Hearing the scorn, she looked up at him as he carried her, his head lifted, jaw thrust angrily. ‘Nathan . . .’ she faltered. ‘I wanted to tell you.’

‘Tell me what?’ he asked stubbornly, pretending he didn’t know what they were really talking about.

They were at the top of the stairs now but he made no attempt to put her down, striding down the corridor like she was a naughty child being sent to bed.

‘. . . I wanted to tell you about Stephen.’

‘You said he was no one.’

‘I . . . panicked.’

He tossed her up slightly, readjusting his grip. ‘If you’re engaged, why aren’t you wearing a ring?’

What? Oh. ‘. . . It’s being engraved.’

He glanced down at her, gave a careless shrug. ‘Well, it’s not my business anyway, I already told you that,’ he said dismissively.

‘That’s right,’ she said desperately. ‘Because you’re already married, something you conveniently left out of the conversation too! You can’t put all of this on me.’

They were at her bedroom now, the door ajar, and he kicked it open so that it swung against the opposite wall. Without another word, he threw her onto the bed and stared down at her. ‘Poor bugger. I wonder if he knows what he’s let himself in for – marrying you in a few days when last week you were in bed with someone else.’

She gasped, furious at his double standards. ‘You know it wasn’t like that!’

‘Actually, that’s exactly what it was like,’ he contradicted her.

‘You’re not . . .’

‘What?’ he prompted, throwing his arms out curiously.

‘You’re not just someone.’

He stared back at her, in the same room but further away from her than he’d ever been. ‘No, that’s right, I’m not. I’m the lucky bastard that got away.’ He shook his head. ‘You know, I pity him. I really do. You’re so convincing, whichever part you’re playing.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Take a look at yourself, reinvented – working like you need to, helping people cope with being rich so that they don’t make the mistakes you made. Making sure they don’t end up as the party queen who goes off one weekend to a family friend’s wedding and comes back as the fucking bride.’

She rose up onto her knees, trying to get to eye level with him, to get him to see . . . ‘Nate, please—!’

‘But you haven’t changed at all, not inside; you’re exactly the same now as you were then – using people to make you feel better. I was your wild card – the poor boy who didn’t give a damn about your rich friends and the right parties, and you liked that for a while. But I just couldn’t quite cut it, could I? I couldn’t save you enough. And so what’s he now? Another safety net?’ He held his hand up as she went to speak. ‘No, don’t even bother telling me. I’m not interested. Being with me, being with him, it makes no difference. You’re still so beautiful Lotts, so broken, so fucking tragic, never quite getting over Daddy’s death.’