The CEO's Contractual Wife - Chapter 58: Chapter 58

Olivia
I watched him walk back to the elevator before letting myself into my apartment. As I closed the door behind me, I caught myself smiling like an idiot. Tonight had been unexpected in many ways, not least in how much I'd enjoyed Alexander's company.
This was dangerous territory. Our arrangement was supposed to be practical and businesslike. But the way he'd looked at me on that private deck, the way he'd held me while we danced... it felt like something more.
I reminded myself sternly that Alexander Carter was a businessman first and foremost. This marriage was a transaction for him, a means to secure his inheritance. Whatever charm or kindness he showed was simply part of making our arrangement believable.
Still, as I carefully hung up the blue dress and prepared for bed, I couldn't help wondering what tomorrow's surprise would be and why I was so looking forward to finding out.
The next evening, I packed an overnight bag as instructed, opting for jeans and a soft cashmere sweater, as Alexander had suggested. At precisely seven, my doorbell rang.
Alexander stood there in dark jeans and a gray henley that hugged his broad shoulders, looking so different from the tuxedo-clad CEO of the previous night that I almost did a double-take.
"Ready?" he asked, taking my bag.
"As I'll ever be," I replied, locking my door. "Will you tell me where we're going now?"
"You'll see soon enough."
We took the elevator down to the parking garage, where Alexander led me to a sleek black Range Rover instead of his usual car.
"Different car tonight?" I asked as he held the passenger door for me.
"This one's better for where we're headed," he explained cryptically.
We drove out of the city, heading north along the coast. The sun was beginning to set, painting the ocean in shades of gold and pink. Alexander drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between us.
"How's your father doing?" he asked after a while.
"Better every day," I said, surprised by the question. "The doctor says his recovery is ahead of schedule."
"Good. And your mother? Is she coping?"
"She's exhausted but won't admit it. My brothers and I are taking turns staying with them to help out."
Alexander nodded thoughtfully. "If they need any additional help, a nurse perhaps..."
"We're managing," I interrupted gently. "But thank you."
We drove in comfortable silence after that, the highway eventually giving way to a winding coastal road. After about an hour, Alexander turned onto a private drive that snaked up a hillside. At the top stood a modern glass and wood structure perched on the cliff's edge with a breathtaking view of the Pacific.
"What is this place?" I asked as we parked.
"My beach house," Alexander replied, cutting the engine. "Or, more accurately, my escape house. I come here when I need to think. Or not think."
"It's beautiful," I said, taking in the sleek architecture.
"Wait until you see inside."
He grabbed our bags from the trunk and led me to the front door, which unlocked automatically as we approached.
"Biometric security," he explained, noticing my surprise. "Only a few people have access."
The interior was even more impressive than the exterior, open and airy with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the ocean view. The decor was minimalist but warm, featuring comfortable furniture in neutral tones and strategic pops of color in the artwork.
"This is beautiful," I said, walking toward the windows. The moonlight danced across the waves below, creating a hypnotic pattern of silver and black. "How often do you come here?"
"Not as often as I'd like," Alexander replied, setting our bags down. "Maybe once a month. Sometimes, when I need to think through a big decision or escape the city."
I ran my fingers along the back of a plush sofa. Everything about the place felt expensive but not ostentatious, a refined taste that surprised me. "It feels peaceful."
"That's exactly why I bought it." Alexander moved into the kitchen area, which opened to the main living space. "Hungry?"
My stomach answered with a growl before I could. "Starving, actually."
"Good. I thought we could cook together." He opened the massive refrigerator, which was surprisingly well-stocked. "The housekeeper comes by every week to keep things fresh."
I wandered around the living room while Alexander pulled ingredients from the fridge. The artwork caught my attention, with abstract pieces in blues and greens that complemented the ocean view.
"These are beautiful," I called out, studying a particularly striking canvas.
"Local artist," Alexander replied. "I found her at a gallery in Malibu. She only paints the ocean at different times of the day."
I studied the painting more closely, noticing the subtle variations in blue. "It's beautiful. You have good taste."
"In art and women," he said, his eyes locking with mine.
The intensity of his gaze made my stomach flutter. I turned away, pretending to examine another painting.
"Would you like a tour before we cook?" Alexander asked, setting down the ingredients he'd been organizing.
"Sure," I replied, grateful for the distraction. "Show me your escape house."
Alexander first guided me through the main living area, pointing out architectural details I hadn't noticed. The house was a masterpiece of modern design, with clean lines and strategic lighting that highlighted the ocean views from every angle.
We moved down a hallway lined with more ocean paintings. Alexander opened the door to reveal a home office with a massive desk facing the windows.
"For when I need to work," he said simply.
The next room was a gym equipped with state-of-the-art equipment. "For when I need to burn off energy," he added with a smile that warmed my cheeks.
Further down the hall was a guest bedroom decorated in soothing, neutral tones. "For visitors, which I rarely have," Alexander said. "I prefer to keep this place private."
"Yet you brought me here," I observed.
"You're different." His voice softened slightly before he cleared his throat and continued the tour.