Page 113 of Crocodile Tears

Rolling out of bed, he pulled on one of Peter’s old bathrobes, because he didn’t feel comfortable walking around the house in his bed clothes.

Then he went along to the spare room and paused outside. Should he knock? He’d never had a servant before, and he wasn’t sure of the protocol. He shook himself – if Peter could see him now, he’d tell him to stop being such an idiot.

He was about to knock when he heard a thumping sound in the room. What the hell was happening in there? Was Alexander trying to escape? Surely he knew there was no point with Tracker Plus activated on his chip, but what if he was desperate…?

The thought suddenly crossed his mind that if Alexander was really desperate he might attempt suicide, so he shoved open the door without knocking… to find Alexander perched on a towel on the floor, clearly in the middle of a yoga pose.

“Sorry, I heard noises, and I thought you might be…” He trailed off with a feeble wave of his hand.

“Killing myself?” Alexander raised an eyebrow.

“The thought did cross my mind, yes.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m doing Sun Salutations – much less dramatic.” Alexander grinned at him.

Josiah sat down on the side of the bed, feeling stupid. “Would you?” he asked. “Would you consider suicide?”

“No.” Alexander pushed up his body with an effortless flex of his perfectly toned arms and landed on his feet in front of him.

“Why not?”

“You’re asking what I’ve got to live for?” Alexander picked the towel up from the floor and wiped his face with it.

“Yes,” Josiah said bluntly. “You’re an IS on an expensive contract, with little chance of ever being freed. Your last houder was murdered, and you’re stuck with a temporary new one who hasn’t ruled you out as his prime suspect. To all intents and purposes, your life is looking pretty shitty right now, so yeah.”

Alexander laughed. “With all due respect, you must never take up counselling, sir – you’d be crap at it.”

Josiah smiled. He liked it when Alexander treated him like his army colleagues once had, trading banter and making jokes. It made this whole situation seem less strange.

Crouching down in front of him, Alexander touched his knee. “Iwould never commit suicide,” he said softly. “So you don’t need to worry about that.”

“You feel you have a purpose? Something to live for?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And what is that? Explain it to me.”

Alexander rocked back on his heels, gazing at him searchingly.

He gazed back intently, sensing he was in the presence of therealAlexander. The indie studied him as if he was weighing up something important, and Josiah held himself completely still, trying not to spook him. Then, suddenly, without warning, the mask was in place once more.

“My purpose is to serve, sir,” Alexander said smoothly, lowering his eyes.

Josiah gave a derisive snort. “I don’t believe that. There’s more to you than this perfect servant crap. Why do you hide?”

“Iamthe perfect servant, sir. People have spent large sums of money on making me into just that. I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

Josiah knew the moment had passed and felt a wave of disappointment. He’d been so close to finding out who this man really was, but Alexander clearly didn’t trust him enough for that – yet.

Sighing, he rubbed his chin, feeling the stubble rasp beneath his fingertips. “You’re up pretty early. Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” the indie replied, a shade too fast. “Did you sleep well too, sir? Because you look pretty shit.” He gave a little grin. “Do you mind me talking frankly like this? I sense you like it, but everyone’s different. I can adapt my manner to whatever style suits you.”

“I’d rather you were just yourself,” Josiah said with a sigh. “Whoever that is,” he added pointedly.

Alexander stood up. “As you wish, sir. I was thinking – I could shave you, or prepare your breakfast?”

“No thanks. I can do both those things myself.” He stood up, too, feeling irritated by the whole exchange.

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