Disconcerted and not used to the feeling, Jago stiffened. ‘And what was my weakness?’

‘Your pride,’ she said simply. ‘You are, by nature, proud and possessive and my father knew that the one thing that would drive you away from me was finding me with another man. So he made it happen.’

There was an uncomfortable silence while Jago digested her words. ‘You’re saying that he somehow manufactured these photographs?’ He waved a lean brown hand across his desk. ‘That they aren’t really you?’

‘Oh, yes, they’re me.’ Katy walked back to the desk and picked up the photograph at the top of the pack. ‘Good, aren’t they? They were taken in a studio in North London when I was modelling. One of the teenage mags wanted some shots to illustrate an article they were doing on safe sex. Aiden and I were supposed to look as though we were in love. Funnily enough, I was more relaxed than I would normally have been because I was in love.’ Her eyes lifted to his and there was more than a hint of accusation in her clear blue gaze. ‘I was in love with you, Jago.’

Modelling photographs?

Jago was struggling hard to get a grip on the facts. It hadn’t even occurred to him that the photos could have been part of her modelling life.

No. They couldn’t be.

Shielding his emotions from her, he glanced at the one on the top of the pile, noticing for the first time all the hallmarks of a professional photographer.

Feeling as though he’d just taken a cold shower, he suppressed a groan. How had he managed to miss that possibility? But he knew the answer, of course. He’d been so furiously angry at what he’d seen as her betrayal that he’d reacted with raw, naked emotion. Had he employed some of the intellect in his possession he might have reached a different conclusion.

But Katy’s father had been completely correct in his reading of his character. He’d gambled on the fact that Jago’s Spanish pride would prevent him from wanting to contact her again. And the gamble had paid off. He’d walked into the sunset and left her.

He stilled, unable to grasp the fact that he could have made such a colossal misjudgement. ‘You never slept with him?’

‘No. He’s also gay.’

Her tone was flat and Jago tensed, struggling with the appalling reality of having been thoroughly manipulated. ‘I thought—’

‘I can see what you thought. Please, don’t spell it out any further. I find your suppositions totally offensive.’ She gathered up the photographs and he reached out and grabbed her wrist, preventing her from leaving.

‘Wait.’ His fingers tightened. ‘If you suspected that your father was responsible, why didn’t you come after me?’

She looked at him sadly. ‘Because I believed in you. I never knew what made you leave, but I guessed that my father was behind it and for months I held onto this childish dream that our love would prove stronger than my father had anticipated and that you’d come back and at least talk to me. But you never did.’