The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Alex) novel Chapter 190

hapter 190

Olivia

After a decadent breakfast delivered by room service, we headed out into the light London drizzle. Alexander insisted on stopping at the concierge desk, where he obtained a large black umbrella emblazoned with the hotel’s logo.

“Can’t have my wife getting wet,” he said, opening it as we stepped outside.

“Your wife could have packed an umbrella if someone had mentioned London weather,” I replied.

“But then I wouldn’t get to play the gallant husband,” he countered, offering his arm.

Covent Garden was charming, a cobblestoned plaza filled with boutiques, cafés, and street performers. We wandered through the Apple Market, admiring handcrafted jewelry and artwork. Alexander kept steering me toward luxury boutiques, but I was more interested in the quirky independent shops.

“You don’t need to buy me anything,” I protested when he suggested we look at a jewelry store.

“I know I don’t need to,” he replied. “But I want to. A memento of your first trip to London.”

“Fine, but nothing extravagant,” I conceded. “Something small I can wear every day to remember this.”

We settled on a delicate silver bracelet with a tiny charm shaped like the London Eye. Alexander insisted on having it wrapped even though I wanted to wear it immediately.

“Patience,” he teased. “Good things come to those who wait.”

We continued exploring until it was time for Alexander to head to his meeting. He escorted me back to the hotel, where I decided to indulge in a bath in the enormous marble tub while he was gone.

Soaking in fragrant bubbles, I called Emilia.

“Oh my god, you’re in London!” she squealed when she answered. “How is it? Is it raining? Have you seen the Queen? Wait, she’s dead. Have you seen the King?”

I laughed, stretching out in the massive tub. “It’s amazing. Yes, it’s raining. No royal sightings yet, but I’ve only been here a few hours.”

“And how’s the suite? I bet it’s ridiculous.”

“Beyond ridiculous,” I confirmed.

“Take pictures of everything,” she demanded. “I need to live vicariously through you.”

“Will do. Alexander’s at a meeting now, but we’re going to dinner at some fancy place tonight.”

“Ooh, wear that black dress with the low back,” Emilia suggested. “The one that makes your boobs look amazing.”

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“Why is everyone so focused on how my breasts look in various dresses?”

“Because they’re spectacular and you should use all your assets,” Emilia replied without missing a beat.

“I’m hanging up now,” I threatened.

“Fine, fine. Go have your European adventure. But I want details when you get back!”

After my bath, I decided to take a short nap to combat the jet lag. I woke to the sound of the suite door opening and Alexander calling my name.

“In the bedroom,” I called back, sitting up and running a hand through my tousled hair.

He appeared in the doorway, looking unfairly handsome in his business suit. “Had a good rest?”

“Mmm,” I nodded, stretching. “How was your meeting?”

“Productive. The London office is performing above projections.” He loosened his tie and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” I admitted.

“Dinner reservations are at eight. We have time for a walk along the Embankment if you’d like.”

“Sounds perfect. Just let me get dressed.”

I opted for jeans and a sweater, with a light jacket for the evening chill. Alexander changed into more casual attire as well, and soon we were strolling along the Thames as the city lights began to twinkle in the twilight.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, watching a tour boat glide past, its windows glowing warmly.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Alexander replied, his arm around my shoulders.

I rolled my eyes. “That was cheesy, even for you.”

“But effective,” he noted, seeing my smile. “You like it when I’m cheesy.”

“I tolerate it,” I corrected, bumping my hip against his.

“Liar,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my temple.

We continued our walk, stopping occasionally to admire the view or read the historical plaques. It felt surprisingly normal, like any couple enjoying an evening stroll, not a CEO and his contract wife on an international business trip.

Dinner was at a Michelin–starred restaurant where the staff greeted Alexander by name. We were shown to a secluded corner table with an excellent view of the Thames.

“You’ve been here before,” I observed as the sommelier approached with a bottle Alexander hadn’t even

ordered.

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“A few times,” he admitted. “Their tasting menu is excellent.”

“Mr. Carter’s usual, sir?” the sommelier asked, presenting the bottle.

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“Yes, thank you,” Alexander replied. “Unless my wife would prefer something else?”

“I defer to your expertise,” I said, amused by how the staff treated him like royalty.

The meal was extraordinary, a parade of artistic dishes accompanied by perfectly paired wines. Alexander watched with pleasure as I savored each bite.

“You’re staring,” I noted between courses.

“I enjoy watching you experience new things,” he said. “Your face is so expressive.”

“Is that a nice way of saying I have no poker face?”

“It’s a nice way of saying I find your enthusiasm refreshing.” His hand found mine across the table. “Most people I dine with are too concerned with appearances to actually enjoy their food.”

“Well, I’m definitely enjoying this,” I assured him, taking another sip of the exquisite wine. “Though I’m afraid my palate isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate all the nuances.”

“Nonsense. You know what you like. That’s all that matters.”

After dinner, we returned to the hotel, pleasantly full and slightly tipsy from the wine. In the elevator, Alexander pulled me against him, his hands settling on my waist.

“Have I told you how glad I am that you came with me?” he murmured.

“Not in the last hour,” I teased, resting my hands on his chest.

“I’m very glad,” he said, bending to brush his lips against mine just as the elevator doors opened.

In our suite, Alexander opened a bottle of champagne while I kicked off my shoes and curled up on one of the plush sofas.

“To your first night in London,” he said, handing me a flute of golden bubbles.

“To new experiences,” I countered, clinking my glass against his.