under the recessed lighting. “This one,” he said decisively, pulling it from the rack.

The dress was stunning. A silky, form-fitting piece with a plunging neckline and an open back that would dip danger- ously low. I swallowed hard.

“I’m not wearing that.”

“Why not?” He held it against me, his knuckles brushing against my collarbone. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s practically transparent.”

“It’s Versace.”

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“I don’t care if it’s made by God himself,” I shot back. “I’m not going out in public wearing something that barely cov-

ass.”

ers my

Alexander’s lips twitched with amusement. “Fine.” He replaced the dress and selected a red number with a more mod- est neckline but a thigh-high slit. “This one, then.”

I eyed it warily. “Has someone else worn it?”

“No.” He flipped the tag hanging from the sleeve. “Everything here is new. I don’t recycle women’s clothing.”

I examined the price tag and nearly choked. “$3,400 for a dress?”

“Is that a problem?”

“It’s obscene.”

He shrugged. “Quality costs money.” He handed me the dress. “You’ll need undergarments as well.”

My face heated. “I’m wearing undergarments.”

His eyes dropped to my chest, lingering long enough to make my nipples tighten involuntarily. “Not the right kind for this dress.”

Before I could protest, he walked to a drawer and pulled it open, revealing an array of lingerie still in packaging. He selected a black lace bra and matching thong and tossed them onto the dress in my arms.

“These should fit,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t selected underwear for me.

“How would you know my size?” I demanded.

His eyes swept over me again, slowly, taking in every curve. “I have an eye for these things.”

My face burned hotter. “I need a fitting room.”

“There isn’t one.”

“What?” I glanced around the massive space. “How can you have all this but no fitting room?”

“This isn’t a department store, Olivia. It’s my home.” His voice dropped lower. “Change here.”

“In front of you?” My voice squeaked embarrassingly. “Absolutely not.”

“The contract does stipulate physical relations,” he reminded me, his eyes darkening. “I’ll see you naked eventually.”

“Eventually doesn’t mean tonight,” I snapped. “Turn around or leave.”

Alexander’s jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. For a moment, I thought he might argue, but then he nodded curtly.

“I’ll wait outside. Don’t take too long. We have reservations at eight.”

The door closed behind him softly, and I released the breath I’d been holding. My hands trembled slightly as I set the

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Chapter 25

dress on a nearby chair and examined the lingerie. The tags confirmed they were new, thank god.

I stripped quickly, folding my work clothes neatly. The bra fit perfectly, cupping my breasts and lifting them higher than my practical everyday underwear. The thong was barely there, a wisp of lace that disappeared between my ass

cheeks.

The dress slid over my skin like water, cool and smooth. It hugged every curve, the fabric clinging to my hips and breasts. When I moved, the slit revealed a generous portion of my thigh, and the neckline showcased more cleavage than I’d ever displayed in public.

I turned to the mirror and gasped softly. The woman staring back looked like a stranger-sexy, sophisticated, expen- sive. I ran my hands down my sides, marveling at the transformation.

A small makeup station sat in the corner, stocked with high-end cosmetics still in their packaging. I applied a smoky eye and red lipstick to match the dress, then fluffed my hair for extra volume.

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