Once the flight took off from Paris/Charles de Gaulle, it was uneventful. There were four seats in first class, and only two were occupied, one by Pierre de Vaumont, the other by Theo Morgan. Each had chosen window seats, so they were far apart, and the two seats together between them were vacant. Theo paid no attention to Pierre and sat in her seat lost in thought. She hadn’t bothered to draw the curtains and didn’t really care if she had privacy. She had taken off her hat, but kept her dark glasses on for a long time. She didn’t look forbidding or unpleasant, but there was something about her demeanor that made it clear that she wasn’t open to conversation and didn’t want to be approached. The cabin crew offered her magazines, champagne, damp cloths to wash her hands, pajamas, a toiletry kit, and slippers, and she refused it all.

Pierre glanced over at her a few times and saw that she hadn’t noticed him. He had recognized her immediately when he saw her board the plane with her bodyguard. Pierre had met Matthieu Pasquier several times at major fashion events, but he had only spoken to Theo briefly once, and she seemed not to remember him when she glanced at him when she boarded the plane, and then looked away.

The bodyguard, who was a fixture in her life now, put her tote in the overhead rack, had helped settle her in her seat with her jacket and a blanket, and asked if she needed anything, before he took his own seat a few rows back.

Pierre noticed that she had a dazed expression as she sat quietly in her seat before takeoff, as though her mind was full of unhappy memories. She had a tragic look to her that was painful to see. After takeoff, she took a book out of her handbag, and was absorbed in what she was reading. Everything about her seemed to say “I’m wounded, stay away.” She was a beautiful woman, with thick dark hair to her shoulders. She would have been sexy if she hadn’t looked so sad. She had huge sapphire-blue eyes, very pale white skin, and a creamy flawless complexion. It struck him that she had graceful hands. He noticed that she was wearing her plain gold wedding band, although she’d been widowed for a year.

They crossed paths finally outside the restroom, after the meal, and Pierre seized the opportunity to speak to her. He was determined to connect with her on the flight, and not miss the chance, which was how he operated. He was an opportunist by profession.