Page 46 of No Going Back

“But you came back. That last night. Why?”

Guy tucked her head into his shoulder and kissed her hair. He remembered that night as if it were yesterday. “I had to see you one more time before they flew me out there. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I shouldn’t have come to you, but I—what is it?”

He’d felt her tense against him, as if talking about that time brought back memories she didn’t want to think about.

“Nothing. So you went to the Middle East.”

Guy nodded, knowing she’d feel the movement. “Got to where I was needed… and then I heard you’d died in a fire. Why the hell did you let them destroy your life like that? No mission warrants that kind of sacrifice.”

“I asked them to.” Her voice was bleak with memories. “Like you, I might not have come back. In the event of something happening to me, I wanted them to dispose of my estate in the way I wanted, not the way they thought I’d want.”

“Even so, to wipe out everything… Suppose you had come back, what did you think you’d come back to? What did you come back to?”

“What I wanted—a brand-new start.”

“But why?”

She pulled away, so she could look at him. “That was my price—a new life. I needed to start over. I’d lost you. I had no family. All my friends were in the service. You know as well as I do, it’s damn near impossible to build friendships with outsiders when you can’t be honest about who you are and what you do.”

“What else?” There was something she wasn’t telling him.

“To avoid temptation. If the mission was successful and I did come back, I’d have been tempted to find you. I was also scared that if I did find you, you’d reject me. I couldn’t bear the thought of that possibility, so I went for the nuclear option, to make it impossible for me even to try.”

“Death.”

“It had to be that way, don’t you see? The last thing I ever expected was to see you in my office.”

“Which brings me to another point—why the hell didn’t I recognise you?”

“It’s been a long time. Some people change more than others, and I had the coloured contact lenses, don’t forget.”

“There’s more to it than that. You never used to wear this much make-up.”

She tried to laugh it off. “The vanity of a middle-aged woman.”

“No, not buying it. What’s the real reason?”

Although she’d nestled against him again, she wouldn’t look in his direction. There was no doubt in his mind—she was hiding something.

Without a word, she extricated herself from his embrace, and made a beeline for the bathroom. He heard running water, then the sound of splashing. After a few minutes, the bathroom door opened again, but no Maddie.

“Madeleine? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Oh hell. Whenever a woman said that, it spelled trouble with a capital shitstorm. “What’s going on? Come out, please.”

She obeyed him, but her head was bowed, her now-loose hair falling in such a way as to conceal her face. Guy’s sense of unease increased. Did this have something to do with the heavy make-up she now favoured?

“Look at me, Madeleine.”

Her head jerked up almost involuntarily at his soft but compelling command. At first he couldn’t see anything wrong, but as he looked more closely…

His alarm growing by the second, Guy went to her. He cupped her face in his hands and tilted it upwards. The network of fine white scars paralysed his ability to breathe.

“The surgeon did the best he could, but this is as good as it’ll ever be. The disfigurement could have been a lot worse.”

“What happened?” With gentle fingers, he traced the lines closest to her hairline.