Her Man in Manhattan (10 page)

She wasn’t trying to make anyone look bad. How could he not know that by now?

When the light changed and the last of the pedestrians on the crossing parted to make space for them to move forwards he surmised, ‘You didn’t think of it that way.’

‘I suppose that makes me selfish?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think it’s selfish to want time to yourself—I get that’s what you were doing now. What I don’t get is the reason you’ve stuck it out for so long if you don’t enjoy it.’

Not true. ‘There are parts of it I enjoy—meeting people, going places, supporting worthwhile causes.’

‘So why not find a job that involves those things without the same restrictions?’

‘I intend to. But I made a promise to my brother.’

She blinked. Had she just said that out loud?

‘What kind of promise?’

That would be a yes, then. Briefly hiding behind the hand pretending to brush her hair into place, she checked to see how she felt about telling him. On a gut level it didn’t feel wrong but there was a limit to how much she could say without delving into her family history. ‘After abandoning him five days a week while I was at NYU I said I’d make sure he didn’t have to smile for the cameras until the next election—he’s due home the week before to help with the run-in. Win or lose, the plan was we’d make a stand together when he finished college.’

‘What changed?’

‘I did,’ she answered truthfully before lowering her chin. ‘I’ve never told anyone that. About the promise to my brother, I mean.’

‘What about Crystal?’

‘She wouldn’t get it.’

‘So why tell me?’

‘Because I think you do.’ Miranda lifted her chin and looked into his eyes as the traffic slowed. ‘Like I said not so long ago—no one speaks to me the way you do. Maybe I needed someone to be frank with me so I could learn how to do the same in return.’

‘If brutal honesty is what you need you’re never gonna have to worry you won’t get it from me.’

As much as it ruffled her feathers—particularly when he said something she didn’t want to hear—she liked that about him. It was refreshing. ‘You’re never gonna let me win an argument for the sake of keeping the peace either, are you?’

‘Nope,’ he answered succinctly as he focused on the road ahead. ‘And don’t ever take me on in a sport unless you plan on losing.’

It was too good an opportunity to miss. ‘Is there anything you’re
not
good at?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ he drawled.

When he turned his head the smile he flashed was so completely unexpected it stunned Miranda into silence. Enraptured by the sight she stared at the immediate change it brought to his face. His eyes were suddenly dozens of different shades of blue, the lines at the corners of his dense lashes deepening to give the impression there’d been a time in his life when he’d laughed often and loud. Added to the flash of pearly whites beneath the adorably crooked line of his lips, he wasn’t just handsome.

He was irresistible.

Miranda felt her body and heart sway towards him with the same impulse as a flower turning its petals to the sun. She was smiling back at him before she realized she was doing it, her chest expanding with warmth.

But like all good things the moment didn’t last.

When the SUV moved forwards again she decided it was probably just as well. She couldn’t get more attached to him than she already was. So long as everything they did was treated as nothing more than foreplay she’d be fine.

Until she’d lived a little, explored some and quelled the doubts she had about her capability to do something worthwhile with her life, she couldn’t so much as
think
about making a commitment to someone else.

Tyler Brannigan was a commitment kind of guy; twelve years on the job would have told her that even if he hadn’t made the comment about wearing a wedding ring. From that point of view she was glad there wasn’t any chance
he
would get more attached to
her.

She just wished she knew why it made her feel so sad.

SEVENTEEN

A life that involved posing on a red carpet wasn’t one Tyler could ever see himself living. Considering the number of flashing cameras, it was a miracle she hadn’t gone blind.

Posting up a few feet away from the spotlight, he watched her at work with a newfound respect. She seemed to know exactly where each lens was pointed; how to stand to display her stunning figure to its best advantage—though in fairness some folks were probably looking at her clothes—and throughout the test of endurance her smile never faded.

She was a pro. If she ended up supporting worthwhile causes when she had her freedom, they would be lucky to have her. The thought of her putting as much passion into her work as she did when she kissed him...

Well, suffice to say the world had better watch out.

When they stepped inside the movie theatre to make way for the Hollywood stars she was equally adept at working the room. Some of the people she talked to he recognized, some he didn’t, but she knew each and every one by name and managed to slip in several mayoral sound bites inside ten minutes. Since it was more than apparent he wasn’t the only bodyguard present—some of them standing out like pro-wrestlers in a ballet class—he allowed her a little more space and stepped over to the counter nearby.

Her eyes sparkled when he returned. ‘What is that?’

‘Can’t watch a movie without popcorn,’ he reasoned.

‘And a bucket of soda, apparently.’ She smiled as they lined up to take their seats. ‘You bought diet, right?’

‘Not in this lifetime.’

Reaching out, she snagged a kernel of popcorn and popped it in her mouth.

‘Did I say I’d bought it to share?’

She smiled brightly as she chewed.

It set the tone for the following hour and a handful of minutes. In the darkness of the auditorium, with numerous brushes of their fingertips in the search for popcorn, some of the tension seemed to ease from his body. He might have left the theatre feeling pretty relaxed if it hadn’t been for the sex scene in the movie.

As the tension rose onscreen it seemed to coil around them. His senses became sharper and clearer. The seductive scent of her perfume, the contact of their elbows on the armrest between them, the saltiness on his lips he knew he would taste on hers when they kissed.

When his little finger brushed rhythmically into one of the groves between finer-boned fingers he glanced sideways and saw her press her knees together. His gaze lifted to the dark pools of her eyes; the thought her body was preparing for him immediately making his do the same in return. For a moment it felt as if they were the only people there. Then something was said onscreen that made the audience laugh, snapping him out of it and allowing him time to gather what was left of his senses before the credits rolled. But reminding himself of all the reasons he couldn’t have her wasn’t working. If anything it made the need for mutual release seem as vital as his next breath.

She tugged his sleeve to get his attention when they reached the foyer. ‘Last time I was here, Mac thought it was quicker to use the side exit than wade through the mob out front.’

Tyler didn’t argue, but when the door opened there were almost as many people in the side street as there had been out front. The barricades were human—a line of uniformed police officers, some of them with outstretched arms, some as interested in who came out of the door as the crowd.

When Miranda appeared people started calling her name.

‘I don’t like this,’ Tyler said tightly.

‘It’s fine,’ she reassured him before pinning a smile in place and stepping forwards. ‘Hi, how are you? Yes, it was great, you should go see it.’

While she worked her way down the line every instinct Tyler possessed screamed at him to get her out of there. He glared at one of the uniforms, tempted to get his badge number and report him for not doing his damn job.

As the door opened and a well-known talk-show host stepped outside the crowd yelled louder and moved forwards in a rolling wave that could barely be contained. His gaze immediately darted to Miranda. She’d got a couple of steps ahead and had her back to him. As he moved closer he saw her elbow move in a way that suggested whoever was holding on to her hand wasn’t keen to let go. The minute he saw who it was Tyler grabbed the man’s arm.

‘Back off,’ he warned.

‘It’s okay,’ Miranda’s voice said. ‘I’ve got this.’

‘I said,
back off.
’

The dark-haired man grimaced behind his glasses but didn’t let go. When he raised his other arm and tried to put it around her waist Tyler’s most basic instincts kicked in. Nudging her to the side to make room, he grasped fistfuls of sweatshirt and shoved the guy away from her.

‘What are you
doing?
’ he heard her say a split second before one the Hollywood stars appeared.

Suddenly the crowd was screaming and surging forwards. The guy he was holding stumbled backwards—was torn from his grasp—and Tyler was surrounded. Whirling around, he searched frantically for Miranda while his muscles clenched with the adrenaline-fuelled need to protect her. When he got a glimpse of her hair a second before her head dropped out of sight the thought of her being crushed almost made him lose his mind.

‘Get out of the way!’
he roared, shoving bodies aside until he could see her on the ground trying to get to her feet. Dropping down onto his haunches, he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. ‘You okay?’

She looked up at him and nodded, her eyes glittering with fear. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied.

Tyler pressed his forehead against hers for a moment, relief surging through his body. ‘Let’s go.’

Helping her upright, he took one of her hands in a firm grasp, his pace not slowing until he’d dragged her across Times Square and into the underground parking of the Hyatt. When they got close to the Escalade he turned around and hauled her into his arms. But instead of holding on to him, she struggled free and took a step back.

‘Have you lost your mind?’

Tyler frowned. ‘He wouldn’t let go of you.’

‘I was handling it.’

‘It didn’t
look
like you were.’

‘You’re putting me more on edge than those stupid letters,’ she said with exasperation. ‘How am I supposed to act normally if every time we go somewhere you freak out like I’m about to be kidnapped?’

‘I suppose I should just stand there and let you get sucked into the crowd or
crushed.
’

She frowned back at him. ‘What you should do is what everyone else who has surrounded me for the last eight years never learned to do—
ask me
if I’m okay.’

For the first time since he’d realized who she was talking to in the crowd Tyler stopped to think. Telling her it was the same guy he’d seen outside the school wouldn’t help. He couldn’t confess how uncharacteristically scared he’d been when he thought she might be hurt or how relieved he was when she wasn’t, either.

So where did that leave him?

‘You’re right,’ he admitted flatly, partly because she was but mostly because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

The admission took the wind out of her sails. ‘Thank you.’ She searched his eyes. ‘Now do you want to tell me what happened back there?’ When he didn’t reply she took a short breath. ‘Tyler, I’m trying to make an effort to communicate with you but you’re gonna have to help me out here. I can’t do it alone.’

He popped his jaw and tried to meet her halfway. ‘Maybe I’m having a problem with the crowds.’

‘Why?’

‘Too many people.’

‘We live in New York—it comes with the territory.’ Her expression softened, the warmth of understanding in her eyes making him feel about two feet tall. ‘It’s because everywhere you look you’re seeing potential dangers, isn’t it?’ She smiled. ‘You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?’

Tyler ground his teeth together. He’d liked it better when they were arguing.

‘When I’m not appearing at public engagements I barely merit a second look.’

He very much doubted that. The night they met he would have picked her out of the crowd without any difficulty.

Stepping forwards, she took his hands and tangled their fingers together. ‘I’ll prove it to you.’

‘How exactly are you gonna do that?’

‘You have to trust me.’ She lifted their arms out to the sides and briefly rolled her gaze towards the concrete ceiling. ‘And possibly veer off the schedule a little bit...’

He didn’t like where the conversation was headed any better than he liked the sensation he was being managed. ‘Where are we going?’

‘For a walk,’ she replied with the same impossibly soft smile he’d seen her use on a small child.

‘Not in Times Square, we’re not.’

‘I was thinking more along the lines of Carl Schurz Park.’ Rocking forwards, she lifted her chin, her voice taking on the liquid cadence he’d been able to resist not so long ago. ‘Seems to me we could both use the break...’

‘Why there?’ he asked while weighing up the pros and cons in his mind to distract his body from accepting the invitation she’d issued to kiss and make up.

‘Because I’ve never got to see much of it beyond the view from my bedroom window. You can help me change that...’

Tyler finished the sentence for her when he realized what she was doing. ‘And it’s close enough to the mansion to set my mind at ease if you get mobbed.’

‘I won’t get mobbed,’ she promised. ‘You’ll see.’

He’d been right; he
was
being managed. But while it was laced with thoughtfulness and a shared need to escape...

Flexing his fingers around hers, he lowered their arms to their sides and warned her, ‘If I’m being played again, there’ll be consequences.’

Just because it felt to him as if their relationship had changed didn’t mean she felt the same way. He’d fallen into
that
trap before.

She fluttered her eyelashes. ‘You promise?’

EIGHTEEN

As they walked side by side along paths that twisted and turned through theatrical staircases Miranda tried to enjoy the surroundings. It probably looked like Narnia in the winter with a blanket of snow on the ground, especially when the paths were lit by old-fashioned lamp posts. But even with her hand held in a reassuringly strong grip as soon as they were out of sight of the mansion, she couldn’t relax. The incident outside the movie theatre had shaken her more than she cared to admit.

It magnified the sensation she should hold on to him but when she questioned if it was more than the natural reaction to a second reminder of the frailty of her body in comparison to his strength, she wasn’t certain she wanted to know the answer.

They eventually got to the boardwalk where even with the FDR driveway beneath their feet it was easy to forget they were in the city. In silent agreement they headed to the railing. Sharing a few quiet moments of nothing—something she suspected was a rarity for them both—she smiled at the view. The thousands of square and rectangular windows lit up on the buildings across the river, the stars and moon above, the draped twinkling lights of the Fifty-ninth Street Bridge reflected in the moving water below.

It was magical.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in and caught a hint of the sweet scent of pipe smoke coming from some of the old men sitting on a bench to watch the last boats go by. Then—as if someone felt the need to add another layer of fairy dust—a harmonica started playing.

Opening her eyes, she tugged on Tyler’s hand to draw him away from the railing. ‘Dance with me.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t dance.’

‘Didn’t anyone ever tell you that everyone should dance a little every day?’

‘I don’t sing into a hairbrush in front of the mirror, either,’ he replied dryly as he allowed her to pull him into the centre of the boardwalk.

‘How about laughing—you ever try that one?’

As they stilled he looked into her eyes and confessed, ‘It’s been a while.’

The returning hint of hollowness to his voice made her heart ache. Whatever had happened to him—the thing that made him so angry—wasn’t something she could fix. But she could make an attempt at helping him put it to the back of his mind for a while.

‘One arm goes around my waist like this...’ Stepping forwards she moved the hand she was holding behind her back and released it. ‘You hold this hand... I place this one on your shoulder...and we sway...’

She could feel the resistance in his body as she started to move. ‘Don’t think about it. Listen to the music—let it wash over you—and move your weight from one foot to the other.’ When she felt him start to move with her a smile blossomed on her lips. ‘It’s like the ebb and flow of the tide. You’re just a leaf in the wind...’ When he lifted his chin her smile grew. ‘The leaf was too much, wasn’t it?’

‘You could enjoy this a little less...’

She chuckled softly. ‘I don’t think that’s possible.’

As they slowly turned in a circle she revelled in the luxury of being close to him and openly studied his face. Despite the times it felt as if she knew him better than she possibly could in such a short space of time there were others—like now—when she found him impossible to read. What was he thinking? Did the closeness feel as good for him as it did for her? Did he want her as much as she wanted him?

While he looked at her in a way that made it feel as if he could see her soul and held her with a gentleness that belied his strength it didn’t feel wrong to trust him with her body. But before she did she wanted
him
to trust
her
and she wasn’t certain he did yet.

Swiping the tip of her tongue over her lips, she took a short breath and decided to broach what she suspected was a difficult subject. ‘If I talk to you about something you have to promise you won’t freak out.’

‘Meaning it’s something I’m not gonna like.’

She searched his eyes before continuing. ‘I think you know you can’t go around intimidating people.’

‘Not much call for good guys in the world I inhabit.’

Meaning he thought he wasn’t one or he’d had to change to survive? She could have pointed out bad guys didn’t come to a girl’s rescue, share popcorn at the movies or dance with her in the moonlight, but instead she said, ‘I’d have thought there was even more call for them there. At times lowering to the level of the people you deal with probably seems like the only way you can make them understand you—it’s dog-eat-dog, right?—but—’

‘It’s not how the people in your world behave.’

‘You make it sound like we live on different planets.’

‘To all intents and purposes we do.’

She shook her head. ‘I can’t begin to imagine some of the things you’ve seen.’

‘You’re not supposed to. It’s why there are people like me doing the job we do. We’re buffers.’

‘Even soldiers in a war zone take the occasional break from the front line. When’s the last time you did that?’

He frowned. ‘That’s been a while, too.’

Having spent more than enough time around people in high pressured jobs to recognize stress when she saw it, she’d thought it might be part of the problem.

‘Taking time for yourself—spending it with the people you love and dancing every now and again—wouldn’t that remind you of what you’re fighting for?’ When some of the tension returned to his body she sought a way to make him understand what she was doing stemmed from the fact she cared, even if it was more than she should. ‘Haven’t you ever had someone in your life you looked forwards to seeing—who made everything you did and all the sacrifices you make worthwhile? You can’t have gone this long without meeting someone like that. Everyone has a one who got away, right?’

The fist of jealousy that gripped her stomach made her hope the answer was no.

‘Yes,’ he replied.

Not that she wanted to know details but, ‘Was your job part of the problem?’

‘We both worked long hours.’

‘What happened?’

‘She married someone else.’

The information made her look at him with new eyes. Had his heart been broken? She wondered what kind of woman he’d fallen for and came to the conclusion she must have been pretty amazing. It left her with the sensation she had a lot to live up to—something her insecurities would play on if she let them. But if the woman had been dumb enough to let him go she couldn’t have been
that
great. ‘Was that when your work started taking over your life?’ she asked.

‘We’re back to the subject of finding a balance.’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s not always easy.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’

When he stilled she realized the music had stopped and turned to smile at the musician as he saluted them with his harmonica before walking away.

Tyler removed his arm from her waist and lowered their hands. As he led her back into the park he took a long breath and exhaled before asking, ‘How did you know?’

‘About the discrepancy in your work-life balance?’

‘That I wouldn’t hurt you that night in the alley...’

Miranda answered honestly. ‘I just did. It was a gut-instinct thing. When something feels right it feels right.’

‘You place that kind of faith in everyone?’

She arched a brow at him. ‘After spending a quarter of my life surrounded by people who are never themselves around me— who laugh even when my jokes aren’t funny or pretend to be my friend just so they can say they know me?’

‘I’ll take that as a no.’

Miranda stopped and turned towards him. ‘Wait a minute. Are you telling me you
didn’t
know?’

‘No one knows what they’re capable of till they’re pushed,’ he said flatly.

‘Something pushed you before me, didn’t it?’

The shadows between arcs of lamplight illuminating the path seemed to close in around him. ‘Yes.’

Despite the dark tone to his deep voice her feet took a step forwards, her hand reaching out to the tense line of his jaw. When a muscle clenched beneath her fingers she wanted to reassure him nothing he said would change how she saw him—that when a person had the kind of faith she had in him it wasn’t just for a minute or a day. She wanted to tell him that she thought he was strong enough to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders but he didn’t have to. Not alone. But when it came down to it all she could manage was his name.
‘Tyler—’

‘Don’t.’ A large hand covered hers and removed it from his face. ‘We can’t do that here.’

The rejection stung but somehow Miranda managed to rise above it and seek a rational explanation when she knew he wasn’t immune to her touch. ‘Has there been a noticeable rush of people who have recognized me? Why do you think so many famous people choose to live in New York?’

‘You’ve made your point,’ he replied. ‘And I’m open to the idea of allowing more off-schedule walks to let you take a break. But we’re still not doing that here.’

Frowning a little at the intimation she still needed permission to do what she wanted, she laid her palm on his chest, sidled up to him and cut her inner siren loose. ‘Then take me somewhere we can be alone...and
get naked...
’

From her perspective, the sooner they started playing out a few of her fantasies, the better she’d feel.

‘Not gonna happen.’ Suddenly he was standing taller and straighter, his voice edged with fierce determination. ‘I’m not interested in helping you stick a middle finger at your parents before you leave the family business.’

It was the closest she’d ever been to experiencing a slap in the face.