Most of all Louisa wanted revenge. Not only on the man who broke her heart, but on all men. And being a clever, gorgeous, sexy Scorpio, she had all the ammunition. She led men on, hooked them, then planned her payback.

To forgive and forget is not part of the Scorpio code. All is fair in love and war, and this is war, she told herself, as she zipped the black, body-caressing dress that drove Liam crazy. And promised their next date would be unforgettable.

Liam was her latest victim. A good-looking, intelligent, intriguing Pisces, who would have been just her type, if she still allowed herself to have a type. She arranged to meet him, for maximum embarrassment, at a classy restaurant owned by one of his best friends. What a laugh, to picture him still there, as 8.00 came and went, then 8.30, casting fretful glances at the door.

As 8.30 came, she did not get the usual grim satisfaction. Suddenly she was seized with a strange feeling she could not identify. She rang the restaurant: “I’m supposed to meet Mr Jackson. He’s sitting on his own.”
“No madame, Mr Jackson is with a lady friend, shall I take the telephone to the table?”
“No thank you,” she said and hung up. All evening she paced the flat. What had happened, who was he with? She couldn’t ever, talk to her sympathetic sister, Claire, who was teaching at night school.

Clare came in with the crumpled, besotted look of someone who has been, to mutual satisfaction, kissed.
“What happened to you?,” Louisa demanded. “I thought about that poor man sitting on his own, and I went to warn him, but he said, ‘Why don’t you join me.’ And …” Clare replied.

Louisa stopped listening, turned away, catching a glimpse of her own face, haggard with emotion, in the mirror. Now she knew why she had called the restaurant. This was not war, after all, this was love.