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Dedication

This book is dedicated to my friends Joe and Amy Pascal

Acknowledgements

Acknowledgments

As ever, I must begin with my friend and agent Michael Sissons, who signed me as an unpublished hopeful twelve years ago and who has made breaking authors from scratch look effortless. I am also extremely grateful to the entire team at Headline, especially my editor Harrie Evans, who gave me a novella’s worth of notes on this book and improved the final result immeasurably. My additional thanks go to Kerr MacRae, Martin Neild, Jane Morpeth, Georgina Moore, Catherine Cobain, James Horobin, Kate Burke, Amy Johnson, Poppy Shirlaw, Emily Kennedy, Barbara Ronan, Katherine Rhodes, Paul Endpresser, and the entire sales force. Extra special thanks to the Board and to all the occupants of the Comfy Chairs.

In the U.S. I would like to thank my agent, Emma Parry, my editor Trena Keating and everybody at Plume—especially Ali Bothwell Mancini, Marie Coolman, Melissa Jacoby, and Abigail Powers. Every author wishes they had such a strong team behind them, and I appreciate how lucky I’ve been with Sparkles.

Prologue

“Ten million dollars, U.S.,” Pierre Massot said.

The other man grunted; there was a crackle on the line. He hoped it wouldn’t go dead all of a sudden. Telecommunications were shoddy over there.

“Twenty.”

“I don’t have it.” He spoke with calm assurance. “Twelve. It’s the best I can do. Plus the equipment. Take it or leave it.”

There was a pause; Massot felt his destiny hanging on the reply.

“Very well.”

He forced himself not to exhale. It was his habit not to show weakness.

“You must be here soon, though.”

“I leave tonight.” Pierre smiled. “I will see you shortly.”

He hung up. Excellent . . . excellent. For the first time, he felt a crackle of excitement. Not the shallow thrills of a rich man, the ones he sought and obtained daily, but the real thing. That passion, that sizzle in the blood.

Something Pierre had not felt for a long time. Not since the birth of Thomas. And before that. . . . Long before that. . . .