The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Ryan) novel Chapter 90

hapter 90

Olivia

I lay in the darkness, acutely aware of his presence beside me. Despite the enormous bed, I could feel the heat radiating from his body. I shifted, trying to get comfortable.

“Can’t sleep?” his voice came through the darkness.

“Just adjusting,” I replied. “It’s a new bed.”

“And a new husband,” he added, a smile in his voice.

“That too.”

Would it help if I moved to one of the guest rooms?”

The offer surprised me. “No, that’s… It’s fine. We’re adults. We can share a bed.”

Just because we can doesn’t mean we should,” he said. “I meant what I said on the plane. I can be patient.”

rolled onto my side to face him, though I could barely make out his silhouette in the dark. “Why did you really bring me here, Alexander? The whole island to ourselves, this massive bedroom… it feels like you expected more than sleep.”

I hoped,” he admitted. “But I didn’t expect. There’s a difference.”

What exactly did you hope for?”

felt him shift closer, his voice dropping lower. “I hoped you might realize how compatible we could be. In all ways.”

My heart pounded as his hand found mine under the covers. “This is moving very fast.”

‘We’re already married,” he pointed out. “Hard to move faster than that.”

I laughed despite myself. “You know what I mean.”

His thumb traced circles on my palm, sending shivers up my arm. “I do. And I’ll respect whatever pace you set. But I won’t pretend I don’t want you.”

“I just need time to adjust to all this. The wedding, the contract, being Mrs. Carter.”

“You’re adjusting remarkably well,” he said, squeezing my hand once before releasing it. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow we can explore the island.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, grateful for his understanding.

“For what?”

“Not pushing.”

I felt rather than saw his smile. “I told you, I can be patient. Especially when the reward is worth waiting for.”

The implied compliment warmed me as I closed my eyes, exhaustion finally overtaking me.

I woke to sunlight streaming through the massive windows and the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below. For a

1/3

Chapter 90

moment, I forgot where I was, the unfamiliar surroundings disorienting me.

Then I remembered: honeymoon. Island. Alexander.

I turned to find his side of the bed empty, the sheets cool to the touch. He’d been up for a while.

I padded to the windows and gasped at the view. In daylight, the panorama was even more spectacular; endless blue ocean meeting an equally blue sky, with lush greenery framing the scene.

After using the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I changed into shorts and a t–shirt from the carefully stocked closet and went in search of my new husband.

I found him on the main terrace, shirtless in board shorts, drinking coffee while reviewing something on his tablet. He looked up as I approached, his eyes warming.

“Morning,” Alexander said, his voice warm and inviting. “Sleep well?”

I tried not to stare at his chest, the defined muscles catching the morning sunlight. “Better than expected. The bed is amazing.”

‘Perks of being a Carter,” he said with a slight smirk, setting his tablet down. “Coffee?”

‘God, yes. Please.”

He poured me a cup from the silver carafe on the table.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the cup and sitting in the chair beside him. The coffee was perfect, rich and smooth without being bitter.

Breakfast should be ready soon,” Alexander said, leaning back in his chair. “I told the chef to prepare a little of everything. Wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for.”

You have a chef here?” I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course, Alexander Carter would have a chef, even on a private sland.

Chef Miguel. He’s fantastic. Trained in Paris but specializes in incorporating local ingredients.” Alexander sipped his coffee. Wait until you try his coconut French toast. It’s incredible.”

As if on cue, a man in crisp white appeared at the terrace entrance. “Breakfast is served, Mr. Carter.”

Alexander stood, offering me his hand. “Shall we?”

I took it, feeling the warmth of his palm against mine as he led me to a different section of the terrace where an elaborate breakfast spread awaited us.

The table was set with fine china and crystal, fresh tropical flowers in the center, and more food than four people could eat. Fresh fruit platters, pastries, eggs Benedict, pancakes, and dishes I couldn’t even identify.

“This is excessive,” I said, taking a seat.

“Miguel likes to show off for new guests. Especially when they’re my wife.”

The word still sent a strange flutter through me. Wife. Mrs. Carter.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify