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    Olivia

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    The night air was cool against my skin as we made our way back to the pool. The water was illuminated from below, casting an ethereal blue glow across the terrace. Without a word, Alexander pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of his shorts, diving naked into the water.

    He surfaced, pushing wet hair from his eyes. “Coming in?”

    I hesitated only briefly before slipping my sundress over my head and unhooking my bikini top. Alexander’s eyes never left me as I slid the bottoms down my legs and stepped to the edge of the pool.

    I slipped into the water, gasping slightly at the contrast with the cool night air. Alexander’s arms immediately encircled me, his body warm against mine beneath the surface.

    “Cold?” he asked, pulling me closer.

    “Not anymore,” I replied, wrapping my legs around his waist as he backed us toward the edge of the pool.

    His lips found mine in a hungry kiss, hands roaming freely over my wet skin. I gasped as his fingers slid between my thighs, teasing and exploring.

    “Alexander,” I breathed against his mouth. “Let’s go inside.”

    “Why?” he asked, nipping gently at my bottom lip. “No one can see us here.”

    “But-”

    “Trust me,” he whispered, his fingers continuing their skilled maniption. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

    And I did trust him, I realized with sudden rity. I trusted Alexander Carterpletely at this moment.

    So I let go, surrendering to the sensation of his hands and mouth as the stars twinkled overhead and the waves crashed against the shore below.

    Later, wrapped in plush robes in the master suite, we sat on the terrace with sses of champagne. Alexander looked rxed, his hair still damp from our swim, his expression softer than I was used to seeing at the office.

    “So, I ventured, curling my legs beneath me on the outdoor sofa. “Was this getaway nned, or spontaneous?”

    “Bit of both,” he admitted. “I’ve had my eye on this property for a while, but the timing seemed right after your presentation.”

    “Which went perfectly, by the way,” I couldn’t help adding.

    “Never doubted it.” Alexander raised his ss in a toast. “To my brilliant wife, who charmed the notoriously difficult Andrew Thompson.”

    I clinked my bss /bagainst his. “And to my husband, who knows exactly how to celebrate a win.”

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    We drank inpanionable silence for a moment, listening to the waves below.

    “Alexander?” I said finally.

    “Hmm?b” /b

    “Thank you for this weekend. It’s exactly what I needed.”

    He smiled, reaching over to take my hand. “You’re wee, Liv. It’s what I needed too.”

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    The unexpected tenderness in his voice made something flutter in my chest. I squeezed his hand, wondering if he felt it too, this strange, growing connection between us that had nothing to do with contracts or business. arrangements.

    As if reading my thoughts, Alexander pulled me closer on the sofa, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “We make a good team, you and I.”

    “We do,” I agreed, resting my head against his chest. “Better than I expected.”

    “Is that anotherpliment?” he teased, fingers ying with the ends of my hair. “I should mark this week on

    the calendar.”

    Iughed, pinching his side yfully. “Don’t push your luck, Mr. Carter.”

    “Wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Carter.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

    We stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms under the stars, the sound of the ocean providing a soothing backdrop to ourfortable silence. And for the first time since signing that contract, I didn’t feel like I was ying a role or living a lie.

    This felt real, whatever “this” was bing between us.

    The rest of the weekend passed in a blissful blur of swimming, sunbathing, amazing meals, and passionate nights. By Sunday afternoon, I felt like a different person, rxed, rejuvenated, and oddly content with my unconventional marriage.

    As we packed the car to head back to the city, I took onest look at the stunning view. “Can wee back sometime?”

    “Anytime you want. I can make a few calls, reserve it for another weekend.”

    “Just like that?” I snapped my fingers, mimicking his casual confidence,

    “Just like that,” he confirmed, pulling me into his arms for a quick kiss. “The perks of being Mrs. Carter,”

    “I’m starting to see the appeal.”

    The drive back to Los Angeles was peaceful, the coastline stunning in thete afternoon sun. I found myself dreading our return to reality, to the office politics, family obligations, and theplicated web of half–truths we were living.

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    “What are you thinking about?” Alexander asked, ncing over at me. “You went quiet.”

    “Just enjoying the view,” I lied, not wanting to break the spell of our perfect weekend. “And dreading my Monday morning meetings.”

    “Cancel them,” he suggested. “Take a personal day.”

    “Alexander Carter, encouraging someone to skip work?” I ced a hand over my heart in mock shock.

    Heughed. “I contain multitudes.”

    “Clearly.”

    As we approached the city, Alexander’s phone began buzzing repeatedly. He ignored it for as long as he could before finally asking me to check who was calling.

    “It’s Jessica,” I said, reading his secretary’s name on the screen. “Fourth call in ten minutes. Might be important.”

    Alexander sighed. “Put it on speaker.”

    “Mr. Carter,” Jessica’s voice filled the car immediately. “Finally. I’ve been trying to reach you all weekend.”

    “I was deliberately unreachable, Jessica,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the road. “What’s the emergency?”

    “Sorry to interrupt your weekend, Mr. Carter, but I thought you should know immediately.” Jessica’s voice sounded tense even through the speaker. “Penelope Langford has given a counteroffer to Andrew Thompson. She’s trying to undercut our marketing proposal with promises of a full rebrand and twice the advertising budget.”

    My stomach dropped at the name. Penelope Langford, Alexander’s ex–fiancée.

    Alexander’s jaw tightened visibly. “When did this happen?”

    “Friday afternoon, apparently. I got this information from Andrew’s assistant. They’re considering both offers

    now.”

    I sat up straighter, my mind racing. Why would Penelope make a y for this ount now? The Thompson Hotels project was massive, but it wasn’t the kind of high–profile acquisition that typically made headlines. Unless…

    “Is herpany even equipped to handle a project this size?” Alexander asked, his voice controlled but with an edge I recognized.

    “That’s the thing,” Jessica replied. “She’s partnered with Horizon Media for this pitch. They’ve pulled together quite a team.”

    Alexander’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “Set up a meeting with Andrew Thompson for tomorrow morning. First thing”

    “You want me to call him on a Sunday?”

    “Yes. This is time–sensitive. Tell him I’ll meet him for breakfast if necessary.”

    “I’ll arrange it and get back to you as soon as possible.”

    “Thank you, Jessica.” Alexander ended the call and exhaled heavily.

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