They’d strolled along the ​Promenade Plantée, which had been bursting with cherry trees, wildflowers and spring aromas. They’d wanted to take in the alternative views of Paris: tucked-away rooftops and balconies. They’d smelled the flowers, but they hadn’t actually enjoyed much of the views. Karla had kept the dress on while they’d made love with the lust-fuelled urgency that doing it al fresco brings.

She was wearing the dress tonight for him. She’d got the kids up to bed early and had been cooking a special meal for him. She hadn’t known her father was coming.

Jason felt like the worst kind of hypocrite ever, assuring himself he cared more about her than her phony father ever could, that he was taking a belligerent stance in order to somehow protect her from being at the man’s beck and call. It was bullshit. He just couldn’t accept failure. He had been refusing to consider the cost of putting his ego above the real needs of his family. Christ. What the hell was wrong with him? ‘Karla…’ He stepped towards her, wanting to apologise, to try to make things right.

‘Oh, you might want this.’ Karla stopped him, moving away as he attempted to thread an arm around her waist. ‘Nice profile photograph, by the way.’ Picking up his phone from the work surface, she handed it to him.

‘Profile…?’ Jason’s confused gaze shot from his phone to her.

Karla said nothing, eyeing him meaningfully instead, before turning away to walk across to the dining table and pour herself a large glass of wine.

Jason flicked to the messages he and Mark had exchanged late last night, the attachment Mark had sent, and his heart flipped over. Shit. ‘Mark sent it,’ he said quickly. ‘He’s on Tinder.’

‘Looking to hook up,’ Karla said. ‘I gathered. So, does she have a sister?’ Taking a large gulp of her wine, she picked up the bottle and came back towards him.

Jesus. Jason scrunched his eyes closed. ‘I was joking.’ He scrambled for a plausible way to explain. ‘It was just… something to say. Look, Karla, I’m sorry. I can see how this might look. I shouldn’t have—’

‘Fancied a foursome, did you?’ Karla stopped in front of him, the look in her eyes one of soul-crushing humiliation.

‘What?’ Astonished, Jason searched her face. Surely she didn’t think…? ‘Come on, Karla.’ He reached for her hand. ‘You don’t seriously imagine I…’

‘Sounds like fun,’ Karla said, her wounded gaze never leaving his. ‘Maybe I should try it sometime. I wouldn’t want to be seen as sexually unadventurous, after all, would I?’

‘Karla…’ Realising how hurt she was, Jason’s heart dropped like a stone. ‘Please don’t. I forgot to delete it, that’s all. I promise you there is no way I—’

He stopped as there was a tap on the kitchen door.