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‘Of course not.’ Katy lifted a hand to her head, trying to clear the memories. ‘We were totally different.’

His strength mixed with her gentleness. Raw male power controlling her every movement…

Libby pulled a face. ‘That’s our father talking. To him Jago was a banned substance, right up there with drugs and smoking. He was the unsuitable man. Fine for fighting dirty in the money markets but not good enough for his daughter. He didn’t have the benefit of Lord Frederick’s bloodline.’

‘Maybe Dad was right. It would never have worked,’ Katy said frantically. ‘Now can we change the subject, Libby, please?’

Dark eyes holding hers, possessing her, taking her with him as their bodies exploded.

Her sister appeared not to have heard her plea. ‘Why wouldn’t it have worked? Because you were the rich heiress and he was a bit of rough? Dad’s protégé who clawed his way up through hard work and naked ambition?’ Libby gave a wicked grin. ‘I confess that I would have signed away my share of the family fortune for the chance of one roll in the hay with Jago. He might have been dangerous but he was so-o-o sexy. I’ve always wanted to ask you something.’ She lowered her voice and glanced around to check that no one could hear them. ‘What was it like with him? Was he good, Katy?’

Katy couldn’t breathe.

Good?

Oh, yes, he was good. Better than good. Jago was so skilled that he might have invented sex.

And she’d trained herself never to think about it. Never to remember those few weeks. The agony was too acute.

And now, for some unfathomable reason, her sister was making her talk about it.

She never talked about it.

‘That’s

enough, Lib.’ Her voice was hoarse and she lifted a hand to loosen her collar, only to remember that her dress had a scoop neckline.

The constriction came from within.

Her memories were suffocating her.

‘You loved him, Katy. He was the one,’ Libby said softly. ‘The one.’

Her father in one of his terrifying rages. It ends now, Katy. He’s gone. You won’t be seeing him again.

Her childlike belief that her father was wrong.

‘I kept thinking that he’d come for me,’ she murmured, talking as much to herself as to Libby. ‘I thought our love was strong enough to survive anything. How could I have been so wrong?’

‘You were crazy about him, Katy.’ Libby’s tone was gentle. ‘It was true love. How can you marry Freddie after what you had with Jago?’

‘It’s because of what I had with Jago that I’m marrying Freddie,’ Katy said hoarsely. ‘And Jago never loved me. How could he have loved me and walked away?’

She could see now that he’d been way out of her league. A sophisticated, ruthless man so practised in the art of seduction that someone as emotionally and physically innocent as her had never stood a chance. He’d been with her for the novelty value, whereas she’d fallen for him like a skydiver without a parachute and had been left emotionally devastated when he’d ended the relationship.

And she knew that she never wanted to experience that depth of emotional intensity again.

Which was why she was marrying Freddie.

Freddie was safe and predictable and she always knew how her body would behave around him, whereas being with Jago had been a journey into the unknown. A breathless, exciting, terrifying journey. Every look, every touch had caused an explosion inside her that had left scars.

Scars that had never healed.

‘Jago wouldn’t be standing around talking to your father’s friends,’ Libby murmured, not meeting her eyes. ‘He’d be sending you hot looks and dragging you into the bushes, and he wouldn’t give a damn what anyone thought.’

His voice, rough with masculine triumph. ‘You’re mine now, Katy.’

Desperation swamped her and she dropped her champagne glass and ran across the lawn and up the steps, ignoring Libby’s attempt to stop her.

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