It was for the best, really, that Juliette had made him go. Monogamy simply wasn’t in Kingsley’s blood. He loved fucking men too much. And other women. And pain, he loved that too, and Juliette only wanted to receive it, not give it. Cold comfort, but it was comfort. He needed all the comfort he could get.

“Mr. King?”

Calliope’s soft voice interrupted his solitary reverie. Good. He needed to stay out of his mind as much as possible. He looked up from the book he hadn’t been reading and smiled at her.

“Yes?”

“Are you done with me for the day?” she asked, standing in the doorway to his sitting room.

Kingsley checked his watch. It was a little after seven in the evening.

“I suppose. You have somewhere to go?”

She grinned. “I have a date.”

Kingsley slammed his book shut and set it on the table next to him.

“A date? With whom?”

“No one you know.”

“Why don’t I know him?” Kingsley took his glasses off and tossed them on top of the book.

“Because I barely know him. It’s a first date.”

“You can’t go on a date with someone you barely know. What if he’s a criminal?”

Calliope pointed at him. “You’re a criminal.” She pointed at herself. “I am a criminal. We—” she pointed back and forth at both of them vigorously “—are criminals. Half of what I do for you is illegal. You caught me using a fake ID I made to get into your clubs and you hired me because it was such a good fake.”

“We’re not talking about me or you. We’re talking about him.”

“He seems nice. He’s friends with Tessa.”

“Nice? He’s not vanilla, is he?”

Calliope screwed her face up in disgust. “Ugh. Don’t even joke about that.”

“What’s his name? And birth date? And place of birth?”

“You are not allowed to make a file on him,” she said, pointing her finger at him. “You are not allowed to do a background check.”

“I’m your boss. I can do anything I want.”

“No,” she said again firmly.

“Does he know about me?” Kingsley asked. “Did you tell him I used to kill people for a living?”

“I hope you never have a daughter if this is how you act when your assistant has a date.”

“Don’t get pregnant.”

“I don’t believe in getting pregnant on a first date.”

“Good. Do you need condoms?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you. I’m leaving. Right now. This instant.”

“You come to my room when the date is over so I know you’re safe. That’s an order.”

“Anything else, sire?”

“Take a gun.”

“Oh my God.” Calliope shook her head and sighed. Kingsley considered having her tailed.

“I don’t want you getting hurt,” he said.

She sighed and smiled at him. “I know. I’ll be fine. It’s sweet that you care.”

She walked over to him and kissed him on both cheeks in the French manner as he’d trained her to do. He heard the doorbell and willfully ignored it. Calliope’s date must be picking her up here. Maybe he should go say hello to her suitor...ask him a few questions.

But no. Calliope would kill him. Eighteen years old, he reminded himself. Almost nineteen. A legal adult. And intelligent. And responsible, apart from her association with him. And hardworking. She deserved a date without her boss giving her a hard time about it. Of course, if this boy harmed her in any way Kingsley would be forced to kill him. But that went without saying. He picked up his glasses and his book again—Wide Sargasso Sea, a book Elle had recommended to him long ago. A beautiful book but a poor choice for a man trying to forget the woman he loved who lived on a Caribbean island with a man who would never understand her.

“King?” came Calliope’s voice again.

“If he stood you up, I’ll shoot him,” Kingsley said.

Calliope didn’t laugh.

“What is it?” he asked.

“There’s a woman here for you.”

“Who?”

“She didn’t tell me her name.”

“What does she look like?”

“Stunning,” Calliope said, sounding truly stunned. “I’ve never seen her equal.”

Kingsley’s eyes widened. He stood up and walked to the door. Calliope looked at him.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, either,” Calliope said with concern scrawled across her face.

Kingsley kissed her forehead. “Have fun on your date.”

He walked past her and out into the hall. Down the hall to the entryway.

And there she was—Juliette. At first he could only stare at her in wonder. Juliette, in the flesh, standing in his foyer. She wore the loveliest turquoise dress and shoes and she shimmered like a jewel.

“That was a very pretty girl who answered the door,” Juliette said.

“Cal. Calliope,” he corrected. “My assistant.”

Juliette nodded. “Calliope? Is that her real name?”

“She’s a computer hacker. She says she has to have a mythological code name. Silly girl. She has a beautiful real name, but she won’t let anyone call her that.”

“What is it?” Juliette asked.

“Céleste.”