The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Alex) novel Chapter 207

Olivia

We stood there on the yacht deck, Paris glittering around us like scattered diamonds. The Eiffel Tower's lights danced on the Seine's dark water, creating paths of gold that rippled with each passing wave.

Alexander's arms tightened around me, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Cold?"

"A little," I admitted, though I didn't want to move from this spot.

He released me only long enough to shrug out of his jacket and drape it over my shoulders. The fabric held his warmth and that clean, expensive scent that was uniquely him.

"Better?"

"Much."

The yacht continued its lazy circuit of the Seine, passing under bridges and gliding past centuries-old buildings. Other boats dotted the water, their windows glowing with warm light, but it felt like we had the river to ourselves.

"Thank you for this," I said, leaning back against his chest. "For all of this. London, Paris, everything."

"You've said that before."

"Bears repeating." I tilted my head to look up at him. "Most people don't get to experience things like this."

"Most people don't deserve to." His hand found mine, fingers interlacing. "You work harder than anyone I know. You've earned some luxury."

"Is that your CEO's assessment of my performance?" I teased.

"That's my husband's assessment of his wife."

The way he said it, so casual and natural, made my chest tighten. Like he actually meant it. Like this wasn't just an elaborate performance for his grandfather's benefit.

The captain appeared from the wheelhouse, his weathered face creasing into a smile. "We are approaching Pont Alexandre III, Monsieur Carter. The most beautiful bridge in Paris, no?"

"Show her," Alexander said, guiding me to the rail.

As we passed under the ornate bridge, I gasped. Golden statues lined both sides, their wings spread as if ready to take flight. The streetlamps created halos of light in the mist rising from the river.

"It's incredible," I breathed.

"Built for the 1900 World's Fair," Alexander explained, his arms wrapped around me from behind. "Named after a Russian tsar. The French love their elaborate architecture."

"You really did research this."

"Maybe I'm trying to impress you."

I turned in his arms, facing him. "Working so far?"

His hands settled on my hips, pulling me closer. "That remains to be seen."

The yacht's movement created a gentle rocking motion that pressed our bodies together with each swell. Alexander's eyes were dark in the dim lighting, fixed on my face with an intensity that made my breath catch.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Just memorizing this moment." His thumb traced my cheekbone. "You, Paris, this ridiculous midnight cruise. Want to remember it."

"Getting sentimental on me, Carter?"

"Maybe." His lips curved into a small smile. "Don't tell anyone. Would ruin my reputation."

"Your secret's safe with me."

We stayed on deck until the yacht returned to the pier, neither of us wanting the evening to end. The city seemed quieter now, the late hour thinning the crowds of tourists and locals alike.

Geoffrey was waiting with the car, looking as fresh and alert as if it were midday rather than nearly two in the morning.

"Did you enjoy your cruise, Madame Carter?" he asked, opening the door.

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