“You start paying me more and maybe I can afford some new lines, King. Now shoo. We’ve got girl stuff to do.” She tried waving him out of her dungeon, but he didn’t budge.

“I’m not leaving until Chris tells me she wants me gone. I’ll stay the entire time if she needs me.” He gave The Mistress a pointed look, one The Mistress returned even more pointedly. If they didn’t stop staring pointedly at each other one of them was going to lose an eye.

“I’m fine. Seriously,” Chris said although she didn’t sound one-hundred-percent sure.

“I can stay out here if you want. You can have your privacy and know I’m only a room away.” He looked into her eyes as if trying to read them. Chris smiled.

“Seriously, I’m good. I can do this,” Chris reassured him.

“She’ll be fine.” The Mistress snapped her fingers in his face. “Stop acting all fatherly. She’s in good hands. I’ll get her back to you in one piece. Now this is personal shit she and I need to do. No men allowed. Skedaddle.”

“Did you just tell me to ‘skedaddle’?” Kingsley said, his French accent struggling with the word.

“I did. And I mean it. Chris?”

“She means it. We win. You lose. Shoo.”

“C’est la guerre. I’m going.” Kingsley didn’t sound like he wanted to leave but the man was smart enough to know when he was outnumbered. “I’ll be back in an hour to take Chris home. Is that long enough?”

“If it isn’t then you can wait in the hallway until she comes out. Oui?” The Mistress gave him an entirely insincere smile.

“You don’t have to escort me home. I’ll be okay.” Chris rolled her eyes again. The Mistress had a feeling this scenario played out fairly often. Kingsley did get a bit overprotective of his Sams. She had to wonder if the Original Sam knew what she’d done to the man.

“I know you’ll be fine. I’m taking you home anyway.”

“Fine. Fine.” Chris raised her hands in surrender.

“Yes, it’s all fine. Now go, Dad. Time for the slumber party. Out.”

Kingsley raised Chris’s hand and kissed the back of it before giving The Mistress one last menacing look.

“Take good care of her,” he ordered. “Non. Take the best care of her.”

“She gets my A-game. You get out.”

With one more bow, Kingsley left the room.

“God damn, that man is such a mother hen sometimes.” The Mistress opened the door to make sure he’d really gone. She wouldn’t put it past him to wait out in the hallway the entire time.

“He is, and I have no idea why. He’s so weird.”

“He’s French.” The Mistress waved her hand dismissively.

“It’s not that. He treats me like a princess. Do I look like a princess to you?” Chris motioned at herself to indicate her short spiky hair, her boyish clothes and boots.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the New Sam. You might as well be royalty to him.”