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Authors: Trish Wylie

Tags: #Romance

Her Man in Manhattan (15 page)

BOOK: Her Man in Manhattan
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She headed for the door.

‘Miranda,
stop.
’ The forceful edge to his rough voice froze her feet to the ground. ‘Don’t run away this time.’

Pinning a bright smile in place, she turned around to give the performance of a lifetime. ‘If I was running away I’d take my bag. It’s Gucci.’

Tyler frowned and angled his head a little to study her from the corner of his eye. ‘Are you still mad at me for the handcuffs?’

‘You did what you felt you had to do.’ She shrugged. ‘I’d probably have done the same thing in your shoes.’

He opened his mouth, sucked in a breath and hesitated. It wasn’t like him but in the blink of an eye he recovered, his voice laced with determination. ‘We need to talk.’

‘Now?’ she asked with as innocent an expression as she could muster. ‘I thought you wanted to leave?’

‘You rearranged your schedule to be here, right?’

‘Grace did.’

‘How much time did she get you?’

‘I’m visiting veterans after lunch.’

‘What about tonight?’

Since she wasn’t convinced prolonging the agony would make it feel any better Miranda lied. ‘I’m pretty solidly booked for the next few weeks. We could meet up for coffee after the election if you like. You have my number.’

‘Still trying to cut me loose, aren’t you?’

‘You’re not my bodyguard any more.’

‘So that’s it. There’s nothing you want to say to me.’

‘Of course there is.’ She sighed, struggling to keep up the pretence. ‘You’ve watched over me all this time, put up with
a lot
and I’ve enjoyed our time together. I can never begin to repay you for—’

Tyler shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t have left the keys with Grace. That was a mistake. Go find the damn doctor so I can blow this joint. But if you think we’re done here you can forget it.’ He pushed to his feet. ‘Just be thankful I’m not in any shape to toss you over my shoulder again.’

She blinked. ‘I don’t get why you’re angry.’

‘Well, when you figure it out let me know.’

When he turned and started an argument with the zipper on the sports bag, Miranda took a step forwards. ‘Tyler—’

He lifted the bag and marched past her. ‘I’m going to sign the paperwork.’

The silence in the car on the journey to his apartment was deafening. He left with a curt ‘thanks’ and not so much as a sideways glance at her. It was awful. She’d never felt worse—empty and alone and facing an endlessly long Tyler-less future. It was over. He was gone.

Miranda would never know how she kept her facade in place for the rest of the scheduled itinerary. But at the end of an interminably long day it took its toll.

She dropped onto the edge of her bed, deflating like a balloon losing air. When the tears came she didn’t stop them. There was nothing remotely dainty or feminine about it when the floodgates opened, either. When she lay down on the covers heaving sobs racked her body until her face was mottled and her eyes were red and swollen. Later, when she hauled herself upright and made it under a hot shower, she turned the water on to high and cried some more while its warmth did nothing to remove the chill from her body.

It was late when she was reduced to sniffling into her pillow. Staring into the darkness, she started to think things through. She thought about the first time he took her hand; how big a pain in the ass he’d been when he blocked her escape attempts; how he’d been the first person to be brutally honest with her; how the most dangerous man she’d ever met could make her feel safe and protected. Then she thought about the night in the alley, the shudder that ran through his body when he held her, how he resisted the kiss but wrestled control from her. From that point of view he’d always had the upper hand. When he kissed her nothing else mattered but kissing him back. At least it hadn’t until her heart got involved.

Then something happened. Somewhere in the middle of her sentimental journey to revisit each landmark in their relationship a spark of hope ignited, the flame flickering defiantly in the midst of her doubt she could ever be enough for him.

‘I want you to stay away from me,’
she’d lied.

‘You don’t want that any more than I do,’
he’d replied.

Her heart tripped and picked up speed.

Unless he was trying to push her away Tyler didn’t say things he didn’t mean. But what if he’d been saying more than she’d heard? What if she’d been so wrapped up in how she felt—
for a change—
she’d missed how he felt?

She hadn’t gone looking for it until she needed it to be there, but once she did...

‘I’m supposed to keep my distance,’
he’d said. But he couldn’t do that any more than she could.

Surely that meant something—what if he felt the same draw to her that she felt to him?

He’d said when she had questions,
‘You might want to make one of them why I kissed you the way I did...’

What if everything she’d felt in that kiss hadn’t come from her? She’d felt lost but he’d found her. She’d been hopeful but he’d lost hope. He’d said he was beyond saving. Did he really believe that—what if he thought
she
couldn’t love
him
the way
he was?
He’d told her if he had a choice things would be different.
‘Don’t forget that.’

Why had she forgotten that?

Even with her confidence battered by waves of fear and self-doubt the flame of hope continued to burn. The truth was she was more frightened of losing him than taking a leap of faith for the man she believed in more than she believed in herself. She’d thought he couldn’t love her but if one day he
could...

‘When you figure it out let me know.’

Heart pounding rapidly, she jumped off the bed, grabbed the essentials and ran downstairs. Nothing on earth would stop her from going to him. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life wondering what might have happened if she’d taken a chance. If the freedom she’d been dreaming of for her entire adult life was all about choice, then she chose
him.

All he had to do was choose her back.

TWENTY-FIVE

He should have kissed some sense into her. There was nothing wrong with his
mouth.

But when Miranda was so nonchalant about never seeing him again it had knocked Tyler back. He couldn’t even put on a damn T-shirt alone—how was he supposed to convince her that he would look after her for the rest of her life when he couldn’t dress himself?

After a day spent fending off calls from his family, his partner, his captain, some moron from the press who wanted to paint him as a hero and a woman trying to sell him life insurance, Tyler paced the floor of his apartment like a caged animal. He reckoned Miranda had about twenty-four hours before he switched from the role of bodyguard to stalker. If he had to kidnap her and spend the next week demonstrating how much he wanted her then so be it. The physical pain he was experiencing from a couple of run-of-the-mill gunshot wounds was nothing compared to the agony he felt when he thought about losing her.

Now he’d risen from the ashes of his messed up life like the mythical phoenix of her code-name, he could plan a future. One he wanted to share with her.

But had he
told her that?

He’d come to the sad conclusion he was a pathetic, cowardly weakling when there was a frantic knocking on the door of his apartment. At a little before midnight the last thing he expected on the other side was a breathless, wide-eyed Miranda. It was obviously raining again—the shoulders of her coat sparkling with silvery raindrops and her hair a shade darker. With her face flushed and devoid of make-up he thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

‘Figured it out, did you?’ he asked roughly.

Her brows wavered with uncertainty.

‘Give it another minute.’

When she attempted to smile it wavered, too—her eyes shimmering with emotion as her breasts rose and fell with each rapid breath.

‘Almost there...’ The corner of his mouth lifted with the affection he didn’t try to disguise.

Her smile was more convincing the second time, growing in direct relation to the dawning realization in her eyes.

Tyler nodded. ‘Took you long enough.’

As she made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob he reached for her hand to draw her inside and kicked the door shut with his foot.

‘Coat off.’ He led her into the kitchen and jerked his chin at the counter. ‘Sit up there. I’ll be right back.’

When he returned from the bathroom with as many towels as he could carry in one hand she’d done what she was told without putting up a fight. That was a first.

‘Why didn’t you say something?’ she asked.

Tyler tossed the towels down, selected one and stepped in front of her. ‘When you were playing the role of Little Miss Don’t-Give-A-Damn? Close your eyes.’

As she did he dried her face, her eyes opening again when he progressed to her hair.

‘I was going to let you go.’ The words were said in the small, vulnerable voice that turned him inside out.

‘Too bad. I told you a while back—I’m in your life now. Get used to it.’

She blinked. ‘Are you telling me you knew
then?

‘No. I knew when you knocked me on my ass.’

‘I knew when you kissed me on the ferry.’

He nodded. ‘That’s why you got scared.’

‘Yes.’ She frowned and reached for the towel. ‘You shouldn’t be doing that. You’re hurt. I should be taking care of you. Not the other way around.’

Tyler allowed her to take it and watched as she set it aside. ‘If we’re gonna make this work there has to be a little of both—not that I’ll make it easy for you.’ His mouth curved into a wry smile. ‘In case you hadn’t got it already, I’m not a very good patient. I like to think I’m better at taking care of other people, if they’ll let me.’

‘No one’s ever been there just for me,’ she confessed. ‘Not the way it felt you were in the last few weeks...’

‘And that’s never gonna change.’ Not when it felt as if he’d been born to be with her. He watched as she blinked a tear from her lower lashes and dashed it away with the back of her hand. ‘Can you tell me why you were scared?’

‘It was too much and not enough.’ She searched for a way to explain it. ‘What your eyes were saying—I didn’t want to hear if you were planning on walking away, but if you’re not—’

‘I’m
not,
’ he stated firmly. ‘But there are a couple of things we need to get straight before we go any further. Starting with your father.’

Her expression questioned where he was going.

‘I won’t let him fast-track me up the food chain to make me more suitable for you,’ Tyler continued. ‘When I get my career back on track it won’t be for him, it’ll be for us. I passed the sergeants exam six years ago—can ace the lieutenant one the same way, but when the time comes to aim higher if I hear so much as a rumour of whispers in the right ears there’ll be trouble.’

She listened intently while tears filled her eyes but, as hard as they were to see, he couldn’t stop to do anything about them until he’d said his piece. ‘I’m an expert on interfering families—did some interfering of my own in return—so I know how it works. Being in love with his daughter doesn’t make me a soft target for manipulation. He ever tries it with you again we’ll be having words on the subject. You’ve sacrificed enough for the family business. From here on in your needs come first. It’s already been tempting to tell your parents that to their faces. If they knew you the way I’ve started to—why are you smiling?’

It was bright enough to compete with the sun.

‘You’re in love with me?’

‘That’s the only thing you got from all that?’

‘It’s the only thing that matters.’

If it was they would never run into any problems but... ‘Being a cop’s wife isn’t easy.’

Her eyes widened. ‘You’re proposing now?’

‘I like to think when I’m proposing you’ll know I’m doing it.’ Nudging her knees apart to make space to step closer, he laid a possessive palm on her hip. ‘What I’m saying is we’ve got time—take as much of it as you need and talk to as many members of my family as you want. I can’t change who I am for you or keep you in the lifestyle you’ve been accustomed to but—’

She shook her head. ‘You don’t have to. I have money. That’s not an issue.’

‘It is if you think we’re living off a trust fund.’

‘It’s not a trust fund. Well, it is until I turn twenty-five, but my parents didn’t set it up. It’s an inheritance from my grandfather.’

Tyler’s eyes narrowed at the offhand tone to her voice. ‘Are you telling me you’re rich?’

‘I’m afraid so. You’ll have to learn to live with it.’

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. ‘Even if it begs the question of what I can offer you?’

She ignored the question. ‘You’re
in love
with me?’

‘Are you listening to anything I’m saying?’

‘Yes.’ She blinked a couple of times. ‘I just seem to be a little stuck on that one...’

‘Why?’

‘I didn’t think... I mean I thought I’d have to...’ The uncharacteristic lack of something to say removed the frown from his face as she took a short breath. ‘I haven’t done anything to deserve it. I was awful to you at the start and then I was difficult. You were right—I’m hard work.’

‘And I’m not?’

When he searched her eyes he found wonder mixed with the vulnerability she kept hidden from everyone else. Added to the insight he’d gained when she’d talked about her fear of not being enough, it felt as if the final piece of the puzzle had slotted into place. The need to reassure her made him reach out so he could hold her while he admitted there had been plenty of times she was more than he could handle. But when the sharp pain in his shoulder made him grit his teeth to stifle a groan a second possessive palm on her other hip was as close as he got.

‘I’m no angel and I don’t want to end up married to a saint, either.’ He leaned closer. ‘So if you think you have to be anything more than you already are you’re wrong. You pulled me back from the edge. No one else could have done that. Last night—’ he cleared his throat ‘—I went there to kill him.’

As he stood tall and waited for her judgment Miranda frowned. What was he talking about? Then it clicked. ‘He was the guy you sent a message to.’

‘Yes.’

Not that she believed it for a second. ‘Why were you going to kill him?’

‘He made it personal.’

‘How?’

His gaze lowered to one of her hands when she set them on his forearms. ‘Her name was Candice.’

Miranda felt an immediate surge of jealousy.

‘I busted her a few times when I was with Vice.’

She exhaled the breath she was holding.

‘When she fed me some useful pieces of information I put her on the payroll—one of them led to a drugs bust that took me to Narcotics.’ He took a long, controlled breath. ‘A month before I got assigned to Municipal Security her dealer changed and she witnessed something that could have put a major player behind bars. I said I’d protect her if she agreed to give evidence in court but left her alone to chase the lead. By the time I got back she was dead.’

‘What happened?’

‘He beat her to death with a baseball bat.’ The hand at the end of his good arm moved from her hip to tunnel underneath her sweater in a way that suggested he needed to feel the warmth of her skin. ‘I recruited her. I ignored the danger she was in and it got her killed. To him it was business. To me it was personal.’

With the explanation, how seriously he’d taken
her
safety made perfect sense to Miranda. She ran a palm up his arm, across his shoulder and raised it to his jaw, waiting for him to look into her eyes before she spoke. ‘I know you well enough to know if you thought something might happen to her you would never have left her alone. You’d have fought for her, Tyler—taken the beating for her if you could, died if it meant saving her life.’

While trying to bring her murderer to justice he almost had.

‘I should have known the risk.’

‘If you think worst-case scenario in every situation...’ The realization it was exactly what he’d been doing twisted her heart. ‘That’s why you saw potential threats everywhere you looked when you became my bodyguard, isn’t it?’

‘Partly,’ he admitted reluctantly, before pressing his mouth into a thin line. ‘If I tell you something you have to promise not to freak out.’

Meaning she wasn’t going to like it...

‘The guy outside the movie theatre was the one I saw outside the school.’ Long fingers flexed against her skin in reassurance. ‘Lewis Rand was briefed but I need you to be careful until I track down the rest of the letter writers. There’s only a couple more to go so—’

‘Wait.’ She interrupted. ‘Are you talking about Paul?’

He frowned. ‘Who the hell is Paul?’

‘Dark hair, glasses, has a problem with the three-second handshake rule.’

‘You
know him?

Miranda nodded. ‘He’s a self-professed superfan. Re-Tweets everything I say on Twitter and tries to see me in the real world as often as he can. He’s quite sweet really. His mother died a few years ago and I think he’s lonely.’

‘Great,’ Tyler said flatly. ‘I threatened Bambi.’

‘You can apologize the next time you see him. If we get married he’ll probably be outside the church...’


If
we get married?’

‘We’ll get to that in a minute.’ Sliding her hand from his jaw to the back of his neck, she wriggled closer to the edge of the counter and locked her legs around the backs of his knees. ‘Tell me about last night.’

‘I couldn’t take the shot.’

‘Because you’re not a murderer,’ she said firmly.

‘I wasn’t sure any more. Was starting to forget who I was until I met you...’ A corner of his mouth lifted to form another wry smile. ‘It was part of the reason I told myself I couldn’t sleep with you. Believe me when I say it had squat to do with not wanting you.’ As if to prove the point his hand moved, the tip of his thumb grazing the lace on the underside of her breast while his eyes darkened. ‘I got hooked with dance moves—wanted to take you hard and fast in the hall that night. There isn’t a single inch of your body I don’t want to kiss.’ When his smile changed the returning hint of predator sent a sizzle of heat through her veins. ‘You’re gonna be spending a lot of time naked.’

Miranda blinked, consumed by the hunger in his eyes. ‘You’re wounded...’

The protest sounded unconvincing, even to her.

‘I’m not
that
wounded,’ he replied with conviction. ‘Where you are right now works for me—or you on top, that would work, too... I’ve had a mental image of that one for a while now.’

Not that it had ever taken much but in a heartbeat her body was ready for him, the squirming movement she made on the counter creating a knowing gleam in his eyes.

‘And now you’re picturing it, aren’t you?’

‘I have a lot of those mental images,’ she confessed. ‘But before we start swapping them, I should warn you being the husband of a politician’s daughter won’t be easy.’


If
we get married?’ he repeated in a lower, rougher, unbelievably seductive voice.

‘You haven’t proposed yet,’ she pointed out as she ran her fingertips over the short hair at the back of his neck. ‘What I’m saying is we’ve got time for you to ease into it. Knowing my father, he’ll run for governor in a few years and when he does we’ll be asked to stand onstage with him to show our support.’

‘You’ll still do that?’

‘Not full time.’

‘Gonna have to vote for him, aren’t I?’ Tyler asked as he focused his intense gaze on her mouth and leaned closer.

The tip of her tongue flicked over her lips. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t. I’m Team Tyler all the way.’

‘No, you’re not. We’re Team Us.’ He stilled and leaned back to look into her eyes. ‘At least we would be if you’d ever get around to saying you love me back.’

She fluttered her eyelashes in response. ‘You hadn’t figured it out already?’

When he raised his hand from her hip the grimace of pain was impossible to hide.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m moving into position to kiss it out of you. It’s just not gonna be with this hand.’

BOOK: Her Man in Manhattan
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