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    Olivia

    “Your grandmother is surprisingly nice,” I said, perched on the edge of his couch.

    “Margaret’s always had good instincts about people.” Alexander loosened his tie, the simple action drawing my attention to his strong hands. “She liked you.”

    “Victoria definitely didn’t.”

    “Victoria doesn’t like anyone who threatens her ns. He sat beside me, close enough that our knees almost touched. “Don’t take it personally.”

    I took another sip of whiskey, letting the alcohol calm my nerves. “So what’s next?”

    Alexander’s eyebrow arched. “Sleep, unless you had something else in mind?”

    Heat rushed to my face. “That’s not what I meant. I meant what’s next before the marriage? We’ve met your family, and then what?”

    “We need to meet your family,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his ss. “I was thinking we could have the wedding in a few weeks. It would be a small ceremony, just close family and friends”

    “Okay,” I replied, the reality of our situation hitting me anew. In a few weeks, I would be Mrs. Carter, at least on paper.

    Alexander set his empty ss on the coffee table and turned to face me fully. “You seem tense.”

    “Meeting your family was intense.” I finished my drink and ced it next to his. “Your grandfather is something else.”

    “He liked you,” Alexander said, surprising me. He rarelypliments anyone.”

    “He called me a ‘fine young woman. That’s apliment

    “From Harold Carter? Absolutely.” His lips curved into a genuine smile. “He’s not exactly effusive with praise.”

    I leaned back against the couch cushions, suddenly exhausted. The emotional toll of the evening, pretending to be in love with Alexander, fending off Victoria’s barbs, and charming his grandparents, had drained mepletely.

    “You did well tonight,” Alexander said softly. “Better than I expected‘

    “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered.

    “I mean it.” His hand found mine, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. “You handled Victoria perfectly. Most people either

    cower or overreact.”

    “I’ve dealt with mean girls before.” I tried to ignore how good his touch felt. “Your cousin is just a more expensive version.”

    “That’s exactly what she is.”

    His fingers continued their maddening circles on my palm, each sweep sending tingles up my arm. I should pull away. This wasn’t part of our agreement, these casual touches, this intimacy. But I couldn’t bring myself to break the contact.

    “We should sleep,” he said finally, his voice deeper than before. “It’ste.”

    I nodded, suddenly nervous about sharing his bed again.

    “I should change first,” I said, standing up quickly.

    Alexander nodded. “The closet is all yours.”

    I padded down the hallway to the massive closet room, flipping on the light. The space still overwhelmed me with its boutique–like organization of clothes, shoes, and essories.

    I opened a drawer containing silk pajama sets in various colors and styles. My fingers traced over the delicate fabric, finally selecting a simple navy blue set with shorts and a button–up top.

    After retrieving the pajamas, I hesitated at the lingerie drawer. The emerald set I’d worn earlier was beautiful but definitely not made for sleeping. I decided to skip underwear entirely, which was one less thing to worry about in the morning.

    In the bathroom, I quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth. The face wash smelled expensive and probably contained ingredients I couldn’t pronounce.

    I slipped out of the dress and carefully hung it up, then removed the lingerie, folding it neatly on the counter. Naked, I caught my reflection in the mirror and paused. My nipples had hardened in the cool air, my breasts fuller than I remembered. Was Alexander actually attracted to me, or was this all part of the business arrangement?

    “Stop overthinking,” I muttered, pulling on the pajama shorts and buttoning up the top. The silk felt amazing against my skin, cool and smooth.

    When I returned to the bedroom, Alexander was already in bed, shirtless with the covers pulled to his waist. The sight of his bare chest, all defined muscle and smooth skin, made my mouth go dry.

    “You look nice,” he said, his eyes trailing over me.

    “Thanks.” I hovered awkwardly at the edge of the bed.

    I pulled back the covers and slid in. The sheets felt like butter against my skin, likely some extravagant thread count.

    “These sheets are amazing.” I said, trying to break the tension.

    “Egyptian cotton, 1500 thread count,” he replied, confirming my suspicion.

    I settled on my back, staring at the ceiling and painfully aware of his presence beside me. The bed was huge, a good three feet of space between us, but I could still feel the heat radiating from his body.

    “I should warn you,” I said, turning my head to look at him, I’m not cuddling you tonight.”

    Alexander’s lips curved into a smile. “I didn’t mind.”

    “Well, I did.” I pulled the covers up to my chin. “So stay on your side.”

    “Yes, ma’am.” His voice held a hint of amusement that made me want to throw a pillow at him.

    Wey in silence for a few minutes. The only sounds we heard were our breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

    “Goodnight, Olivia,” he finally said, reaching over to turn off themp on his nightstand.

    The room plunged into darkness, broken only by the city lights filtering through the windows.

    “Goodnight, Alexander,” I replied, turning onto my side, facing away from him.

    I closed my eyes, trying to ignore his presence and the memory of how it felt to wake up pressed against him. Sleep came

    L ILIICI p

    surprisingly quickly, my body surrendering to exhaustion despite my racing thoughts.