Page 14 of No Going Back

“Isn’t that a little presumptuous?”

“Not at all—it’s forward planning, and highly recommended for any campaign.”

“Oh, so I’m a campaign now?”

Damn it, but he was out of practice when it came to seducing the opposite sex. Take a breath, and next time you open your mouth, try not to put both feet in it.

“You’re the woman I’m planning to see again after tonight.”

“As I said, a little presumptuous. You may find you can’t wait for tonight to end.”

“I couldn’t wait for it to begin. And nothing I’ve seen so far leads me to believe I’ll be even remotely happy to see it end.”

“So when do you envisage it ending?”

After breakfast tomorrow. Guaranteed to freak her out. He’d save that for another time. “When I leave you at your door after a successful first date, with a firm commitment to a follow-up.”

“There’s nothing like confidence.”

“Maybe so, but that’s definitely a smile on your face, Ms. Scott.”

Over the course of dinner, Guy saw that smile an awful lot more, and the more he saw it, the more he liked it. He listened to Maddie’s stories about the weddings and other events she’d planned, and his enchantment with her flourished. At the end of the evening, it was with great reluctance that he returned her to Remington Grange.

Never anything less than a gentleman, he escorted Maddie to the hotel lobby, where he came to a halt. “Would you care to join me in a nightcap? The bar’s still open.”

“I shouldn’t—I have work tomorrow. Although I don’t suppose a small one would do much harm. What about the car and driver, though?”

“The car’s mine, and the driver only turns into a pumpkin at midnight. We still have over an hour before I’ll have to walk home.”

“Do you live far from here?”

“Twenty miles or so.” He’d yomped further on joint exercises with the Royal Marines, but a taxi would get him home faster. “Don’t worry. Let’s go and get that drink.”

The bar was still fairly busy, but Guy managed to find a table for two in a quiet corner. A couple of the chairs had been whisked away by guests at other tables, leaving only a low-backed leather sofa. An obliging waiter delivered their drinks—a cognac for Guy and an Armagnac for Maddie—and after the first sip, Guy prepared to ask the question that had been preying on his mind for the last half-hour.

“Given that you’re here with me now and you haven’t slapped my face, dare I ask if I’ve earned the privilege and honour of a second date?”

“I haven’t slapped your face yet,” she corrected, with a smile more mischievous than reassuring. “The jury’s still out on that one.”

They made small talk for a while, and by the time their glasses were empty, the bar was too. Only one barman remained, and he looked none too happy about it.

“It’s getting late,” Guy observed. “I’d better escort you to your quarters.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not as if I have far to go.”

“I don’t care. I’ve never not seen a lady to her door, and I don’t intend to start with you.”

Arm in arm, they made their way back to Maddie’s accommodation. Guy wished the night could go on a little longer, but there were no more excuses.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me tonight,” he said as they approached the door. He released her arm but caught hold of her hand, lifting it for a kiss. “It’s been a great pleasure, Maddie.”

“The pleasure was all mine. It’s a long time since someone asked me out to dinner. You made it a very special evening—thank you for asking me.”

“And has the jury delivered its verdict yet?”

“It has, and I’m afraid that verdict is…. guilty. Very, very guilty.”

“Of…?” Though he projected an air of calm confidence, Guy was more nervous than he’d thought possible.