Page 47 of Failure to Match

I crossed my legs, clicked my pen, and quirked a professionally curious brow. “You seem very eager to discuss your sexual interests with me, Mr. Sinclair. Any particular reason why?”

“Is that a question from your list?”

“I’m allowed to improvise.”

His pupils briefly flared, right before his mouth tilted in a sarcastic smile. “It’s because I think you’re full of shit, Miss Paquin. I don’t believe you’re nearly as cavalier about any of this as you’re pretending to be, and the fact that you’re stalling isn’t helping your case.”

Once again, I could not believethiswas the man I’d spent eight months comforting broken hearts over. He was quite possibly the most aggravating human being on the planet. I really didn’t get the appeal.

Swallowing back the emotionally charged quip biting at the tip of my tongue, I forced another polite, unaffected smile. “When we initially provided your team with a simplified version of the questionnaire covering this topic, it was returned to us blank and marked as ‘not applicable.’ I’m surprised you’re so enthusiastic to get into it now.”

“It was marked as ‘not applicable’ because it’s not applicable,” he retorted.

“And why’s that?”

“Because I don’t plan on having a sexual relationship with my wife.”

I almost dropped my pen. My fingers went limp with the momentary shock of the statement, and I blinked, wondering if I’d heard him correctly.

“What… like, at all?” I asked slowly. That haddefinitelynot been mentioned by his team.

“Not if I can help it.” A satisfied smirk toyed with his lips. He liked that he’d surprised me. “And definitely not in any capacity that would require our fantasies and kinks to be aligned. We’ll need to produce an heir or two for the family legacy, but that’s it. And that can be done via less traditional methods.”

My mouth stuttered for a beat as my brain struggled to catch up. He took it as an opportunity to keep going. “I plan on getting my sexual needs met outside of the marriage,” he explained, just in case I hadn’t gotten the full picture yet. “With her knowledge and consent, of course. I’m sure she’ll also have her own arrangement.”

What… just…what?

“And you think she’ll be okay with that?”

“She’ll have to sign off on it before the wedding, so yes,” he answered simply. “My lawyers are drafting the paperwork as we speak.”

My mouth had slighted open, my brows knit so tight it was bound to lead to a headache. “I’m… confused. You’re going to make your future wife sign a bunch of paperwork agreeing to your extramarital affairs?”

“Also known as an open marriage. She’ll be encouraged to do the same.”

Right. That would be a nightmare scenario for me personally, but so would being married to someone who didn’t believe in love. The mere thought sent a chill down my spine.

But, you know, as long as all parties were aware of the situation, and it was all consensual. I just… none of this had been shared with us and it was obviouslyveryrelevant.

“All right,” I said, slowly recovering. “Then I guess it really isn’t applicable. Anything else I should know about this agreement your lawyers are drawing up? We’re going to need to make sure all future matches are comfortable with your requirements.” As neverending as they were.

“I’ll provide you with a copy when they’re done.”

Great. Perfect. Except for a pesky little thing called curiosity that was making the inside of my brain itch. “Can I have a couple of examples? Just so our team can prepare a little in advance.”

His mouth quirked. “You’re stalling again.”

“We’ve already established that this isn’t a relevant topic,” I said. “We can move on to a different one.”

Something to do with emotional intimacy. He’d hate it almost as much as I despised the way he huffed a knowing chuckle. It scraped against my patience, stripping away what little remained.

“Fine,” I accidentally snapped. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have the data on file. In case you end up changing your mind.”

“I guess.” Again with the mocking.

I was going to make him regret every life decision he’d made leading up to this point.

Every. Single. One.

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