Page 103 of Failure to Match

“The marriage contract you’ll be signing. I assume you’ll want to negotiate a decrease in your compensation, given your visceral distaste for financial security and comfort.”

My heart stuttered.

“I’m not going to marry you. Last night didn’t change that.” Last night shouldn’t have even happened. Tonight certainly wasn’t going to.

“Save it for the negotiations.”

No.

Not a chance. Entering into a contractual marriage with Jackson Sinclair would be a catastrophically horrible idea that would end in nothing short of disaster for me. It wasn’t going to happen.

Breaking my gaze away, I snatched a pillow from behind me and held it up to my chest. “Can you close your eyes for a sec?”

A pause. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” I needed to get dressed and run back to my suite, and I knew for a fact that I didn’t look good while folded over and shoving on a skirt.

He smiled but complied, shutting his eyes so I could scramble out of his bed.

“Keep them closed ‘til I say.”

The meeting was being held at Minerva’s home, which was around a fifteen-minute drive. I had exactly eleven minutes to run back to my suite, feed Toebeans, brush my teeth, tame my sex-tangled hair into a semipresentable bun, and get dressed. It was tight but doable, so long as I didn’t get distracted.

“The marriage only has to last a year, but I’m thinking the contract should have a flexible-term clause, just in case Minerva decides to pull something last minute.”

Wait, where were my clothes? I spun around, trying to locate where Jackson had put—ah, the ottoman.

“We also have to argue about your compensation. I’m thinking fifty million as the base pay, plus another fifty for each produced offspring, if any. It’ll be up to you.”

I reached for the clasp of my bra again. It had snapped out of my clammy grip when Jackson said the word “offspring.”

Was that what he expected? That I’d be able to marry him, have his child, and then just… walk away from it all after one year?

“You’ll have all the negotiation power here, though,” he went on. “I’d suggest using it to your advantage.”

I shoved into my skirt, ignoring him. We could have this argument when I wasn’t rushing out the door.

“I’m taking your silence as a positive sign.”

“You shouldn’t.”

He chuckled like I was joking. “Can I open my eyes now?”

“Go for it.” I was halfway buttoned up anyway. My focus remained fixed on my working fingers as Jackson rose to his feet. “Can you do me a quick favor? I don’t know where my phone is, can you call me a cab?”

He stepped right into my bubble. “Why do you need a cab?”

“Because you refused to give me garage access, so I left my car back at my place.”

“No, I mean, why wouldn’t we just go together?”

“Where?”

“My aunt’s. I don’t see the point in taking two separate cars.”

What was he talking about? “Why would you go with me?”

“Because she emailed yesterday morning and demanded that I accompany you.”

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