Guard of Honor by Tracie Delaney
Chapter Eighteen
The sun warmedthe back of her neck and as she breathed in, the smell of beech and maple filled her nostrils. Her bare legs brushed past ferns, and in a move very unlike her, she removed her shoes and curled her toes into the soft grass.
“Hope there aren’t snakes around here,” Mack commented.
Eyes wide with fright, she gawped at him. “Oh, Christ. Do you think there are?”
He twisted his lips. “No idea. You’re the local.”
She shoved her shoes back on, her eyes scanning the undergrowth for anything that slithered. If a snake showed itself, he wouldn’t see her for dust.
“I’m no more local than you are.”
Mack chuckled. “Not sure that’s altogether true, Red. There’s a bloody big ocean between your homeland and mine. Think I win on this occasion.”
“America is a vast country, in case you hadn’t noticed,” she responded stiffly. “I’m not exactly familiar with the wildlife. City girl through and through.”
“Don’t worry. Snake takes a bite out of you, I’ll suck out the poison.”
“Gee, thanks,” she muttered.
“You’re welcome.”
He moved slightly ahead of her, his long legs eating up the distance as they explored the grounds. She hung back, watching the way his muscles undulated and flexed beneath his black T-shirt. Feasting her eyes on his ass, it occurred to her that it should be a criminal offense to have an ass that looked as good as Mack’s. And then another thought registered: noticeably absent was the awful sense of dread, the hyper-alertness, and the prickly skin reminiscent of what insects crawling over her flesh might feel like.
After what had happened with Bubsy, she’d expected to wake this morning with a lump of anxiety sitting in her stomach. Except she hadn’t. And she’d slept the entire night, too. As gruff and uncompromising as Mack could be at times, as well as hellishly annoying and obstinate, he gave her confidence. She trusted him. He’d asked her to try to forget all the bad stuff and focus on the now, and that was what she would do.
“Hey, check this out.”
While she’d been dawdling and daydreaming, Mack had walked on ahead. She jogged to catch up to him. High up in what she thought was a beech tree, nestled among solid branches, was a tree house, complete with a wooden ladder fixed to the trunk. Mack shaded his eyes.
“Want to climb up and explore?”
A solid no advanced to the tip of her tongue. She wasn’t all that fond of heights, and as sturdy as the structure appeared, the wood might be rotten on the inside. A fall from that height would kill her, and she wasn’t ready to die yet.
Yet more proof that I’m getting better.
Mack laid a hand on her forearm. “I won’t let you fall.”
She squinted at him. “Stop rummaging inside my head. It’s freaking me out.”
A chuckle rumbled through his chest and arrowed right between her legs. Something about that deep laugh, so male, stirred her up inside, raising emotions she’d suppressed for so long. Emotions she’d often worried had been ripped from her, never to return.
“Let’s just say you’d make a terrible poker player.” He motioned toward the ladder. “You go first. Don’t look down. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Is that so you can check out my ass?”
“Damn straight.”
Steadying herself, she gripped the rungs of the ladder and took the first step. Then another. And another. She kept her eyes dead ahead, focused on the grooves in the thick bark, wondering if it was true that the more rings a tree had, the older it was.
Before she knew it, she’d stepped off the last rung and into the tree house. It was entirely empty, but it afforded a great view of the lake and the mountains nestled behind. Mack joined her, his big body dwarfing the space. He peered over her shoulder.
“Nice view.”
“I thought there’d be stuff up here.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. A day bed, maybe, or blankets and a pillow.”
He snagged her around the waist and brought their faces close. “And if there had been, what would you do?”
Her stomach flipped at the huskiness in his voice, the burning desire in his eyes. She swallowed, then licked her lips. “I don’t know.”
“Sure you do. You’re just not feeling brave enough to say.” He released her. “Let’s carry on. Still a fair bit of the grounds to explore yet. You okay climbing down? I’ll go first.”
Unsure of whether the hollowness in her tummy was relief or disappointment, she nodded, watching as he disappeared. Going down was trickier than climbing up, but she made it without even a stumble. It took another hour to cover the rest of the grounds, mainly because she kept stopping to smell a flower or watch a bee mine for pollen. Nature, in all its glory, was magnificent, and after less than a day, she’d become a fan. Maybe she wasn’t such a city girl after all.
“You were right,” she announced when they’d circled back to the house. “It was a good idea to come here. I feel so… at peace.”
“Good. Just relax and enjoy.” He picked a leaf out of her hair and let it flutter to the ground. “Want to check out Loris’s boat?”
She grinned. “I’d love to. Why don’t I rustle up some sandwiches, and we can have lunch out there, too?”
“Sounds good.”
An hour later, armed with a sizable picnic, her phone in case she wanted to take some pictures, and Mack’s drawing pad, they strolled down to the dock. She’d pictured a small craft, maybe enough room for three, hopefully with an engine rather than a couple of oars.
She was wrong.
Moored on the water, hidden from view behind the boathouse and the surrounding tall maples and beech trees, was a sleek cruiser, at least fifty feet in length.
“Big boat to keep at a safe house,” she mused.
“Loris probably uses this place from time to time. He loves boats. Has one at every home he owns that’s on the water. Besides, he prides himself on his clients being comfortable.”
She angled her head. “Do you know how to drive a boat?”
“I guess we’re going to find out.”
He helped her aboard, dropped down into the galley to stow their lunch, and in minutes, they backed out of the mooring and onto the open water. Watching Mack handle the boat with ease, she narrowed her eyes.
“You lied. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“I didn’t lie. I said we were going to find out. And we have. Yes, I know about boats. Now slap on some suncream and relax.”
Muttering to herself, which only brought a grin to his lips and irritated her more, she coated her bare skin in sunscreen and headed toward the stern. She sat on one of the deck chairs and turned her face up to the sun. The drone of the engine faded as she drifted off, coming to with a start at Mack’s hand on her shoulder.
“Thought we’d anchor here.” He jerked his chin at the mountain backdrop. “Nice background to draw you, if you’re still interested.”
She scrambled upright and turned her chair around so that the mountains were behind her. “Am I ever.”
Mack pulled up the spare chair and sat, resting his pad on his knee.
“What do I do?”
“Nothing. Just try not to fidget too much. And don’t talk. I like silence when I draw.”
“I can do that.”
He snorted. “You, keep it buttoned? We’ll see. Tell me when your arse goes numb, and we’ll take a break.”
She stuck out her tongue, and Mack chuckled in response.
Turned out that sitting still was harder than she’d thought, and after fifty minutes, she broke.
“I can’t feel my butt.”
Mack set down the pad. “Let’s take five. I could do with a drink anyway.”
She got to her feet. “Can I see?”
“No.”
Her lip stuck out in a pout. “Why not?”
“Because it isn’t finished.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“Well, I do.” He picked up the pad and tucked it under his arm. “Water, juice, or soda?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“To hold back from peeking? No, I don’t. You’re too curious by half.”
She giggled. “Am I that transparent?”
Mack tapped his temple. “Mind reader, remember?”
He disappeared below deck, returning with two bottles of water. He set his pad on the chair and twisted the cap off one of the waters and handed it to her, then opened his own.
“Sure is peaceful out here.” She took a swig from the bottle.
Mack chugged half of his, screwed the top back on, and put it on the deck. His arms came around her waist, and she could have sworn he smelled her hair. Goose bumps pebbled her skin, and a delicious tingle crept over the back of her neck. She rested her head against his firm chest and sighed softly.
“Do you feel it, Honor?” he murmured.
“Feel what?” she whispered.
“Transformation. You’re changing right before my eyes.”
“I thought being out here, so far from everything, would terrify me, or at the very least, compound my anxiety. But it hasn’t.” She twisted in his arms. “You knew it would be fine, didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t know. I hoped. Give it a week and I bet you’ll hardly recognize yourself.”
Rising up onto her tiptoes, she steadied herself by clasping his upper arms and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you. I thought I was unfixable, but I’m starting to think that maybe I can recover. I’m not going to lie. Everything that happened in Manhattan, and finding Bubsy like I did, it’s worrying. But I’m willing to just see what happens.”
“You’re not unfixable, Honor. From the moment I arrived, I saw a woman who’d been through an experience that thankfully few will ever suffer and who had a well of strength she wasn’t fully aware of. All you needed was some tough love. You will stumble a few times, but as long as you keep forging forward, life is there for the taking. It won’t be the same, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be fucking good.”
She squinted up at him. “Is your life good, Mack?”
His eyes dropped to her lips. “Can’t complain.”
She barely managed to catch her breath before he kissed her. His lips, soft and warm at first, soon grew insistent. Cupping her ass, he jerked her toward him. Hard. He was hard, everywhere. Arms, chest, abs.
Cock.
Especially his cock.
She ran her hands over him, over the ridges of muscle. Burrowed beneath his shirt, her fingertips exploring, taking without permission.
“I need—”
“Shh.”
Mack silenced her, his thumbs brushing up her sides, caressing the outer edge of her breasts. She trembled, a puddle in his hands, desire gathering deep in her belly, extending to her fingertips until the heat of the sun on her skin paled in comparison to the fire tearing through her insides.
He nipped her jawline, his teeth grazing her neck. She threw back her head, leaned into his solid arms, and let him support her. He wouldn’t allow her to fall. He’d said that at the foot of the tree house. She’d believed him then, and she knew it now. In Mack’s arms, she’d found the kind of safety and security that a woman with her past needed.
Falling. She felt it, sure as night followed day. Her mind screamed, Danger! Mack had made it clear this couldn’t be a long-term thing. Eventually, he’d leave, move on to his next job, another city, another woman, maybe. He’d made her no promises. In fact, he’d been brutally honest with her. All they had was right now, and she had to find a way to reconcile that with the bloom in her heart and the corresponding ache as she thought about the future. A future without Mack.
“You’re overthinking.”
She blinked, slowly emerging from the haze of desire. “What?”
“A man knows when a woman’s right there with him, in the moment. Wherever you were, it wasn’t here.” He kissed her forehead and released her. “Let’s get you posed again. Another hour and I should have broken the back of it.”
He picked up his pad, sat down, and rested it against his crossed leg. Pencil poised, he waited for her to retake her seat. She didn’t move.
“Want to quit?”
“No.”
“Want to tell me what you were thinking about?”
“Also no.”
“Then sit your fine arse down and let me finish. After that we’ll have lunch, then go for a swim. Take your mind off whatever’s eating you all of a sudden.”
“Isn’t it dangerous to swim on a full stomach?”
“Old wives’ tale.”
“Oh.”
His pencil swept over the paper, his eyes occasionally lifting to hers, the silence and the physical distance from Mack allowing her to ponder. She wasn’t falling for him. She didn’t believe in insta-love, and a couple weeks of knowing someone counted as “insta” in her book. Gratitude. That was what it was. Mack had shown her that she could have a life, that her abductor hadn’t stolen her future. And in her mixed-up brain, appreciation had disguised itself as love. She wanted him, she lusted after him. She did not love him.
“I’m done. You can stand now if you want, stretch your legs.”
She arched her back and rubbed her numb butt. “Show me.”
“I guess I’ll have to since you sat almost still and almost quiet for so long.”
He turned the pad toward her, and she gasped. “Is that how you see me?”
The picture Mack had drawn was of a woman far more beautiful than she. Her eyes were large, her nose straighter, her cheekbones like cut glass, her forehead smooth and wide. He’d added the dimple in her left cheek, even though she couldn’t recall smiling as he’d drawn her.
He flipped back a few pages. “I drew this from memory right after you took that first step outside your place in Manhattan. I wanted to capture the pride and shock on your face, and I think I got it pretty good.”
He showed her what he’d drawn, a drawing she’d been completely unaware of. “Oh my God. You did that? It’s… God, Mack, it’s incredible.”
“You didn’t go through it, then? When we found my pad in your wardrobe.”
She shook her head adamantly. “If I crept into your room and stole it, then I was completely unaware, and I definitely didn’t open it. I’d have remembered such an amazing drawing.”
Mack tore both pages from his book and handed them to her. “I want you to promise me that you’ll look at these drawings every day and see just how strong and amazing and resilient you are. The only person holding you back, Honor, is you.”
She took them gently, afraid she might smudge the lead. Hot tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she blinked them away. Happy tears, but tears nonetheless, and she’d cried enough.
“I hear you,” she whispered. “Loud and clear.”