At twenty-seven, Libby thinks there's a lot to be said for a rich husband. So when Nick comes along - lovely, funny, handsome Nick, who has no money whatsoever, lives in a grotty bedsit and thinks the perfect night out consists of the pub and his mates - she decides he's only good for a fling. No strings attached.

Investment banker Ed, on the other hand, could possibly be the answer. His house in Regent's Park makes up for his hideous moustache and she can probably overlook his irritating habits, and anyway, he's crazy about her. But does Libby really know what she needs? Is she just in love with being loved? Or is she loving the lifestyle, rather than the man?