Guard of Honor by Tracie Delaney
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Thirteen months later
Mack joggedup the concrete steps, emerging from the underground at Covent Garden station. Twilight had fallen during the train ride into the city. He checked his watch. Nine fifteen. Plenty of time.
He crossed the road and only narrowly missed getting run over by a taxi whose driver shot through a red light at the pedestrian crossing. Bastard had the gall to honk his horn, too. Mack gave him the finger, then caught the eye of a white-haired little old lady who cackled with laughter. Mack fired a grin and a wink back at her.
The narrow roads were crammed with tourists, and that was before the theaters emptied out. Once the actors took their final curtain calls, there’d be at least double the number of people swarming the streets. He hated city life. The pace of it, the struggle for fresh air, the sheer number of humans taking up every square inch of space, the concrete buildings, and the noise. God, the relentless noise.
But it was all worth it for a glimpse of her.
He narrowly missed knocking over a gang of giggling girls on a night out as they spilled from a bar. Skipping out of their way, he continued down the street, ignoring their drunken catcalls and whistles.
The cream-and-navy-blue façade of the Theatre Royal Drury Lane came into view. Mack’s attention was drawn to the huge sign hanging above the entranceway, which advertised the current play that the theater had on. His eyes traveled to a smaller poster with a yellow banner stuck diagonally across. Sold out.
He wasn’t surprised. The Fallout was the newest hit to take London’s West End by storm. A sleeper, they called it. Tonight was the official opening night, but it was already sold out for the next month on the basis of previews alone. He edged closer to the front doors and read the cast and crew credits at the bottom of the poster. Pride burst out of his chest at the name beside the position of director. Honor Reid.
He’d known she’d make it. Hadn’t had a doubt in his mind. She had the grit and determination to succeed in a crowded market, and clearly the talent, too. More than a year had passed since he’d left her behind in New York, and while he’d kept an eye on her career, they hadn’t stayed in touch. He’d told her before he left that if she wanted him by her side at Lizzie’s trial, she only had to ask. In the end, the trial had been delayed for psych evaluations. So far, the courts hadn’t assigned a new date.
But even when the year marker passed, she hadn’t called. Every day he longed for her. Sometimes he wondered if he should’ve been more selfish and stuck around, knowing his presence would’ve clipped her wings and prevented her from fully reclaiming her independence, but then he’d think, No. His decision, one he’d made for the both of them, had been right, even if it did mean he lost the woman he loved. Honor’s happiness and fulfillment were all that mattered, and if she got there without needing him, then that was as it was meant to be.
Hurt like a motherfucker, but life was hardly one continuous party.
He took up position across from the theater where he had a view of the stage door and waited. The already packed streets swelled as punters spilled out of the theater. Mack cocked his ears and listened to the enthusiastic praise for the show. A smile etched across his face. Opening night must be a killer for those involved in creating the show. All the waiting and hoping that the hard work paid off and people enjoyed the performance.
Another thirty minutes passed before the stage door opened. He straightened, his eyes leveled directly ahead. Several people appeared, none of whom were Honor. Fifteen more minutes scratched by and still no sign. Maybe there was another exit and she’d slipped out that one. He cursed his bad luck and crammed down his disappointment. There was always tomorrow night. The show was scheduled for a month-long run, but he only had a week before he had to be on a plane to France for his next assignment. It was a short stint, only six weeks, but by the time he returned to England, Honor’s show would have moved on, and he’d lose his chance to see her.
The door creaked again, and then she was there. His throat tightened, his lungs flattening as he set eyes on the woman he loved for the first time in over a year. She wore her flame-red hair a few inches longer, and it fell in waves over her shoulders. Her makeup was light, and she was dressed casually in jeans and a white fitted shirt. But it was the way she smiled that got to him the most. Carefree, happy, at peace with herself.
She’d made it—without him. And it was exactly as it should be. But if that were true, then why did his insides feel as if they were on fire? Why couldn’t he take a full breath, and why was his heart breaking all over again?
A bodyguard walked a step behind her. So she did still have security. Unsurprising, he guessed, after all she’d been through. Whether she and her father were still estranged was a moot point. She’d always be Alan Reid’s daughter and, as such, a potential target for opportunists.
He drank her in, memorizing every detail, locking it away in his mind, where it would stay, only to be set free when he couldn’t breathe without letting her fill his thoughts.
“Honor.”
For one horrifying moment, he thought he’d called her name, but she glanced behind her as a guy appeared. Mack couldn’t hear their conversation from across the street, but his fucking eyes worked just fine. He saw it all. The hug, the warm kiss, the soft, caring smile.
Of course she’d found someone else. A woman like Honor wouldn’t be alone for long.
He turned away, dragging his feet and trying to keep the fragmented pieces of his heart from piercing any other vital organs. He was such a dick. On some level, one he’d allocated far too much hope to, he’d envisaged their eyes meeting across the street and her sprinting toward him and throwing herself into his arms.
Instead, she’d chosen the arms of another.
* * *
“Honor.”
Honor twisted as Barney, her assistant director, appeared. She smiled and gave him another hug and a kiss. They’d shared several ever since the curtain dropped to a standing ovation, and she’d bet they’d share several more before the week was out. “We did it, Barns. We fucking did it.”
“No, you did it, sweets. You’re a genius. Listen, me and a few of the crew are heading out for a drink to celebrate. You’ll come, won’t you?”
“Think I’ll pass.” She yawned. “I’m exhausted.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow when we get to do this all over again.”
He grinned. “I can’t wait.”
She turned away. Her eyes caught something across the street. She froze. It couldn’t be. Was it? She peered closer. Oh God, it was. Her stomach somersaulted, and her heart began to race, hammering against her rib cage.
“Hold on right there, Aiden Jack McKenzie.”
Mack skidded to a halt. He kept his back to her.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she called out.
He slowly pivoted, his eyes meeting hers. “Hey, Red.”
She jogged over to him, fisted hands going to her hips. “Were you really going to leave without saying hello?”
“I thought you were busy.”
She frowned. “Busy doing what?”
Mack jerked his chin toward the theater. “Him.”
She followed Mack’s gaze to where Barney and a few of the others were strolling away from the theater, jostling and laughing with each other. She laughed. Mack was jealous. That had to be a good sign, right?
“One, I have the wrong equipment to attract him, and two, you think you can turn up here after dumping me thirteen months ago and throw down a fit of jealousy?”
He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “I never dumped you. I told you to take a year and call me if you still felt the same.” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Guess I have the answer to that one.”
“Same old Mack. You think you have all the answers, but you don’t.”
“Then why didn’t you call?”
She slipped her arm through his. “Let’s go grab a coffee.”
“Okay.”
They strolled down the street with Robert, her bodyguard, shadowing every step. After twenty seconds, Mack stopped.
“I think I can protect you, Red.”
She arched a brow. “Maybe it’s you I need protection from.”
The quirk to her lips brought a smile to his. “Not sure that’s true, given you’ve got my balls in a vise.”
She leaned forward and touched her head to his shoulder. “Let’s get that coffee and we can talk. Robert, you’re off the clock. Mack will see me home.”
“If you’re sure, Miss Reid.”
“She’s sure,” Mack growled, slinging an arm around her shoulders.
Honor picked a small coffeehouse about a five-minute walk from the theater, down a narrow alleyway. It still had seats available. Surprising given that the shows had only just tipped out. They found a table in a dark corner, and Mack went up to the counter to order. He returned with two coffees in oversized cups and set them down, spilling a little into the saucers.
Honor bent forward, blew on the coffee, and slurped to make a bit of space in the cup. “How did you know I was here?”
“I told you I’d watch with interest as you conquered the world.”
She chuckled. “Hardly. But, yeah, this is a big deal for me. If it does well here and gets picked up on Broadway, that would make my career.”
“The audience loved it. I eavesdropped on them as they filed out of the theater.”
She pressed her hands together. “Here’s hoping the critics feel the same.”
“Think positive, Red.”
She grinned. “I’ve missed your pep talks.”
The softness in his eyes tore her up inside. She hadn’t only missed his pep talks. She’d missed him. Amazing, wonderful, hard outer, marshmallow center, him.
“Have you made up with your father?”
She picked up a spoon and pointlessly stirred her coffee. “We’re working on it. I’m not sure things will ever go back to the way they were, but he’s still my father.”
“And what about Lizzie?”
“I don’t know.” She smoothed an eyebrow. “They delayed her trial.”
“I heard.”
“It’s all such a mess.” She sighed. “I’ve missed you, Mack. How’ve you been?”
“On fucking pins waiting for you to call. Why didn’t you?”
“I’ve missed your directness, too.” She smiled. “I planned to call as soon as I’d gotten the play up and running. I wanted to prove to you that I was strong and capable, that I’d succeeded in life and in my career. I wanted to come back to you a winner. It took me a bit longer than I’d planned.” She reached for his hand. “There were so many times during the last year that I almost picked up the phone, but then I’d think about how I told you I loved you and you never said it back, and the thought of rejection grew and festered, and I’d lose my nerve.”
Mack stared at her, his full lips parted in surprise, or maybe incredulity.
“You crazy fucking woman,” he declared. “You were always a winner in my eyes. I never told you that I loved you in New York because the timing was all wrong, but I’m telling you now. I fucking love you. This last year has been horrendous. I missed you every single day, and there were so many times I almost broke. But in here”—he pounded a fist over his heart—“I knew I had to let you be. Let you grow. Let you rediscover yourself as you are now, not as you were before or in the time after your abduction. And when that year came and went without a word from you, I accepted that I’d lost you. I came here tonight to see you one last time and say my goodbyes.”
“You love me?” she whispered. “You really love me?”
“Yeah.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “The question is, Red, do you still love me?”
“Oh, Mack.”
She scrambled to her feet. The table wobbled, and coffee spilled into her saucer. She plunked herself right in his lap, planted her hands on his cheeks, and kissed him.
“Does that answer your question? Yes, I love you. I love you, love you, love you.” She frowned. “If I hadn’t spotted you across the street, would you really have left without saying a word?”
“Yes. The power was all yours, Red. It had to be yours. But I’d have waited a lifetime for you, and the second you called, I’d have come running.”
“But your job, and mine. We’re still on different tracks.”
She lowered her head. He clipped her under the chin.
“We’ll make it work, Red. I promise. Now fucking kiss me again.”
She did as he asked, her lips rediscovering his. God, she’d missed him, missed this.
He withdrew, his eyes searching hers. “Can I walk you home?”
“Only if you promise to take me to bed when we get there.”
He grinned. “Tough gig, but someone’s gotta do it.”
* * *
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