Guard of Honor by Tracie Delaney
Chapter Three
The soundof a car pulling to a halt outside the front of her house sent Honor racing to the living room window. She peered through the blinds, always angled so that she could see out but no one could see in. Her pounding heart slowed as she recognized her father’s limousine idling at the curb. And then she frowned. He hadn’t mentioned coming by today when they’d spoken last night right before she’d turned in to bed. The clock that hung over the fireplace said it was only three thirty in the afternoon. Now that was strange. Her father always scheduled his visits in the evening, often stopping by on his way home from the office or on the weekends before he disappeared to play golf.
His driver opened the rear door, and her father climbed out. He glanced up at the house and then directly at the window where she was.
The other door opened. Honor peered closer.
Who the hell is that?
A large man, well over six feet tall, with dark hair and a densely muscled chest, stood there. He scanned the street, then scoped out her house. His attention fell on the window, and, on reflex, Honor jerked backward despite being hidden behind the blinds. She hadn’t seen him before; of that she was certain. She’d have definitely remembered. A presence such as his would surely sear into the memory of anyone he came into contact with. Papa said something to him, and the man nodded and briskly followed her father up the steps that led to her house.
What the hell is going on?
The front door opened, and then two sets of footsteps crossed her hall, one set light and evenly paced—her father’s—and the other heavy. The second set must be his. The stranger. Papa had insisted on having a key to her house after she’d refused to move in with him. That and the security team had been his two non-negotiables, and she hadn’t seen any harm in it, so she’d complied without argument. But today, for some reason, it irked her. This was her house, not his, and yet he thought it appropriate to march in with a stranger in tow.
“Honor.”
She remained silent. He’d find her soon enough. Moving away from the window, she primly perched on the edge of the chair closest to the fireplace, twisted her hands in her lap, and waited.
“There you are.” He appeared in the doorway to the living room and beamed a greeting as he strode over to her. Bending down, he kissed her forehead. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
“No,” she lied.
Her eyes went to him, the man dwarfing the room. Owning the room. Hard, indigo eyes, hair as black as the night, and a thick, neatly trimmed beard gave him an aura that sent an icy shiver through her bones. Goose bumps erupted down her spine. Outside, she’d thought him menacing enough. Inside… he… he scared the shit out of her. But mingled with her fear was an undeniable allure, an attraction so strangely magnetic that she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He stared right back at her.
“Who’s this?”
She congratulated herself for keeping the tremor out of her voice and forced her hands to remain still in her lap. Not an inconsiderable feat, given that her entire nervous system had launched into action, every nerve ending screaming for her to flee.
Calm down. He’s with Papa. That counts for something.
“This is Mr. McKenzie,” her father explained. “He’s an addition to your security detail.”
A shot of adrenaline fired into her bloodstream. More security? Why? Did her father know something she didn’t? Oh God, had he received another demand?
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and it felt as if all the blood had drained from her face. The room spun, and she squeezed her eyes closed, waiting for it to stop.
“Honor?”
Her father’s worried voice penetrated the fog in her brain, but she still couldn’t find her voice. Her breathing shallowed, and she took little sips of air. A set of warm hands landed on her knees, and forcing her eyes open, she met her father’s concerned gaze.
“It’s okay, Honor. Nothing’s wrong. Having a fourth member of the team gives us flexibility. That’s all.”
Air escaped her lungs in a whoosh. God, she really was losing it. She’d immediately imagined the worst and shot into rampant panic mode. When would it end? Who was she anymore?
A pair of huge, booted feet appeared in her sight line, and she peered up at the burly man standing before her, a man far removed from the likes of Jeremy, or William, or Brad. His smart jacket almost burst at the seams as he positioned his arms behind his back, the action showing off his broad chest and expansive shoulders.
“I’m Mack.”
He didn’t attempt to shake her hand, something she was grateful for. He’d probably break every bone.
“H-hello,” she stuttered, then cursed herself for showing weakness. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Nice to meet you.”
“Are you sure?” he queried, a tilt to his lips growing into a half smile. “You’re not giving that impression.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line. What an asshole.
“Forgive me, Mr. McKenzie,” she said, choosing to ignore his choice of moniker, “but my father failed to mention this unexpected visit ahead of time. I’m sure you can appreciate that I’m a little blindsided by your arrival.”
Papa had the good grace to appear marginally embarrassed, a faint blush stealing over his cheeks. “Sorry, sweet pea. I should have called ahead.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but found it impossible to stay mad at him for very long. Everything Papa did came from a place of love. Ever since her mother died, it had been just the two of them against the world, and she hated any kind of falling out.
She stood and kissed his cheek. “You’re forgiven, Papa.” Turning her attention to the new arrival, she eyeballed him without flinching. Not easy, given that he assessed her with an unwavering gaze that made her want to run and hide.
“Where are you from, Mr. McKenzie, because it’s certainly not from around here?”
“Scotland. It’s in the UK,” he added. “And please, call me Mack.”
She ground her teeth together. “I’m well aware of where Scotland is located, Mr. McKenzie. I’m not an idiot.”
His lips quirked for the second time, likely at both her snarky rebuttal and her refusal to call him by his preferred name. She was being belligerent with no real understanding of why. She wasn’t even this salty with Brad, and he irked her on a daily basis. Yet less than five minutes in the company of this foreigner, and she had so many feelings and emotions swirling within her that she didn’t know the name for half of them.
“No harm meant.”
“Well.” She smoothed her palms over her hips. “I have things to do.” She kissed her father again. “I’ll see you soon, Papa.”
She’d only taken three steps when her father called out to her.
“I thought Mack could take the room across from yours, if that’s okay.”
Honor froze on the spot, her spine stiffening. Slowly, she pivoted. “Why does he need a room? He’s not staying in my house. None of the others stay here.”
The members of her security team worked on rotation, and each one returned to his own home at the end of his eight-hour shift. She’d presumed the same here. Only Lizzie, her companion and housekeeper, lived in, and that was merely because she’d done the same when she’d worked for Papa. Three months ago, her father had decided it might be nice for Honor to have some female company, and Lizzie had been the obvious choice. She’d worked for the family for almost three years, and at twenty-one, she was the closest in age to Honor compared to the other members of her father’s household team.
Lizzie living here was one thing. She liked Lizzie. They had things in common. Music, books, a shared love of Broadway. But the idea of having this frightening—and stunning—creature sleeping right across the hall stirred up a maelstrom of feelings that Honor didn’t have the first idea how to deal with.
“Mr. McKenzie and I both agree it makes sense to have him live in rather than stay at a hotel. It’s fine for the others. They have homes to go to. Given that he might be here for a while, you wouldn’t want him staying in a cramped hotel room, would you?”
A flash of irritation fired up her blood, and she planted her hands on her hips. “Oh, is that right? You and Mr. McKenzie had a nice discussion behind my back, yes?” Her voice was drenched with sarcasm. “Well, thank you so much for asking for my opinion on who lives in my house.”
The skin bunched around Papa’s eyes as he winced, and guilt hit Honor hard. Her father was only trying to do his best. To make her feel as safe as possible, even if his efforts so far had been futile. It wasn’t fair to rail on him because the alluring stranger had dredged up feelings of attraction that Honor wasn’t ready to acknowledge on any deep—or shallow—level.
She scrubbed a hand across her face. “I’m sorry, Papa. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. It’s fine. The house is big enough for Mr. McKenzie’s presence not to become too onerous.” She smiled sweetly in his direction. “Do you agree?”
Those damn lips of his lifted on one side for the third time, but he stubbornly remained silent, refusing to answer her question, which she took to mean that, no, he didn’t agree. Expelling an exasperated breath, she stalked from the living room, leaving her father and her new guard behind. Once outside, she hovered, interested in their conversation now that they’d presume she was no longer within earshot.
“Sorry about that,” Papa said, his apology irking her. “It’s been a very tough time for her, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“It’s not a problem.” Mack’s baritone almost shook the walls. “I can take it from here. It’s better if we’re given some space. We’ll find a way to rub along in the end.”
Honor suppressed a snort at his overoptimistic, and thoroughly without basis, comment.
“Besides, I’ve faced far tougher opponents,” Mack added with a short laugh.
“I don’t doubt it.” She heard the smile in her father’s voice. He paused, then said, “Shall I go find William and introduce you?”
“It’s all good,” Mack replied. “I can introduce myself.”
“If you’re sure. I’m always a phone call away if you need anything.”
“I appreciate that, sir.”
Honor shrank back as she heard her father move. And then the footsteps stopped, and so did she.
“Loris is a good friend of mine, Mack, and if he says that you’re the man to help my daughter, then I believe him. Don’t let me down.”
Honor’s pulse jumped, and her heart began to race. Thud, thud, thud. Her instincts had told her something was off, that the stranger’s arrival, so out of the blue, appeared odd. And now she had proof.
Why would a bodyguard be expected to help me as opposed to simply guard me?
And who the hell is Loris?