Guard of Honor by Tracie Delaney
Chapter Seventeen
Honor polishedoff a meal larger than any Mack had seen her eat in the short time they’d known each other. Maybe it was the clean air, or the change of setting, but whatever the reason, a few more meals like that and she’d gain some much-needed poundage. Woman was hot, but she’d be even hotter with a little meat on her frame.
She insisted on clearing away their dinner things, and he let her. According to her, keeping her hands busy kept her mind busy. He understood that all too well.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that as night had drawn in and the birds had fallen silent, she’d gotten nervy as fuck, jumping at every little thing. But when she dropped a glass and it shattered all over the wooden floor, Mack rose to his feet.
“Go and sit down in the living room. Let me finish up here.”
She wrung the towel for drying the glass in her hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Mack tugged it from her grip and set it on the side of the sink. “Go. Sit. I’ll be in, in a minute.”
She did as she was told—goddamn miracle—and he swept up the broken shards of glass, stacked the dishwasher, and wiped the countertops. When he wandered into the living room, he found her sitting on the couch, knees tucked into her chest, her arms hugging them.
“Tell Loris I’ll pay for the breakage.”
“Fuck the glass. Loris won’t give two shits about a bloody glass.” He plunked down next to her and unwound her arms from her legs. “Okay, let’s just get this out there, and then you can take a proper fucking breath. We’re not having sex. Not tonight.”
Her head jerked back and a ready denial formed on her lips, and then she let out a soft sigh.
“How did you know?”
“I read minds in my spare time.” He played with the tips of her fingers. “I told you earlier to just let shit happen. Stop trying to live by rules you’ve designed. There’s no checklist other than the one you’ve created inside that pretty head of yours. I brought you here to get away from the city, to give you space to think and find out who the fuck Honor Reid is. ’Cause I don’t think you have a clue.”
“I know who I am,” she responded too quietly for her to feel it deep in her bones.
“You might have known who you were, but you’re not that person any longer. The woman you were before your abduction is dead. She’s never coming back. You have to allow a rebirth of sorts, and that takes time. Bringing you here is just the start. There’s a long way to go, but like I learned in rehab when trying to kick the booze, it’s important to take one day at a time. And as for you and me, shit, Red, there’s no worse turnoff than having to perform according to a timetable. If it feels right, it’ll happen. If it doesn’t, then, fine. It doesn’t.”
She gave him those big green doe eyes. “You’re not mad?”
He barked a short laugh. “No, I’m not mad.”
“I want to. I do. It’s just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, or to anyone. I prefer spontaneity. It’s much more fun that way.” He kissed the tips of two of her fingers. “It’s been a long day, and you’ve got a lot to process. Why don’t you go on up to bed, get some sleep? I’ll be right next door. If you need me, holler. Tomorrow we can relax, explore the grounds, maybe go for a swim in the lake.”
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”
“Only fucking thing you didn’t pack.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And for the record, I didn’t either.”
“Okay, okay. You’ve made your point about my over-packing.”
She grinned then pecked his lips, and as much as he would’ve loved to deepen the kiss, he refrained. Getting the both of them all riled up might lead to something she clearly wasn’t ready for and would regret after the heat of the moment passed.
She trudged up the stairs. When she disappeared from sight, he rose to his feet and opened the drawer where he’d put the bear. He lifted it out. The head had been detached from the body with force. Could Honor have done this and simply not remembered? He still wasn’t sure, but the closer he got to the woman, the more that doubt crept into his mind. If she was responsible, then she needed professional help. If she wasn’t, then who was? Apart from him, her father, and Lizzie, no one else came to the house.
He returned the bear to the drawer and closed it. If Honor didn’t mention it again, he’d throw it away.
At the sound of her bedroom door clicking shut, he checked the external door locks, then grabbed his laptop. Until now, he’d refrained from doing any further research on Honor other than what Loris had provided. But up here, away from the grime and incessant noise of the city, curiosity reared its head. The only daughter of one of America’s richest self-made billionaires had to have a social media footprint from before she was taken, and an urge within him that demanded satisfaction craved to see the woman she’d been back then.
It took less than a second for hundreds of results to appear on the screen, and he clicked on the Videos tab at the top of the search engine. Previews appeared down the right-hand side of the screen, and he clicked on one that claimed to be of her graduation from Yale.
The woman who strutted across the stage full of confidence and assuredness of her place in the world was in direct contrast to the one sleeping in the bed upstairs. She had at least fifteen pounds more on her tall frame and looked a hell of a lot better for it. Her hips swayed as she moved, and she flicked her hair as the dean or whoever handed out the degrees passed over her certificate wrapped in a red bow. She took it from him, smiled, and then turned and blew a kiss to someone in the audience.
Boyfriend, maybe?
His stomach hardened, and a burning swept through his chest. She’d already fessed up to having sex with her whole “I’m not a virgin” statement on the street outside her house, and why wouldn’t she have? The woman on the screen would likely have captivated half the male population of Yale, and probably a good slug of the females, too. Honor Reid drew people to her without even being aware of the power she held naturally. She must have had to fight men off with a stick before she self-exiled herself.
He switched to another video, one of her being interviewed by some gossip rag. Her sweet voice, strong and true, rang out, and there wasn’t a sign of the tremor that she often displayed now. She exuded poise, and her smile came quick. And that sexy dimple…
Shifting his position to give his dick more room, he watched another video, this one of her talking to a journalist about a play she’d directed, a small affair premiering at a tiny theater off-Broadway. She spoke with such pride and love for her chosen profession, and then, wham! In a puff of smoke, some bastard had whipped the rug out from under her and sent her life careering into a different direction, one that would have lasting consequences.
Rage, hot and fiery, grew inside him. It had been a good long while since he’d allowed such feelings of searing anger, and he let it come, permitted it to grow and fester. Best to get it all out now while he was alone.
Thirty long minutes passed before his heart slowed to a normal rhythm. He hadn’t deserved what ISIS had done to him, or the life they’d stolen, but he wasn’t an innocent. He’d killed people, given orders that had resulted in the deaths of living, breathing human beings. Some had deserved it; some had just gotten caught up in the crossfire or had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. That was war in all its horrifying truth. But Honor was innocent, her only crime that of having a rich father. She deserved to find herself again, to regain some semblance of the poised, assertive woman he’d seen in those videos.
And however long it took, he’d see that she got there.
Fuck three months. He was in this for the long haul.
* * *
Mack woke with a banging headache reminiscent of hangovers of old, and a raging hard-on. He’d dreamed of her. Soft, creamy skin sliding against his, firm tits bouncing as she rode him, a hot, wet pussy sheathing his cock.
He checked his watch. Oh six hundred. Tossing back the covers, he dove into the shower and took care of his throbbing dick while replaying the dream. He came hard and fast and felt no satisfaction afterward. Squirting a dollop of shampoo into his palm, he lathered his hair, washed himself, and then trimmed his beard.
Leaving his room, he stood outside Honor’s door, his ears cocked for any sign she was up and about. All quiet, he traipsed downstairs, the wood creaking under his heavy weight. He moved to the coffee machine, then changed his mind. Wrestling with that thing would put him in a bad mood. He’d wait for Honor to come down. Her gentle persuasion bore far more fruit—or in this case, coffee—than his forcefulness.
He grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge and wandered onto the deck out back. The lake looked more like a millpond, still and as reflective as glass. Sun was up, but it was still cool. Flowers swayed in a mild breeze, and Mack wondered if whoever tended the extensive gardens planned to make a visit in the next few days. Shooting off a text to Loris asking that very thing, he sat on a lounger, put his feet up, and listened to the birds sing while sipping his juice. Loris replied, confirming the gardener came by twice a week. Thursdays and Sundays. Name of Jed. Local guy in his fifties. Mack dropped a message back.
Give Jed a couple of weeks off. I can push a mower around.
For Honor’s sake, he preferred not to have strangers wandering around the place, even if they were regulars and on Loris’s payroll. His boss replied confirming he’d handle it.
The stairs creaked, bringing his head around in time to watch Honor pick her way downstairs. He sauntered inside, his gaze sweeping over her. Dark circles were noticeably absent, and the paleness of her skin had lifted, too.
“Sleep well, then,” Mack stated.
“I remember nothing after my head hit the pillow.”
“Good. Fresh air is the best medicine. Want a juice?” He held up his half-finished bottle of OJ.
She glanced at it and then at him. “I’ll make some coffee.”
Mack grinned. “Thank God.”
Five minutes later, they sat in companionable silence, sipping on hot java and enjoying the view of the lake shimmering in the early morning sun. Mack checked out the sexy woman sitting beside him, with legs for days. Damn, he’d struck gold.
“I might change rooms,” Honor said. “I like the idea of waking to this view, and the room at the back looks directly over the lake.”
“Been exploring, have we?” Mack’s lips turned up at the edges in a teasing half smile. “If you hadn’t thrown a snit yesterday, you wouldn’t have to move a ton of clothes.”
“I did not throw a snit.”
An arch of his eyebrow brought a resigned sigh from her.
“Okay, maybe I was a little peeved, but in my defense, it was a long trip and I was tired.”
“If you say so.”
She made a frustrated noise. “You are an aggravating man; anyone ever told you that?”
He hitched up his shoulder. “Some.” A loud rumble in his midsection had him standing. “I’ll get breakfast on the grill, then we’ll take that walk we talked about last night, check out the grounds. After lunch, maybe we can take the boat out or go for a swim.”
His genial attitude melted away her advancing sour mood, and she hit him with a smile that warmed his groin.
“Skinny-dipping?”
“Depends on if you want to get your clothes wet or not.”
He picked up his coffee and strolled inside. She followed, hip propped against the frame of the sliding doors, hands curved around her mug, watching as he set bacon on the grill, whisked eggs—with added cheese—and crammed bread into the toaster.
“Oh, hell.” Honor set her mug to the side. “I forgot to call Papa last night.” She darted upstairs to fetch her phone, then stood on the back deck and made the call. By the time she finished, Mack had dished up breakfast. She sat at the table and set her phone beside her.
“He okay?”
“Yes. He had to dash off to an early meeting, but I said I’d call again this evening. I was concerned I wouldn’t get a good signal out here, but he was as clear as if he’d been standing right beside me.”
“All Loris’s places have great communications. Knowing him, there’ll be a mast or something close by, or he’ll have had special wiring put in to make sure of a strong signal.”
“I asked Papa to speak to Lizzie.”
Mack worked his jaw. “Why?”
“I’m worried about her, rattling around in the house all by herself. I asked him to find something for her to do to keep her occupied.”
“Probably best. Idle hands and all that.”
“Lizzie is one of the least idle people I know.”
Mack ignored her. He didn’t want to think about the spiky housekeeper, let alone give her airtime. Something about that young woman fired him up, and not in a good way.
Honor scooped up some eggs, chewing thoughtfully. “I hope you won’t get bored out here.”
Change of subject. Good.
“Me? Nah. I was brought up in a small village south of Edinburgh. The countryside suits me just fine.”
“Did you bring your drawing pad?”
“Yeah.”
“Great fodder around here.”
He set his eyes on her, searching her face, imagining drawing her with a backdrop of the lake, the trees, the startling blue sky. “That’s the truth.”
A secretive smile etched across her face. “Will you draw me?”
As if she read my mind.
“If you promise to sit still long enough.”
“I can do that.”
He nodded, then pointed his fork at her plate. “Eat. I’m itching to walk off the stiffness in my legs from the drive yesterday.”