The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Alex) novel Chapter 208

Olivia

We spent an hour there, me examining every window while Alexander watched with amused patience. When we finally left, the afternoon sun was warm on our faces.

"Hungry?" Alexander asked.

"Starving. Where are we eating tonight?"

"There's this tiny bistro near our hotel. Nothing fancy, just really good French food."

"Sounds perfect."

Dinner was exactly what he'd promised: simple, classic French cuisine in a cozy space filled with locals rather than tourists. We shared escargot, duck confit, and a bottle of wine that Alexander insisted would change my life.

"Well?" he asked as I took my first sip.

"It's good," I admitted. "But life-changing might be overselling it."

"Give it time. The wine needs to breathe, like our marriage."

I nearly choked on my next sip. "Did you just compare wine to our marriage?"

"Both need time to develop properly. Both improve with age. Both can give you a headache if you're not careful."

"You're ridiculous."

"You keep saying that."

"Because you keep being ridiculous."

Our waiter appeared with the check, which Alexander paid without looking at the total. Outside, Paris was alive with evening energy. Street musicians played on corners, cafés overflowed with people, and couples strolled hand in hand along the narrow sidewalks.

"Walk?" Alexander suggested.

"Always."

We wandered aimlessly, ending up at a jazz club tucked down an alley. Music spilled out into the street, sultry and inviting.

"Want to go in?" Alexander asked.

"Yes."

Inside, the club was intimate and smoky despite the no-smoking laws. A woman with a voice like honey and whiskey crooned into a vintage microphone while the band backed her with lazy, sensual notes.

We found a table in the corner. Alexander ordered whiskey for both of us while I soaked in the atmosphere.

"This is perfect," I said, watching the singer sway with the music. "How did you know about this place?"

"Lucky guess. Saw the sign and took a chance."

"Well, your instincts were good."

The music shifted to something slower, more intimate. Around us, couples swayed together in the limited space between tables.

"Dance with me," Alexander said, standing and offering his hand.

"Here? There's barely room."

"Then we'll make room."

He pulled me from my seat and into his arms, guiding me to a spot near our table. Other couples pressed close around us, everyone moving together in the dim light.

Alexander's hand spread across my lower back, holding me tight against him. His other hand captured mine, bringing it to rest against his chest, where I could feel his heartbeat steady and strong.

"You're a good dancer," I murmured.

"So you've mentioned."

"Worth mentioning again."

We moved together to the music, our bodies finding a rhythm that felt natural and right. The singer's voice washed over us, singing about lost love and second chances in French I couldn't fully understand but felt in my bones.

"What's she saying?" I asked.

Alexander translated softly. "Something about finding love when you weren't looking for it. About two people who thought they were alone discovering they'd been waiting for each other all along."

"That's beautiful."

"Or devastatingly sad, depending on how you interpret it."

I tilted my head back to meet his eyes. "Which way do you interpret it?"

"Tonight?" His hand tightened on my back. "Beautiful."

The song ended, but we didn't move apart immediately. The next song started, something upbeat and jazzy, breaking the spell.

"Another drink?" Alexander asked.

"I should probably switch to water. Getting a little tipsy."

"You're adorable when you're tipsy."

"I'm adorable all the time."

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