“Of course.” Rafe moved to leave, but Alec held up his hand. “I’ve a favor to ask before you go. I’m looking for information on Sir Alfred. Whatever you can find. Anything he may have been involved in lately.”

Rafe raised a dark brow. “That’s rather vague.”

Alec rubbed his temples. “Yes, well. I’m not yet certain of what I’m looking for. But I know something’s not right.”

Rafe sat back in his chair. “So, the golden boy has finally seen the light.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been Sir Alfred’s acolyte, and there have been whisperings about your beloved mentor for twice as long as that. Though it would take a hell of a lot to topple him. I’ve tried to talk about your unquestioning loyalty before, but you wouldn’t hear of it.”

Alec blanched. The conversation Rafe referred to had been over two years ago. After Turkey, when Alec was almost killed pursuing a lead at Sir Alfred’s personal request. It was the only time he had taken a life. It had been entirely in self-defense, but Alec still saw the man’s face sometimes in the dead of night.

“So, tell me: What’s changed?” Rafe prompted.

Alec kept his face blank. “It’s only a hunch.”

Rafe gave him a skeptical look but didn’t press him. That would come later. “I’ll do some digging. Perhaps this London contact can help.” This time they both stood. Alec walked him to the door and they shook hands.

“Good luck tonight,” Rafe said. “And do let me know if you have any more of these hunches.”

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

After Alec closed the bedroom door behind him, Lottie paced back and forth, waiting for her heart to stop skittering. She should have insisted on staying with him, or at least asked who that handsome, dark-haired man was, but she was still reeling from their exchange outside his door. Alec had been holding himself back, straining against some unseen force, but for one brief moment his carefully controlled facade had fallen away again.