Natasha Carthew uses an interesting prose for which she is often praised – according to the book’s opening pages. And I sort of liked it. I certainly did at first, it’s got a sort of charm to it. But then I found it tedious, as I found the whole book tedious. I couldn’t be made to care enough about the characters, they weren’t that interesting, or – they could have been, in another story, but not in this one. And their interactions were stilted which made sense for the story but made for unenjoyable reading. And their relationship progression just made no sense. I’ve heard of enemies-to-lovers romance but a-bit-feisty-but-mostly-apathetic-interactions-but-you’ve-only-seen-each-other-for-a-month-I-guess-you’re-in-love-now romance – that’s a new genre that should never be repeated.