Page 105 of Crocodile Tears

That explained that little part of the puzzle – why Elliot hadn’t waited until the big, romantic dinner he had planned.

“And your previous houder – the one before Elliot?” Josiah asked. “Did he treat you the same way?”

“Oh no.” Alexander shook his head swiftly.

“That’s something, at least.”

“He was much worse,” Alexander said quietly.

Josiah stared at him, appalled. “Who was he?” he asked.

“I’d rather not talk about him, if that’s okay, sir?”

Josiah knew he could force the issue, but he sensed it wouldn’t be a good idea. Alexander had made very few personal requests, so far, and he felt he should respect this one. He’d find out soon enough anyway, when Reed arranged for the court records to be unsealed.

“Well, I want you to know that you are safe here, and I will never hit you,” he said firmly.

Alexander shrugged. “That’s what Elliot told me on his first night as my houder, too, sir.”

“I’m not Elliot Dacre.”

“I know. You’re the indiehunter, sir.”

Josiah looked at him sharply, but Alexander gave a serene smile, as if he hadn’t intended that comment to be barbed in any way.

Josiah sank into silence. He was tired from lack of sleep, and he hurt from some of the punches he’d taken the previous night. He rolled his shoulders back, feeling the tension, and his neck popped as he moved it from side to side.

“Would you like me to take care of that for you, sir?” Alexander asked.

“Not unless you’re a trained massage therapist.”

“As a matter of fact, Ihavebeen trained to give massages. I was sent to the Belvedere Academy by my first houder and received tuition in a variety of different subjects. I can cook to a reasonable standard, take care of clothes, including laundry, ironing, and basic mending, and set and wait tables for formal dining.”

Josiah stared at him. “Rich people really send their servants to academies to learn all that shit?”

“Yes, sir. Some people want a completely blank slate when they buy a servant’s contract. They want an IS they can educate to be their butler, cook, massage therapist, and personal manservant, all rolled into one.”

Josiah made a mental note to look up this Belvedere place. Before he had a chance to reply, Alexander stood up, went behind the sofa, and started to gently press his fingers into the back of his neck.

As if by magic, the IS’s fingers went straight to the sore spots and began teasing out the knots. Groaning, he let his head hang forward as those strong hands brought release to his aching shoulders.

Alexander’s breath was warm on the back of his neck, and the familiar scent of Peter’s aftershave enveloped him in a hazy cloud.

Zoning out, he was only dimly aware when Alexander leaned closer, his freshly shaven jaw brushing against his cheek.

“That’s it, just relax. That feels good, doesn’t it?” Alexander murmured in his ear. “Your shoulders are incredibly tense – they’re like iron. I’ve never massaged anyone with muscles this hard before. You need to relax more. Just let go. Let me take care of you. That’s it, that’s it…”

He closed his eyes, soothed by Alexander’s mesmeric voice. “That’s better. See how good it can feel if you just let go…”

The words tickled against his skin, and then he felt Alexander’s lips gently pressing against his cheek. He jerked away.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Just massaging you, sir…” Alexander reached out again, but Josiah grabbed his wrist, clenching hard.

“Not that – did you just try and kiss me?”

“Yes, sir. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You’re lonely, and I’m your servant now. I can take care of that. Isn’t that why you broughtme here?” Was there a hint of a challenge in Alexander’s demure eyes?

---