Page 65 of The Lost Zone (Dark Water #3)

He kept his mask in place as he greeted Bagshaw gracefully. “Martin! I wasn’t expecting you. What a lovely surprise. We have so much to catch up on.”

Taking Bagshaw’s hand, he led him to the dining room, where candles were burning and an intimate dinner for two was laid.

Alex was almost disappointed; so, once again, Tyler wouldn’t be joining them.

How he longed to glance at the smartwall, to throw out a taunt or issue an ultimatum.

To demand Tyler’s presence, to force a showdown. But instead, he played along dutifully.

He sat at the table with Bagshaw and laughed at the man’s jokes, touched his arm lightly, full of flirtatious promise, and later, when the time came, took him to his bedroom.

He knew Bagshaw’s tastes. He sat on his knee and giggled into his neck.

This was followed by a little light spanking, because he’d been “naughty”, and a breathless chase around the bedroom.

Then Bagshaw cooed that he should put his little prince to bed.

It wasn’t so bad. Bagshaw was always affectionate, and the sex was more vanilla than with most, despite the performance that surrounded it.

Was it a sign of how jaded he was that he enjoyed seeing Bagshaw again? That was a depressing thought, but a part of him liked the man, despite his weakness. Bagshaw was a coward, but he wasn’t mean. When Alex wished him a tearful farewell the next day, he was only partly acting.

Mooching through his tiny library later that day, he was surprised to find some books he hadn’t read before.

They weren’t the run-of-the-mill thrillers and two-bit romances he’d read at least twice before.

This new collection contained a few old classics, mixed with some more recently published titles, and even a handful of biographies of famous engineers and artists.

They were precisely the kinds of books he’d choose for himself.

At first, he wondered if one of the guards had brought them to flick through during their tedious overnight guarding sessions, but none of them had showed any interest in the books and, on further examination, he was sure they were brand new, not the well-thumbed tomes that had been here when he arrived.

He took one of the books back to his room, his heart beating fast. God, he’d been so slow.

The playlist, the yoga teacher, and now new books.

Tyler most certainly was watching and paying attention – and he was still Tyler .

The carrot and the stick – Alex was being rewarded.

For a moment, he actually felt proud of himself for pleasing the man who’d locked him up and tortured him.

Then he wanted to take the books and hurl them against the wall, screaming that he wasn’t so easily manipulated.

He pondered his next move. Should he show some appreciation of the gift?

Or pretend he hadn’t figured it out? He was trying to ingratiate himself with his houder, to lull him into a false sense of security, but he didn’t want to appear slavishly grateful to the man.

He didn’t think Tyler would buy that level of change.

He had to still be Alex, but a better, more mature Alex.

An Alex who had been somehow “broken” in Belvedere and reprogrammed.

He remembered the little pictures he’d drawn at Belvedere.

There was no paper in the suite, and only a couple of pens which Marta used to do her endless Sudoku puzzles.

Alex took a napkin, sat down with one of them, and doodled.

He made sure to do it in full view of the smartwall and sat back often, making it clear he wasn’t writing a note to tuck into a guest’s pocket during an assignation.

His drawings were, as always, clever and funny.

Finally, he knew what he wanted to do. He took out a fresh napkin and, with a few deft flicks of his pen, he drew Tyler wearing a sharp business suit, sitting behind a desk under a sign saying Library .

He was proudly wearing a badge saying Librarian as he handed books out from a pile, all bearing the titles of the newly arrived volumes.

The person he was handing them to was clearly Alex, who received them with a beaming smile on his face.

“Would you give this to Mr Tyler?” Alex asked Harris nervously when he’d finished the sketch. He had no idea how the drawing would be received, but squashed down his nerves and forced himself to behave normally as he waited for a response.

A few days later, when he’d almost given up expecting there to be one, Andrew appeared in his bedroom with a sharp new suit for him.

“Wow, this is expensive.” He held it up and looked at himself in the mirror.

It was perfectly tailored to his exact measurements, of course – he’d expect no less.

Houndstooth check in navy and cream, with a crisp white shirt and matching waistcoat, plus a perfectly folded pocket square and a tie in burgundy silk…

It was all exquisite. When Andrew had shaved him, slicked his hair back with wax, and dressed him, he looked almost unrecognisable.

He wouldn’t be out of place in some posh city bank now, a rising young star out to make a name for himself.

It was almost impossible to wear this outfit, to feel the way it hung so perfectly and the fabric caressed his skin, and not to feel like the biggest man around: confident, cocksure, full of himself.

“Who is my guest tonight?” he asked.

“It’s a surprise.” Andrew tapped the side of his nose, smiling broadly. “But Frances has made a lovely meal, and the dining room is ready.”

“How mysterious.” Alex gazed at himself in the mirror with a rising tide of excitement. His drawing had clearly done the trick. This had to be the moment he met Tyler again, so he must be sure to have his wits about him.

He walked along the hallway to the dining room with butterflies churning in his stomach, repeating his song over and over again. He could feel Gideon’s hand on his shoulder, guiding him. You can do this. You’re ready.

He took a moment to compose himself outside the dining room, then plastered his mask on his face and opened the door smiling emptily, expecting to finally meet his nemesis again after all this time.

There was a man sitting there, facing the door. He was dressed, like Alex, in an expensive, exquisitely tailored suit… but it wasn’t George Tyler.

It was Jake Harper.

Alex almost froze. It took all his Belvedere training to make him continue walking into the room, his mind whirring.

He’d been so focused on meeting Tyler and rehearsing the million ways that could go, that he hadn’t thought about Tyler throwing him this particular curve ball.

He was an idiot. Tyler had clearly signalled his intentions, first with Rebecca and then with Bagshaw.

Alex should have practised how he’d approach an encounter with the man who had raped and brutalised him the previous year.

He should have found some way of mentally preparing himself, instead of focusing so much on Tyler.

He collected himself. C would tell him that it was self-indulgent and pointless to berate himself. He must concentrate, instead, on finding a way to be the perfect IS. How he felt about meeting his rapist again wasn’t important; he had a job to do.

“Mr Harper, what a pleasure to see you again,” he said smoothly.

Harper got to his feet. He was as handsome and well groomed as before, wearing a deliciously scented cologne.

Alex forced himself to walk up to the man, place his hands on his arms, and kiss him lightly on each cheek.

Last time, he’d played Harper all wrong.

He hadn’t been prepared for the savagery of the man’s sexual appetite.

This time, he’d be smarter. The end result might still be the same, but how he felt about it afterwards might not.

Harper drew back and looked at him thoughtfully from sharp blue eyes.

“You’ve changed,” he observed. “George said he’d sent you to a place where you could learn the error of your ways. I hope they beat some sense into you.” He all but licked his lips with relish at the thought.

“They were very thorough. You’d have enjoyed their methods.” Alex quirked his lips flirtatiously, and Harper gave a bark of laughter.

“Oh, you have changed.” Harper leaned back on the dining table and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which is kind of a shame. I did enjoy our last encounter. I liked you raw and innocent.”

“Oh, I can be that. I can be anything you want me to be,” Alex assured him with a knowing wink. “Just tell me. I pride myself on delivering the perfect experience for my guests. Would you like a repeat of last time, or something a bit different tonight?”

“Hmm.” Harper gazed at him curiously. “I’m not sure anything can come close to last time.”

“I agree. It was hot.” Alex nodded enthusiastically, as if he wasn’t talking about one of the worst days of his life.

“I’ll tell you what, Chef has prepared a delicious meal for us.

Why don’t we get to know each other better over dinner?

You can share your deepest, darkest fantasies with me, and we can discuss which one to act out. How does that sound?”

Harper slapped his jaw, suddenly and unexpectedly. “I’ll call the shots, boy.”

“Of course, sir.” Alex smiled at him brightly.

“Good. Now get down on your knees and earn your supper. I’m half-hard just looking at you.” Harper gestured to the bulge in his trousers. “God, I hate boys like you, teasing, flirting, and turning me on. You’re so fucking pretty, you should have been a girl.”