No Going Back (Club Aegis Book 6)

by Christie Adams

  “Which tells me nothing. Guy, I can’t see you sitting back and enjoying retirement in the country, day in, day out. What are you going to do? And who’s taking over the unit?”

  “Changes are on the way. Several factors influenced my decision, not least of which is the unit being subsumed under a larger organisation. It’ll lose what made it unique, and what made it unique also made it successful. As for what I’m going to do… I was going to save it for my first day at the new job. On reflection, it might be better to tell you now. Alex Lombard made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I’ll be joining you at Spectrum as their government liaison director.”

  “Really? You’re not joking?”

  Guy couldn’t help but smile. “No, I’m not joking. I start on the first of the month. You don’t mind?”

  “Why on earth would I mind? I just wish everyone else from the team could join us. What?” Suspicion narrowed her gaze. “What else don’t I know?”

  “You know Spectrum’s expanding—we’re going to need extra manpower to carry out those plans. The people have got to come from somewhere, and you know as well as I do, the unit has the best.”

  “You’re bringing everyone with you?”

  “Let’s just say, I put an alternative on the table. Something for them to consider, if the new management regime isn’t to their liking. Now, how about if we change the subject to something far more interesting. Are you still planning to stay for the weekend?”

  “If that’s okay with you?”

  “As if you need to ask. You may have moved out years ago, but Stonehaven will always be your home. Yours too, now, Simon. I know you have that draughty old place in London, but—”

  “Not for much longer, Guy.” Simon lifted Ros’ hand to his mouth for a gallant kiss. “My fiancée has done me the great honour of moving in with me since her apartment went on the market just before we went away. My ‘draughty old place’ goes up for sale at the end of next week. If it sells as quickly as the estate agent thinks it will, we may need to impose on your good graces for a while.”

  “You know you can stay as long as you like. Where are you looking?”

  “Probably not too far away,” Ros replied. “It needs to be commutable for Oxford and wherever the guys decide to set up the new HQ for Spectrum.”

  The security business was growing into a force to be reckoned with. As a consequence. Alex, Cam and Ryan were looking for a site where they could establish a lot more than just an office to meet and greet clients.

  “Unless they make a radical change to their plans, I think anywhere within the intersection of a twenty-five-mile radius of Stonehaven and Oxford would fit the bill. Are you looking for something you can move into immediately, or a project?”

  “Either. I have to admit, though, the idea of designing a place we can call our own is very appealing.” Simon slipped an arm around Ros.

  The way she leaned into him filled Guy with a satisfying sense of family. He recalled a conversation he’d had with Ros shortly before she and Simon left for their vacation, and wondered if she’d initiated the discussion he’d suggested. Stonehaven needed a riot of children creating havoc before it turned into a dusty, decaying museum, and he was roaming the halls like a desiccated old mummy.

  “If you’re really looking for a money pit, there’s a place about fifteen, twenty miles north of here you might want to take a look at. That’s if you want to take it on in addition to a new job and organising a wedding?”

  “Why not?” Ros glowed with happiness. “It’s probably going to be months before we can get married anyway, so—”

  Simon disagreed. “It doesn’t have to be.”

  She raised an eyebrow in his direction. Guy knew that eyebrow of old. His lips twitched. Erring on the side of caution, he hid the smile threatening to erupt, and awaited her reaction.

  She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. “Men! I swear… Do you have any idea what’s involved in organising a wedding?”

  “A venue? A registrar? A celebrant?”

  Ros shook her head. “Congratulations, you aced the theory, but the practical? Whole different ballgame. We need the registrar to be available on the same day as the venue and the celebrant, not to mention the string quartet, the caterers—”

  “Whoa! Wait right there. String quartet?”

  Guy clamped his lips together. A burst of laughter at this critical moment probably wouldn’t be received well.

  “When was the last time you went to a wedding? We both agreed we don’t want to get married in a church, so we’re looking at the register office or something like a country house hotel. I am not getting married in a register office. Therefore, it’s going to be at a hotel. Hmphhh!”

  Guy couldn’t hold it in any longer. He roared with laughter at the sight of Simon silencing his indignant fiancée with a kiss that made Guy wonder whether he should execute a swift diplomatic withdrawal.

  As their lips parted, he was glad he hadn’t. The look Simon gave Ros was one of pure, naked love. Guy had no doubt he’d just witnessed a moment of deep, silent intimacy between a submissive and his Mistress.

  “Guy, I have a favour to ask. I have to head over to Brussels on Sunday night for a week of meetings. Would you keep an eye on Ros for me while I’m away?”

  Ros turned a laser-like glare on her husband-to-be. “Excuse me? Who’s the professional bodyguard here?”

  Guy rolled his eyes. Some things never changed, and were all the better for it. “Close protection officer, and if I may remind you, young lady, you’re out of that game now.”

  At least, she was in terms of active duty, and definitely would be when she started in her new role as Spectrum’s head of VIP security. She’d made the decision while on vacation, and had called to let Guy know a couple of days ago.

  “Thank God.” The heartfelt comment came from Simon. “If she starts visiting potential venues while I’m away, please would you make sure she doesn’t do too much?”

  “Simon, we’ve had this discussion so many times. It’s been months. I’ve healed well, I’ve got my energy back, I’ll be fine.”

  Months since she’d been shot while rescuing Simon from the thugs who’d kidnapped him on the orders of a man he’d once called friend. Given that she’d almost died, Guy couldn’t blame her fiancé for wanting to wrap her in cotton wool.

  “Besides, how tiring is it going to be, visiting a few hotels to see if they’re suitable for our wedding?” she continued, apparently determined to make her point.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she takes it easy. It’ll be my pleasure to chauffeur her wherever she wants to go. I’ll get to spend some quality time with her as well.”

  “Do you mind? I am still here.” Ros folded her arms. Her fingers drummed her biceps in a tattoo that reminded Guy of the way a cat used its tail to signal an imminent fit of hissing and spitting. She was here, all right, and she wouldn’t let them forget it, either.

  “We know.” Guy didn’t mean only in terms of her presence in the room. Having her with them when she’d been so close to death was nothing short of a miracle. “So what’s your plan for the next few days?”

  “To exploit your hospitality mercilessly, of course.” Ros’ sparkling smile returned. “I thought we’d take it easy tomorrow—maybe go for a ride, and spend some time lazing around the pool. Simon has to be back in London on Sunday for the train to Brussels. I’ll probably check on the house while I’m there, and possibly stay overnight. I’m not sure yet. While he’s dealing with bureaucrats, I can make a start on the wedding.”

  “You could always have the reception here, you know. It’s not as if we’re exactly short of space.”

  “And have Heather rushed off her feet? Not to mention you’re living in cloud cuckoo land if you think for one moment Della would tolerate outside caterers creating havoc in her kitchen. The circus would drive you crazy. Besides, Heather, Rob, Della and everyone else will be honoured guests. I don’t want them lifting a finger—ap
art from Heather, if she’ll agree to help me choose a dress.”

  “I take your point, and you’re quite right—she’d run herself ragged trying to organise everything.” Guy rose and picked up his cigar and glass of cognac. “Okay, I’m going to leave you young things to enjoy the rest of your evening. Nothing’s changed since the last time you were here, help yourselves to whatever, and I’ll see you for breakfast. Or not. Have fun.”

  Suddenly feeling a good deal older than his fifty-two years, Guy headed for his bolt hole in the west wing. It wasn’t like him to feel so down, especially when Ros and Simon were not only visiting, but had brought good news with them as well. He could only put it down to their happiness being yet another reminder of how his personal life had gone so disastrously wrong.

  He’d been thinking about Liz far too much recently, a situation he guessed had been triggered by Ros’ brush with death. Seeing her so happy brought home to him exactly what he’d let slip through his fingers.

  A hard-headed realist, he knew it was no good wishing for what could never be.

  If wishing worked, he’d turn back time.

  If wishing worked, he’d tell his younger self not to be so damned arrogant.

  If wishing worked, he wouldn’t let Liz go, and somehow he’d save her from burning to death in that bloody fire.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Five hotels in three days. If that wasn’t a cruel and unusual punishment, Guy didn’t know what was. He’d had no idea his niece would be so picky when it came to choosing the venue for her wedding.

  He also decided that his future nephew-in-law owed him big time for running the gauntlet of overzealous events planners. If the effort they put into convincing Ros to use them for her nuptials could be harnessed to the national electricity network, the country’s energy needs would be satisfied for a century.

  He did have to admit, though, that on a sunny May morning, this particular establishment did look far more appealing than the others. They’d approached it up a long, winding drive, through acres of parkland, past well-kept grounds and a field where alpacas were grazing. He’d done a double-take at the sight. Ros had been a little too happy to confirm he wasn’t hallucinating, and the animals were indeed what he’d thought they were.

  “Guy, would you mind stopping at this end of the car park, before we go in?”

  “Of course.” He recognised her tone. “What’s wrong?”

  “Am I doing the right thing? Marrying Simon?” The sun streaming in through the windscreen glinted off the diamond solitaire as she fiddled with her engagement ring.

  “What’s brought this on? Is everything all right between you two?” He’d seen nothing to indicate that wasn’t the case, but that didn’t prove anything.

  Ros’ sigh could have been heard in the next county. “For me, it couldn’t be more perfect, and that’s what worries me. What if it’s not as perfect for him? He’s so out of my league.”

  Guy would have laughed if he’d thought there was even the slightest possibility she was joking. “On what basis do you believe that load of bullshit?”

  “One, he’s a genius, and two, he’s a billionaire. I’m a washed-up ex-army officer—”

  “You can stop right there. Is that how I brought you up? Ros, you and Simon are made for each other. He loves you—”

  “And I love him… so much. But what if I’m not enough for him? He’s around these super-intelligent people all day, and… Oh hell, maybe I’m just being stupid because I’m missing him.”

  “You said ‘and’. And what? Come on, spit it all out. If you don’t, it’ll only fester.”

  Ros gave another deep sigh and closed her eyes for a moment. “You know Simon’s been establishing the research centre. He’s been spending a lot of time with his colleagues, which you’d expect. There’s one—Nia—who’s… She’s as smart as Simon, slim, petite…”

  “And not you. Have you met this woman, spoken to her?”

  “Not as such. I saw her when I went to pick Simon up once. I was early, and I saw them together.”

  “Together? How together?”

  “They were talking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Simon so animated.”

  Guy disagreed. “Yes, you have. He always looks animated when he talks about his work. After you, it’s his greatest passion. You said she’s a colleague—don’t you think they were most likely talking about work when you saw them?”

  “When you put it like that…”

  “And you’re forgetting how long I’ve known Simon. You’re everything to him. I see it in the way he looks at you all the time. You talk about him being animated—you’ve never seen him when he talks about you. This other woman may be a genius, but she’s not you. As for Simon’s fortune—if you told him he had to make a choice between it and you, he wouldn’t even dignify that with a response. You’re his life. And washed-up ex-army officer? Give me a break. I’ve never heard such nonsense in my life. You’re about to become the head of VIP protection in the best private security company in the country. They didn’t ask you to take that on out of charity, they asked you because you’re the best.”

  With a small laugh, Ros shook her head. “I’m just being stupid, aren’t I?”

  “You’re not being stupid. Think about everything that’s happened over the last few months. We damn near lost you, you’re taking on a new role, and you’re about to take the single biggest step anyone takes in their personal life. And regarding the last of those, to the best of my recollection, you spent years convinced it would never happen for you. Everyone has moments of insecurity—the trick is to recognise them as moments and let them pass. Don’t get hung up on something that’s never going to be real.”

  “I know you’re right, it’s just…” She smiled and gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. “What I should hang onto are different moments, the good ones. Right?”

  “Exactly. Now, are you ready to go in and see if this is place ticks all the boxes for the venue for you to make an honest man out of Simon?”

  “I’m ready. Let’s go.” She turned back to the hotel. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one—this could be it.”

  True, but Guy wasn’t about to put his shirt on it. If nothing else, he didn’t want to have to explain why he needed a replacement on his next visit to his Jermyn Street tailor.

  They reported to reception, and were asked to take a seat in the lobby. Guy used to the time to size up the place—classy and stylish came to mind, words that resonated when he caught sight of the woman walking towards them.

  Liz.

  A silent curse broke the spell that in a fraction of a second had overwhelmed him. Liz was dead, and this woman looked nothing like her anyway, beyond a superficial similarity in gait. Even so, as she approached, Guy experienced an unexpected stirring of genuine interest in her.

  “Good morning. Welcome to Remington Grange. My name’s Madeleine Scott. I’m the events manager for the hotel. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Edwards.”

  Guy watched the woman shake hands with Ros. Captivated by the alluring combination of smoke and honey in her voice, he was barely aware of his niece explaining the reason for his presence in place of her fiancé.

  Like other members of the hotel’s front-of-house staff, Ms. Scott was immaculately turned out. The tailored suit projected a corporate image, but somehow managed to enhance her trim femininity without compromising her aura of professionalism. Although her hair was gathered in a neat bun at her nape, a few carefree strands softened the severity of the style. What snagged his attention, though, and had done at first sight, was her smile. She held him captive and wouldn’t let go.

  Not that he had any interest in escaping.

  Her features held the serene confidence of maturity rather than the bold brashness of youth. Guy was thoroughly enchanted. Transfixed by her warmth and the glowing smile reflected in her eyes, almost against his will, he flicked a look at her hands to check for rings.

  He had no business checking f
or rings.

  He especially had no business being so relieved by their absence. Besides, lack of a ring was no indication of marital status—not everyone was as stubbornly traditional as him.

  When Ms. Scott turned to him, the bland expression he’d perfected for dealing with obsequious civil servants and obnoxious politicians alike evaporated like mist in the sun. In its place was the most genuine smile he’d given a stranger in a long time.

  To his surprise, hers faltered—only a little, and anyone less observant would most likely have missed it, but it didn’t escape him. Nor did he miss the minute and frankly puzzling tremor in her handshake. “Sir Guy.”

  “Please—call me Guy,” he replied, following Ros’ lead. There were occasions when protocol demanded the title, others where it was useful to ease the way. This was neither, so he wasn’t about to stand on ceremony.

  With his words, her smile regained its radiance. “Guy it is, in which case, you must call me Maddie.” She shifted her gaze to take in both of them once again. “My apologies, but the planner who was due to meet you has been called away on a family emergency. I can reschedule your appointment, but I’d hate you to have a wasted journey. I’m more than happy to give you a tour of our event spaces and facilities, and talk you through what we can offer for your special day.”

  Guy liked the way her attention switched solely to Ros as she finished speaking. His attention remained on Maddie.

  For once, he was more than happy to play the part of spear carrier. Apart from anything else, it afforded him the opportunity to divide his concentration between his surroundings and the delectable rear view of Maddie Scott. His niece knew her own mind on most things, and Guy doubted this would be any different, now she’d seemingly recovered from that uncharacteristic hesitation in the car.

  Besides, as a mere male, he was likely to be as much use as a chocolate teapot when it came to the finer details. Ros had pretty much made the same point to Simon before he left for his trip to Brussels.

  “Leave everything to me. All you have to do on the day is get dressed and show up. I’ll arrange everything. Deal?”