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. Wealthy 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 he's crazy about her. But does Libby really know what she needs? Is it more important to look for a man who makes you laugh, who's kind, sensitive and most of all sexy as hell? Or one who can give you security and worships the ground you walk on?