Chapter 6

The way Sophie looked at him was never how a little sister looks at an older brother. It was the gaze of a woman looking at the man she loved. And Alexander? In his eyes there was indulgence, admiration, pride, everything except love for me. He had saved all of that for his Moonlight. Moonlight would never belong to a Shadow.

By the weekend, we were at the restaurant Sophie had booked, an upscale bistro with elegant decor and dim lighting. She sat by the window in a red dress like a rose in full bloom, then sprang up to greet me when Alexander wheeled me in.

I told her she looked beautiful. She lowered her head shyly and claimed she'd just thrown something on, though that limited-edition Dior dress clearly cost a small fortune.

Alexander wheeled me to the table, settled my chair into place, and then sat down very naturally beside Sophie. Not across from her, beside her. Which meant the two of them were on one side, and I was alone opposite them.

"Claire, I ordered foie gras and steak for you, with truffle sauce. I thought you'd like it." Sophie smiled eagerly. "The chef here is a friend I met overseas. He's amazing."

"Thanks." The servers started bringing out the dishes.

Sophie lifted her wineglass toward me. "Claire, this toast is to you. You've been taking care of Alex all these years here at home. Thank you. Now that I'm back, I can help carry some of that."

Help carry some of that? Help carry what, exactly, the job of taking care of my fiance? I smiled and raised my water glass. "I don't drink, so water will have to do. Welcome back."

She blinked, like she hadn't expected me to stay this calm. Then she took a sip of wine and turned to Alexander. "Alex, why didn't you talk Claire into having some red wine? I remember she used to hold her liquor pretty well."

Alexander frowned slightly. "She just had surgery. She can't drink."

"Oh, right. I forgot." Sophie stuck out her tongue. "Don't be mad at me, Claire. I've always had a terrible memory."

"It's fine."

Throughout the meal, Sophie did most of the talking, about her years overseas, her performances, the famous people she'd met, and the awards she'd won. Alexander listened with full attention, his eyes shining with admiration, pride, and something that looked very much like love, while I quietly cut my steak.

"Claire," Sophie suddenly turned to me, "with your leg injured like that, what are you planning to do from now on?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Then why don't you come be my assistant?" She blinked at me, all innocence. "I happen to need help. You understand dance, and we're family, so you'd be a much better fit than anyone else."

Alexander frowned. "Sophie..."

"What?" She tilted her head. "I'm thinking about Claire. She can't dance anymore, so she should find something to do. Being my assistant wouldn't be tiring, and she'd still get to be around the stage every day. That sounds great, doesn't it?"

I looked into her eyes. They were clear and harmless on the surface, yet I could see the challenge hiding underneath. "Sophie," I said, setting down my knife and fork, "I appreciate the thought. But for now, I don't need anyone else planning my life for me."

She froze for a second, then forced a smile and tried to smooth things over, saying I had misunderstood her. I cut her off and told her I knew she meant well. The smile on her face stiffened for a beat.