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.

She had to get away.

Her car was parked in the front.

She’d drive.

She’d just drive, and then she’d be all right.

She could leave the memories behind.

* * *

Alex stepped up to his sister, his blue eyes narrowed. ‘Did it work?’

Libby bit her lip and stared after Katy, guilt and anxiety clouding her eyes. ‘Judging from her reaction, I think it might have worked a little too well. Oh, hell, Alex, are you sure we’re doing the right thing? You know she hates talking about it and usually we go along with that.’