And with the image came the pain, loss, and sense of self-loathing. And he was there, as he had been that day when he first knew he loved her with all his heart.

Kalay sat across from him, a sparkle in her animated sienna-brown eyes. The wind teased the young woman’s long dark hair, curling it over a tanned shoulder to spill down over her left breast. Behind her, he could see the Caribbean where sunlight glittered on the deep aqua tones as patterns of waves faded to the far horizon. He knew that vista. They were on the veranda at the St. Lucia mansion.

“Kalay, want some of this?” he asked, raising his fork with its prize of smoked crab. She leaned forward, snatched the white meat with a quick bite. Chewed. And uttered a moan of pleasure as she savored. He watched her firm throat work, wishing he could run his lips over that marvelous skin.

“Damn it!” The popping of hands as they clapped to together brought him back.

“You here? Hello! Food’s getting cold.” Talina snapped, shattering the image. “That’s almost five minutes, Dek. Figured the next thing I’d try was a punch to your jaw.”

He clenched his hands to stop the trembling in his arms. “Why’s he so obsessed with her?”

“Who?”

“Demon. He keeps triggering memories of Kalay. What’s he want with her?”

“Who’s Kalay?”

Dek rubbed his sore eyes, wondered at the way his sense of smell had his mouth watering at the odor of squash, garlic, and poblano. At least it wasn’t pus-sucking peppermint.

Dek picked up his fork, speared some of the thick, yellow meat, lifted it, froze as he almost offered it to Talina as he just had to Kalay.

“Stop fucking with my mind!” he shouted. Fought to control the trembling in his hand, got the fork to his mouth and let the flavor of squash roll over his tongue.

Eat. Just make myself eat, he thought. That’s it. One forkful after another. Chew. Enjoy. Swallow.

From the look Talina was giving him, she wasn’t going to let the question drop. “Kalay? Part of my training to be a young man. All of us. We’re groomed, educated, prepared in all ways. In politics, history, economics, technology, social engineering, political science, resource allotment, the arts, etiquette, and pretty much every skill we should be masters of. I had just turned fifteen. Kalay was nineteen and recently confirmed in the Eros guild. The family chose her to be my introduction to the erotic arts and refined social behavior. A young Taglioni must be totally competent, familiar, and comfortable with all the intricacies of sex.”

Dek smiled wistfully. “It’s common for a boy to fall in love with his first courtesan. I just fell harder than most. Problem was, so did she.”

“How’d it end?”