Katy blinked, suddenly realising that she’d forgotten to redo her hair after Jago had strode like the conquering male out of her bedroom, having kissed her to the point of total surrender.

She lifted a hand and realised that her long blonde hair, normally fiercely restrained, was flowing loose over her shoulders.

‘I—I—’ She broke off, suddenly needing to ask him a question. ‘Freddie, do you like it like this? If we weren’t dining with the Fletcher-Gibbs, would you prefer that I left it down?’

He looked at her with the expression of a man who knew he was on dangerous ground. ‘You look lovely,’ he said tactfully, ‘but generally speaking I prefer it up. It projects the right sort of image, don’t you agree?’

And that was what Freddie cared about, of course. Image.

Katy looked at him thoughtfully. Jago didn’t prefer it up. Her hair had always driven him wild. But, then, as Libby had pointed out, Freddie wasn’t the sort of man to be driven wild by anything except stocks and shares.

And that had been one of the reasons she’d agreed to marry him.

But what was she going to do now?

Could she ever be satisfied with the blandness of Freddie after experiencing the heat and colour of a man like Jago?

CHAPTER SEVEN

JAGO strode through the A and E department the next morning, satisfied that he’d successfully salvaged what could have been a difficult situation.

All right, so he’d made a mistake about Katy, but her response to his kiss had more than convinced him that she’d forgiven him for not trusting her. After the kiss they’d shared the night before he was supremely confident that she would have ended her engagement to Freddie.

Which meant that they could resume their relationship.

And he had every intention of doing exactly that.

He loved her.

He’d always loved her.

Convinced that he had the situation well in hand, it came as an enormous shock to see her clutching a huge hand-tied bouquet of flowers as she walked along the corridor towards him.

Instinct told him that they had to be from Freddie and he tensed in stunned disbelief. What sort of guy sent flowers after he’d been dumped only a few months before the wedding?

Unless she hadn’t dumped him.

Maybe his plan wasn’t going quite as smoothly as he’d anticipated.

‘You didn’t do it?’ He glowered at her, disconcerted by the feeling that tore through him. The feeling that he only ever seemed to experience when he was around Katy. ‘I can’t believe you still intend to marry that man. How can you marry him after the way you kissed me last night?’

‘You kissed me, Jago,’ she pointed out calmly. ‘And please don’t criticise Freddie. He’s romantic and kind.’

Romantic?

She thought Freddie was romantic?

He stiffened, offended by the implication that he was somehow lacking in that direction. ‘You don’t think I’m romantic?’

‘You?’ She looked startled at the question, as if the thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to her before. ‘You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, Jago.’