Complete Me(59)

“It was a video call,” he says. “I asked if she’d talked to you, but she didn’t want to bother you during the trial. I’m surprised she hasn’t called you now that it’s over, but knowing Sofia, she hasn’t seen the news.”

“Can you conference her in through the account she used?”

I see Alaine’s eyes shift up, as if he’s examining the various options on his computer monitor. “I think so. Hang on.” Alaine’s image stays on the screen, but a smaller box appears in the corner. It’s a snapshot of a girl with spiky black hair tipped with red. She has a multi-pierced ear filled with tiny silver rings. Her elven face is small and delicate and her skin is unnaturally pale. Her deep brown eyes are ringed with pitch-black kohl. The only color comes from her lips, which are wide and full and striking with bloodred lipstick. It’s hard to tell her age, but even though Damien said that Sofia is almost thirty, she looks barely twenty to me. Then again, I have no idea how old this image is.




“I think this will do it,” Alaine says, then almost immediately adds, “Well, damn the girl.”

It takes me a second to understand what has happened, but then I see that a red X has appeared as a watermark over the image. “What is that?” I ask.

“She’s closed her account,” Damien says. “You don’t have another contact number?”

“Other than her cell phone? No.” Alaine’s mouth is curved down into a frown. “I swear I don’t know what she’s thinking half the time. But she said she’d call after Shanghai and let me know where they’re going next.”

“Tell her to call me, too. For that matter, hook me into the call.”

“Will do. And, Damien, don’t worry. She will turn up. She always does. And we both know that she is a mercurial soul.”

“She’s a disturbed soul,” Damien says.

“Aren’t we all?” Alaine says, but there is a sparkle in his eyes, and it’s obvious that he doesn’t understand the fundamental truth of his words.

As soon as the screen goes blank, Damien calls Ms. Ives back in and gives her a list of instructions, including searching the file for David and then tracking his current band to Shanghai. She takes meticulous notes and promises to contact him the moment she has information. As soon as she’s left, Damien folds me into his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“Frustrated,” he says. “But I’m fine.”

I see the worry etched on his face, but when he looks at me and smiles, it all seems to fade.

“Thank you,” he says.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

My answering smile is so broad it’s almost painful. “Anytime, Mr. Stark.”

“I think I’m done here for now,” he says. “You’ve never been to London, have you? Do you want to stay the night? We could go to Harrods. Catch a show in the West End. See a few sights.”

“No,” I say. “I just want to be with you. I just want to go home.”

“And that’s another reason that we are perfect together,” Damien says. “I want exactly the same thing.”





Chapter Ten

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Stark, Ms. Fairchild. Would you care for a glass of champagne?”

“Yes, thank you,” I say, taking the glass gratefully. Damien and I are seated side by side in the rich leather recliners. There’s a polished table in front of us and equally shiny wood trim throughout the interior of the very large cabin. The seats are so comfortable I’d happily have them at home. The flight attendant is tall and slim, with a mass of curls piled on her head in a way that manages to look both cute and professional.