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herself in a huge house in Bel Air, with many servants to do her bidding and several luxury cars parked in the garage. Of course, there would be an entourage of famous people, all of whom would want to be her best friend, because she was Andy Dale’s wife.

These fantasies flitted through her head as she murmured an automatic, ‘Oooh, Andy, you are such a sensational lover.’

Even as she said it, she realized that he wasn’t. Andy Dale was not particularly well endowed, whereas Vincent Castle was.

However, Andy Dale was a movie star, and that compensated for a few missing inches.

‘You’re not so bad yourself, cookie,’ he said, pounding into her with as much finesse as a pile-driver.

‘I’d really love…’ Jenna gasped ‘…to have my photo taken with you.’

‘Yeah. Why not?’ A long drawn-out groan. ‘Spread ’em, baby. I’m coming!’

Vincent arranged for a private plane to get Michael to L.A. as fast as possible. Dani suggested that she go with him, but he told her, under no circumstances.

‘Where can I reach you?’ she wanted to know.

He gave her the number of his cellphone.

‘Vincent,’ he said, ‘you’re responsible for keeping your mom safe, finding Sofia and getting her back here.’

‘I’ve already got people on it,’ Vincent said. ‘Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?’

‘If I need you, that’s when you’ll hear from me.’

Dani put her arms round Michael’s neck and kissed him on the lips. ‘Be careful,’ she murmured.

‘You know I will,’ he said. ‘Because when I get back, there’s things we should discuss.’

‘What things?’

He gave her his magical grin–the one that made him look thirty again. ‘Good things,’ he said.

And she loved him more than she ever had.

It was eight a.m. Wednesday morning by the time Sofia arrived back at her beach-front lodging house in Marbella. Her landlady Mrs Flynn, a flamboyant English woman who drank too much, greeted her in the kitchen clad in a bright orange floor-length caftan.

‘Out all night, dear?’ Mrs Flynn said with a saucy wink. ‘Have a good time, did you?’

‘I had a lousy time.’

‘Was he cute?’

‘No,’ Sofia said.

‘You do know you’re a week late on your rent,’ Mrs Flynn reminded her. ‘I’ll need something today.’

‘Do you mind if I use your phone?’ Sofia asked. She was suddenly experiencing a strong desire to speak to her mother. Maybe Gianni was right. Maybe it was time she went home.

‘Go ahead, I’ll add the charge to your rent,’ Mrs Flynn said obligingly.

I bet you will, Sofia thought. You’re a mean old cow.

She picked up the phone and called Vegas, even though it was probably midnight there. Dani answered immediately.

‘Hi, Mom,’ Sofia said, as if they’d spoken yesterday. ‘Hope I didn’t wake you.’

‘Thank God!’ Dani exclaimed. ‘We’ve been trying to track you down.’

‘Who’s we?’ Sofia asked, fiddling with the phone cord.

‘Your father and Vincent.’

‘Why?’

‘There’s an ongoing emergency concerning your father. You must come home immediately.’

‘Can’t do that, I’m broke.’

‘You have no money at all?’

‘Nada.’

‘Go to the local American Express office. I’ll arrange for a plane ticket to be waiting for you.’

‘You can do that?’

‘Of course I can.’

‘Is Daddy okay?’

‘It’s not something I can discuss on the phone.’

‘Sounds ominous,’ Sofia said, adding vaguely, ‘actually, I was thinking I might fly to Rome.’

‘Listen to me,’ Dani said sternly. ‘I know you don’t like being told what to do, but this is important. Come home immediately. You could be in danger.’

‘Wow!’ Sofia said, intrigued. ‘You’re making this sound like a James Bond movie.’

‘Pick up the ticket, Sofia, I’ll arrange it now.’

‘Okay, Mom, I’m on my way.’

‘Hit the next exit,’ the gunman instructed.

Madison had no idea where they were. She knew that they’d been driving for almost half an hour, and the helicopter had not been in evidence for a good twenty minutes. That didn’t mean it wasn’t out there somewhere, trailing them without lights.

‘Where are we heading when we get off the freeway?’ Cole asked.

‘Keep drivin’.’

‘You okay, Nat?’ Madison said, stretching her head to see in the back.

‘I’m doing fine,’ Natalie replied. ‘You?’

‘Oh, we’re having a wonderful time,’ Madison said.

‘Did I say you could have a fuckin’ conversation?’ the gunman said, switching on the radio and pressing the buttons until he tuned into a rap station. He turned the volume up high and began drumming his fingers on the dashboard. ‘Move this mothafucker!’ he yelled, as Cole began to slow down. ‘Gettin’ off the freeway don’t mean you gotta drive like an old lady. Fuck it!’ he crowed. ‘I’m the king–the fuckin’ king!’

And he laughed. A crazy, stoned laugh.

Chapter Forty-six

Michael and Madison: 1987

‘Get packed, we’re going to Miami for the weekend.’

‘Are you serious?’ Madison said, her emerald green eyes sparkling with excitement at the thought.

‘Yup,’ Michael responded, grinning at his long-legged sixteen-year-old daughter, whom he rarely saw any more. ‘We’re doin’ it.’

‘Wow! Is Stella coming?’

‘Stella’s not feeling great,’ Michael explained. ‘She’ll stay in New York.’

‘Wow!’ Madison repeated. ‘You mean it’s just you and me?’

‘You got any objections?’

‘No way!’

Madison was especially excited because she was away at boarding-school for most of the year, and long vacations were usually spent at summer camp. Michael was always travelling so much and Stella’s health was somewhat delicate; she suffered from bad migraines, especially when her husband was out of town.

Madison had learned to survive on her own. Early on she’d figured out that that was the way it was. Stella had Michael. Michael had Stella. She was just round occasionally. The kid. The daughter.

Not that they didn’t love her, she was sure that they did, especially Michael, who was the best father a girl could have. She adored him, so the thought of spending the weekend in Miami with him was thrilling.

Last week she’d celebrated her sixteenth birthday. No big deal. Stella had booked a table at Tavern on the Green and sent her there with a few of her girlfriends. After an early dinner they’d gone to the theatre and seen Starlight Express. It was all very uneventful.

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