The Rings that Bind. Michelle Smart

just using your masculinity to try and drive me into some kind of feminine stupor. You think I will fall for your charms and thus save you the unpleasantness of a public divorce—and save you from the hundreds of women who will come beating on your door, begging to be the new Mrs Baranski.’

      He stilled, his eyes narrowing. ‘You have me all figured out.’

      ‘You’re an easy read.’

      What else could it be? Their marriage hadn’t just been platonic, it had been positively frigid. Intellectually, they got along beautifully. They could talk business until the sun came up. But there had been no physical contact of any kind, not even when they had drunk more vodka together than was good for them. They would attend functions where couples were together in every sense of the word—holding hands, sneaking kisses. For all their cordiality, she and Nico wouldn’t even wipe a fragment of lint from each other’s clothing.

      It was what she had signed up to. But she’d had no idea when she drew up that stupid contract that it would come to hurt so much and gnaw at her insides.

      ‘If I were to tell you I find you incredibly sexy, would you think I was lying?’

      ‘We both know I am not your type.’ Even when passing her a mug of coffee he made a concerted effort not to touch her.

      ‘Maybe my tastes are becoming more discerning.’

      ‘Unluckily for you, my tastes aren’t. If you think I want to share a bed with a man who has a deli counter of blondes queuing for a space in his bed, you have another think coming. Believe me, that was a strong positive for me when we made our no-sex pact.’