“It’s not your fault she got hurt, Kingsley. We all get hurt around here.”

“I know,” he said, slipping tiredly into French. Je sais.

“I know you know. And I also know you know I can’t cancel on my clients. That’s fine for Irina and the subs. They have normal clients. My clients run the world. They’re not going to be happy if I say ‘Sorry, busy,’ without any notice like this.”

“They’ll survive a week or two without you.”

“That’s the problem. They will survive because they’ll find a new Domme. You and I have worked way too hard to build my career. This could kill it.”

“It’s not going to help it, non. But your life is more important than your career.”

“My career is my life.” Nora stared him down hard.

“What would you have me do? I let you keep working and le prêtre will kill me and lock you in a cage.”

“Søren’s not into cage-play.”

“It won’t be for erotic purposes, I promise.”

Nora growled under her breath. She didn’t know what to do but she knew not working wasn’t an option.

“I can’t let the girls think I’m spooked,” she told Kingsley. “If I’m scared, they’ll be terrified. I have to keep working.”

“Then you’ll have a bodyguard with you. C’est ça.”

“Bodyguard? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s either a bodyguard or no work. Your decision.”

“Fucking hell... All right. Whatever. It’s only until they catch the guy, right?”

“Oui.”

“Good. I’ll call Griffin.”

“Not Griffin. You two know each other too well. Far too well.” He gave her a meaningful look.

“So?”

“He’s a personal trainer, not a bodyguard. You need someone with experience.”

“Griffin’s very experienced.”

“Experienced at fucking you. I’ll find someone and send him to your house tomorrow. Someone you haven’t slept with.”

“That narrows our options.”

“Elle.”

“Fine. Bodyguard it is. You’re the boss.”

Kingsley raised a single finger and pointed it right at her.

“No fucking him,” he said, his tone cold and authoritative. “No sex. No kink. This is not playtime. I’ll pay his salary. You leave him alone so he can concentrate on his work.”

“Like I would ever fuck some big dumb muscle-bound no-neck overpaid bouncer. Don’t worry. Not my type.”

“Bon. Now go home, lock your doors, get some sleep. He’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

She stood up and headed to the door. Before she got there, her conscience pricked at her and she turned around.

“King, are you okay?”

He gave a very French sort of shrug.

“I should never have let Natasha leave. If she’d been on my staff, if she’d been in my club...”

“She hit on you and you turned her down. She quit for her own reasons. Brad Wolfe guards those dungeons like a hawk and this happened on his watch. It could have happened on yours, too. Jesus, Natasha could have gotten mugged on the sidewalk or hit by a bus. You can’t blame yourself for every bad thing that happens to every kinky person in New York.”