The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Ryan) novel Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Olivia

I took another sip of wine, letting the rich flavor coat my tongue. “This food is incredible. I can’t believe Giorgio’s made this

for takeout.”

“I told you, they make exceptions for me.” Alexander reached for his wine glass, his fingers brushing mine in the process. “I find most establishments are willing to bend their rules for the right incentive.”

“Is that how you approach everything in life? Throwing money at problems until they go away?”

“Not everything. Some problems require a more… hands–on approach.”

The way he said “hands–on” made my skin tingle. I cleared my throat and reached for the tiramisu container, needing a distraction.

“Dessert?” I offered, prying open the lid.

“Always.” His eyes held mine, making it clear we weren’t just talking about food.

I broke eye contact first, focusing on dividing the tiramisu onto two plates. My hands weren’t quite steady, and I silently cursed myself for reacting so strongly to him.

“This looks amazing,” Lsaid, passing him a plate and deliberately avoiding his fingers this time.

“Giorgio’s pastry chef trained in Florence,” Alexander replied, accepting the dessert. “He refuses to share his tiramisu recipe, even with me.”

“Even with the great Alexander Carter?” I teased, taking a bite and closing my eyes at the perfect balance of coffee, mascarpone, and cocoa. “God, that’s good.”

When I opened my eyes, Alexander was watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle with awareness.

“What?” I asked, suddenly self–conscious.

“You make the most fascinating expressions when you eat.” His voice had dropped lower. “It’s… distracting.”

“I’m just enjoying my food like a normal person.”

“There’s nothing normal about the way your lips part when you take a bite.” He took a sip of wine, eyes never leaving mine. ‘Or the little sounds you make.”

“I don’t make sounds,” I protested.

“You absolutely do. Little moans. Sighs.” He leaned closer. “I wonder if you make similar noises in other pleasurable situations.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m observant,” he corrected, taking a bite of his own dessert.

We ate in silence for a few moments, but the air between us had shifted, becoming charged with something I wasn’t ready to

name.

“How’s your tiramisu?” I asked, desperate to break the tension.

1/3

“Delicious. Want a taste of mine?” Before I could answer, he held out his fork with a bite.

It was an intimate gesture to share food from his fork, yet I leaned forward and accepted the bite anyway. Our eyes locked as my lips closed around the fork, and I saw his pupils dilate slightly.

“Good?” he asked, his voice rougher than before.

I nodded, unable to form words for a moment. “Same as mine, actually.”

“Somehow, it tastes better this way,” he murmured.

We finished our dessert, the silence punctuated only by the clink of forks against plates and the occasional sip of wine.

I was acutely aware of every movement Alexander made, the way his throat worked when he swallowed, how his fingers curled around his wineglass, and the slight shift of his body that brought him incrementally closer to me.

When he set his empty plate down, his hand came to rest on my knee, a casual touch that felt anything but.

“Thank you for dinner,” I said, setting my own plate aside. “It was exactly what I needed after today.”

“I take care of what’s mine,” he replied, his thumb making small circles on my knee.

“I’m not yours,” I reminded him but made no move to remove his hand.

“You signed a contract that says otherwise.”

“I signed a contract agreeing to marry you. Not to belong to you.”

His hand slid slightly higher on my thigh. “In public, you’re mine. In private…” He paused, his eyes dropping to my lips. “Well, that’s what we’re negotiating now, isn’t it?”

My heart hammered against my ribs. “I don’t recall any negotiation happening.”

“No?” His fingers traced idle patterns on my thigh, each touch sending sparks through my body. “What would you call this,

then?”

You being presumptuous,” I shot back, but my voice lacked conviction.

‘Come here,” he said suddenly, patting his lap.

I blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His voice was commanding, but his eyes held a question. “Come here, Olivia.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you want to.” His confidence should have been infuriating, but instead, it sent a thrill through me. “Because I want you to. Because we both know where this is heading, and we might as well get comfortable with each other.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Always. He patted his lap again. “I promise I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.”

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