Page 73 of No Going Back

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Here. Let me do that. We can’t have you looking like an unmade bed for the photos.”

Guy never looked like an unmade bed—it was a matter of personal pride. Furthermore, he was more than capable of fixing his own bow tie, but he was becoming rather partial to having Maddie fuss over him. Today was a special day for so many reasons. Not only was it Ros and Simon’s wedding day—it was the day he’d chosen to ask the woman he loved to be his. To ask her if she’d do him the honour of wearing his ring and his collar.

They’d spent the night together in Maddie’s quarters at the hotel. When she’d tried to sneak away at a ridiculously early hour to check on the preparations for the ceremony, he’d put her over his knee. After giving her a sound spanking for not sharing the responsibility with him, he’d accompanied her on her quest to make sure everything was as close to perfection as possible. He’d seen her professionalism first-hand, and been both impressed and not in the least surprised. She’d applied the same dedication, focus and resourcefulness when they’d worked together in British Intelligence.

In the lightweight summer dress he’d helped her choose for the wedding, she was a jaw-dropping beauty. The soft-hued tones were a stunning complement to her colouring. Right now, it was still on its hanger. Although he was honoured to give Ros away to the man who loved her, the greater honour for him was to take his place at Maddie’s side.

“Madeleine.” He turned in her arms and took a step back, so he could take her hands in his. The sight of her in the lacy lingerie was almost enough for him to throw caution to the winds and take her back to bed. If he did that, though, Ros was likely to kill him for missing her wedding, and she knew so many interesting ways to do it. “There’s something I need to say to you. Please remove your shoes and kneel for me. Hands behind your back.”

She was so elegant. His body responded instantly to the sight of her on her knees before him, with her hands clasped at the base of her spine. Her eyes were lowered in respect, and her shoulders were back, thrusting her breasts into delightful prominence. He placed his hand on the crown of her head, taking care not to disturb the intricate updo. The tension stiffening her body evaporated.

“Today is Ros and Simon’s day, but before we go down and get this show on the road, I have a question I need to ask you.” He gave a short, humourless laugh. “I need to ask you more than one question, and I should have done it a long time ago.”

He opened the dresser drawer, where he’d stashed the jeweller’s boxes. The larger one, which he removed first, held two items—one for her, and one for him. Hers was the diamond necklace, an elegant creation he’d had made for her. He’d barely been able to wait for it to be completed. He’d collected it just the day before. His part of it was the key that fastened the delicate, jewelled padlock at one end of the necklace.

“Will you do me the honour of accepting my collar and the commitment it represents, and belong to me as I belong to you?”

She looked up at him, and if he’d ever doubted her love, what he saw in her gaze would have extinguished every last glimmer of uncertainty.

“I will, Sire. And the honour is mine. Thank you.”

Guy carefully released the breath he’d been holding. Amazingly, he didn’t fumble as he locked the necklace in place. For now, the key would be safe in his waistcoat pocket. After the weekend, it was going on a chain around his neck, close to the heart he’d given to this woman a long time ago.

“Give me your hands.”

He helped her to stand, then picked up the second, smaller box. He flipped the lid open. The jeweller had told him the Art Deco ring was over eighty years old. The stunning design was centred on a rectangular emerald. The stone was flanked by two baguette-cut diamonds, with smaller diamonds on the shoulders of the platinum and yellow gold setting. The exquisite jewel paled into insignificance next to the woman whose finger he hoped it would adorn.

“Now for the second question. Would you marry me? Or at least move into Stonehaven, and stop me rattling around the place like a fossilised old fool. Please?”

“Guy, I’m not sure—”

“Not sure? About what?” Whatever reassurance she needed, she’d have.

“I’m not sure I’m cut out to be Lady of the Manor. What about Heather?”

“Heather runs Stonehaven, but she’s not its mistress. Her role is completely different. You and she would make a great team. Besides, she’d love another woman in the place to keep me in line. Anyway, you don’t think the ‘Lady of the Manor’ sits around, drinking camomile tea all day, do you?”

“No, but I don’t think there’ll be much time for camomile tea in my future.”

“Meaning?” Guy wasn’t sure whether he should feel uneasy or not.

“I need to work.”

“You know I won’t stop you. I know you’ve arranged the wedding of the season for Ros, but are you really telling me you really want to spend the rest of your life organising parties for a bunch of inbred ingrates?” The lack of conversation around Alex Lombard’s job offer had disturbed him. The waste of her talent and experience appalled him, but if she’d chosen to decline the offer after all, he wouldn’t stand in her way.

“When I could be doing precisely what instead?”

He wanted to believe he heard a hint of teasing in her voice. “Working with me. Think you might accept the challenge?”

“I’m close to making a decision, I think. I just have another couple of questions.”

“Maybe I can help.”

“Maybe you can. I was wondering—does this job have any perks that might… sway my decision?”

The twitch of her lips and the sparkle in her eyes gave away the ribbing behind her words. For her, he could think of plenty of perks, the kind that were making him hard again. “Time in the playroom for good behaviour.”