‘Women like to talk about themselves,’ he said brusquely. ‘Men don’t.’

Natalie’s frustration level zoomed up to maximum. She couldn’t stand men who did this to her. It reminded her too much of Brandon, who’d been the sneakiest, most manipulative bastard in the world, worming every single detail of her life out of her, then telling her virtually nothing about his own life.

If and when Natalie ever married, it would be to a man who kept nothing from her, who told her everything that was in his head, and in his heart. He would trust her with his secrets, and his soul. He would never play her for a fool in any way, shape or form. Because love wasn’t cruel. It was kind, and tender, and sensitive.

Natalie stared at the man sitting across the table from her and realised he was incapable of being kind, and tender, and sensitive. His so-called truthfulness was nothing more than ill-disguised rudeness. He disliked and disrespected women for some reason. And had no intention of telling her why.

She’d made a deal with the devil agreeing to this marriage. But there was no backing out now.

Still, she didn’t have to do what she didn’t want to do.

‘I’m already well aware that men don’t like to talk,’ she told him coldly. ‘Which is a pity. It might do them some good. Women, on the other hand, don’t like being made to look foolish, so I won’t be coming engagement-ring shopping with you tonight. I know I will have to pretend devotion in front of Mr Helsinger. I won’t, however, pretend in front of some simpering salesgirl. My grandmother willed me all her jewellery. I will wear her engagement ring. And her wedding ring, when the time comes. Take it or leave it.’

Again, he just shrugged, his indifference annoying Natalie considerably. ‘Whatever. Provided they’re nice rings. Not cheap ones. A man in my position would not buy cheap rings for his wife.’

‘They are beautiful rings,’ Natalie ground out through gritted teeth.

‘In that case, good. It saves time and trouble. But I won’t back down on the clothes issue. Still, that can wait till a later date. Getting that marriage licence, however, can’t wait. You said it takes a month. Where do you go to get it?’

‘The registry office. In the city. You’ll need to take your birth certificate with you. I presume you have a copy.’

‘Nope.’

‘You’ll have to get one, then, won’t you? If you go into the department of Births, Deaths and Marriages personally, you can pick it up over the counter. That’s in the city, too.’

‘Good. We can get it all done first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you up at nine.’

Natalie bristled. ‘You might like to ask if I’m busy tomorrow morning.’

‘Are you?’