Her Man in Manhattan (9 page)

He stood rigidly still.

Moving her hand to wrap her fingers around the thick column of his neck, she pulled his head down to hers and rocked forwards onto her toes. She lifted her chin, closed the last of the distance between them and pressed her lips against his. He stiffened but didn’t jerk away. Miranda took that as a good sign, even if she’d never kissed such an unresponsive partner. Launching a tentative exploration, she kissed a corner of his mouth, willing him to relax.

The thought of him remaining still while she explored every inch of his body was a heady enticement to continue. Emboldened, she traced the valley between his lips with the tip of her tongue. Then she wasn’t in control any more.

Long fingers threaded into her hair, his palm cradling the back of her head and holding it still as he sampled her lips in softly sipping kisses that coaxed her into opening her mouth. When his tongue slipped inside Miranda moaned in appreciation, sensation pouring over her like a blanket of warm honey. Another large hand stroked over her shoulder blade as the kiss deepened, smoothing down her spine and dipping to the curve of her rear to draw her closer.

When her abdomen made contact with the evidence that he was as turned on as she was Miranda grabbed the lapels of his jacket between her fingers. He parted their lips and she dropped her head back, eyes closed, as he planted a trail of heated kisses along her neck. He pushed up the hem of her blouse, burrowing his hands underneath to touch the heated skin of her midriff. When she sucked in a breath the movement granted him access to her torso. He traced a finger along the band of her bra, knuckles skimming the lace-covered swell at the underside of her breasts.

‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ his deep voice rumbled against her neck.

‘I’m not sure reminding us both it’s forbidden will help,’ she answered breathlessly, clinging to him as if he was the only thing holding her upright.

‘I’m supposed to keep my distance.’

Her mouth curved into a decadent smile. ‘That might sound more convincing if you weren’t saying it while you have your hands on me.’

‘You’re the mayor’s daughter,’ he said as he kissed his way back up her neck.

‘One day I’m hopeful people will think of me as more than that. Using my name would be a great place to start.’

He raised his head and looked down at her. ‘I’ve used your name.’

‘No, you haven’t.’

‘I can’t have gone this long without saying it.’

She smiled again. ‘Wanna bet?’

‘There was that time when I was listing everything I knew about you...’

She shook her head. ‘Doesn’t count.’

He nudged the tip of her nose with his before lowering his voice. ‘Miranda...’

The sound of her name said in the deep rumble of his voice sent a tingle across her sensitive skin.

He placed a light kiss on her lips.
‘Miranda...’

She sighed contentedly. It sounded both sexy and reverent when he said it that way. Angling his head, he scrambled her thoughts with a longer, heated kiss. She felt one of his hands move against her breast and then...

He lifted his head and took a step back, his hands dropping from her body.

When Miranda opened her eyes she blinked at the sight of a half smile curving his mouth as he held up the keys.

‘Nice move,’ she said with begrudging respect.

He clamped his fingers around the keys and lowered his arm. ‘I have plenty more where that came from but right now you’re going home before we both end up in trouble.’

When he took her hand and led her back to the SUV, her thoughts unscrambled for long enough to allow something she’d overheard in the alley to make its way through to the front of her mind. ‘The guy you sent a message to—isn’t there a chance he’ll come looking for you when he gets it?’

‘He won’t try anything when I’m on duty.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Not his MO. If he has the stones to come after a cop he’ll do it in the shadows.’ Long fingers flexed around hers. ‘Despite evidence to the contrary I wouldn’t do anything that could place you in danger.’

‘It wasn’t me I was worried about.’

The softly spoken words made Tyler stop dead in his tracks and turn towards her. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you.’ His voice was suddenly deeper, richer and accompanied by what almost felt like déjà vu. ‘You can trust me.’

The level of intensity seemed out of place, even for him. Miranda searched what she could see of his eyes. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

A sense of foreboding created an unfamiliar heaviness in her chest. ‘Tyler—’

‘I think we’ve covered enough ground for one night, don’t you?’

He had a point. Suddenly she was exhausted in a way she’d never been before, both physically and emotionally. What worried her was how badly she wanted to draw strength from him and how quickly she’d become reliant on him being there. It wasn’t like her.

From the night they met she’d been following his lead. Even when she’d resisted she’d been caught in the undertow of a wave of attraction, unable to come up for air. At some point she knew she would have to—he wouldn’t be there for ever. But until that day and while there was something that made it feel she should hold on to him, she wrapped a second hand around his and held on tight.

FIFTEEN

‘I’m hearing rumours on the streets there’s a rogue cop gunning for Demietrov. Tell me it’s not you.’

When Tyler silently took the fifth his partner swore in his ear. ‘This isn’t the Wild West where you can clean up the streets with a gun. Hang on.’ He raised his voice to yell at someone who had obviously walked in on his end of the conversation. ‘Anyone wants me I’ll be in the porcelain reading room.’ His voice lowered again. ‘I haven’t been keeping you in on the loop so you can turn vigilante on me. You can’t take on every low life in the city. What difference do you think one man can make?’

‘We think that way we’ve got no business being cops,’ Tyler replied flatly. For him there was more to carrying a shield than family tradition. He’d signed up to make a difference; his lack of success over the years more than half his problem. A little never felt like enough. Textbook overachiever most likely, but the way he saw it there was no point doing something if it wasn’t done right.

‘Do what you’re thinking about doing and you won’t be a cop for much longer,’ his partner replied. There was the sound of a creaking door being opened. ‘You seem to be under the impression ’cos you’re not married with kids it means no one will get hurt if something happens to you. How do you think your family would feel about that?’

Probably the same way they’d feel if they’d had ring seats when he’d treated Miranda the way he had. Like all good Irish boys he’d been raised to be respectful to women. Hadn’t been much indication of that with her, had there? His mother would tear strips off his worthless hide if she knew what he’d done. But when it came to how his family would feel if he became part of the darkness he’d been fighting for so long, Tyler realized he’d convinced himself they would understand. Be disappointed in him—no doubt about that—but they’d get it. Miranda wouldn’t.

Not so long ago what she thought hadn’t mattered.

But it did now.

She’d been worried about him. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t wrap his head around that. Being offered forgiveness with soft, sweet kisses he found impossible to resist had been difficult enough for him to understand. But that she’d been
worried about him?

‘You listening to me?’

‘I can hear you.’

‘Not what I asked.’

Tyler watched the people going about their business with cell phones pressed to their ears, cups of coffee in their hands, briefcases as extensions of their arms or a combination of all the above. New Yorkers living busy lives and never worrying about crime until something happened to them. It was the way it should be but it took a thin blue line of defence to keep it that way.

He wondered when he’d first thought about crossing it and then questioned for the hundredth time why he’d made the exact same vow to Miranda he’d made to the woman who’d died when he couldn’t live up to his word.

‘Did it occur to you by calling him out he might come gunning for you?’ his partner asked. ‘What am I saying? Course it did. You think by painting a target on your back you’ll force him out of hiding. I thought we had a
plan.
’

‘We’re barely making a dent in his operation. Every time we take his dealers off the streets he replaces them before we’ve had time to do the paperwork.’

‘What if he puts a price on your head and the mayor’s daughter gets caught in the crossfire?’

It was an unnecessary reminder of his thoughtlessness but in his defence it had been a while since he stopped to consider the effect his job could have on someone else. Once he did he realized his need to protect her had nothing to do with duty any more. It was personal. She made him wish the world were a better place, adding to the dissatisfaction he couldn’t do more to make it that way.

Placing some distance between them was the only way he could focus clearly.

When she was around it had got to the point where every step he took and every thought he had was centred on the knowledge she was nearby. She clouded his judgment and weakened what was left of his resolve not to sleep with her. He couldn’t seem to be near her without wanting to touch her. Wherever possible he found himself offering a hand to help her in or out of a vehicle, placing his palm on the inward curve of her spine to guide her in the right direction, handing bottles of water to her or taking them away when she didn’t need them any more.

Her reaction to each stolen touch or heated glance made him forget all the reasons he couldn’t have her. But he needed to remember them, for his sake as much as hers.

‘...till you give me your word you won’t do anything stupid,’ his partner’s voice said.

Tyler frowned. ‘Didn’t catch all of that.’

‘The hell you didn’t.’

He stopped in front of a storefront. ‘I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.’

‘Don’t hang up on—’

Hitting the screen to end the call, he pushed through the door, walked to the nearest member of staff and flashed his shield. ‘Detective Brannigan—I noticed the lion on your company logo and was wondering if I can take a look at some of your stationery.’

While the woman led the way he checked his watch. Two hours fourteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds until he saw Miranda again. Not that he was counting.

Under normal circumstances they would be locked on a heading he suspected neither of them wanted to change. But kissing her was one thing, taking advantage of their enforced proximity to scratch an itch was another and all it could be. Apart from keeping her safe and being there when she needed him, he had nothing to offer. There’d been a time he’d thought about settling down, getting married, having kids and moving up the ranks so his family could be proud of him. But even if she wanted a commitment from a guy like him, those days were gone.

His partner’s concern wasn’t misplaced. One way or another there would be a day of reckoning. It had been a long time coming and when it did Tyler wasn’t convinced he would do the right thing.

Standing close to one of the windows he looked outside and saw a silent figure standing on the other side of the street, dull, lifeless eyes staring at him with accusation.

He wondered how Miranda would react if he mentioned he could see dead people.

SIXTEEN

She missed him when he wasn’t around. That Tyler had become such a strong presence in her daily life concerned Miranda, but not enough to distract her focus from the increased frustration it added to the lack of privacy.

Detective Patty-Fingers was going to drive her insane if she couldn’t get him on board with the idea of some quality alone time soon.

Adding the finishing touches to her make-up, she leaned back from the mirror and forced the ever-present thread of worry from her mind. Knowing the work he did allowed her imagination to run riot with dozens of horrific scenarios, all of which resulted in him getting hurt.

That no one would think she needed to know if he was didn’t exactly help.

Reaching for an assortment of mismatched gold bangles to accompany the chunky squares dangling from her ears, she stood up, pushed her feet into a pair of waiting Jimmy Choo’s and stepped over to the full-length mirror for a final inspection. The fashion police would be out in force on the red carpet but, for the first time since they’d started tearing apart everything she wore, she didn’t care what they said. So long as the short shift of cap-sleeved emerald-green material overlaid with fine black lace got Tyler’s attention nothing else mattered.

The flutter of tiny wings tickled the inside of her stomach with anticipation as she lifted her purse from the end of the bed and crossed the room. It wasn’t a
date
they were going on but it felt like one.

He was effortlessly taking the stairs two at a time when she walked down the hall, his gaze lifting to tangle with hers. As always, her breath caught. Now it really did feel like a date. He wasn’t wearing a suit. Instead his long legs were encased in black jeans and he’d layered the top half of his body with a dark sports jacket worn over a V-necked sweater with a white T-shirt underneath.

They met at the top of the stairs, his gaze slowly caressing her from head to toe before he quirked his brows and rewarded her efforts with, ‘Wow.’

A smile blossomed on her lips. ‘Exactly the response I was aiming for.’ She angled her chin. ‘Are both your suits at the dry cleaner’s?’

‘I heard bodyguards were supposed to blend in at these things. And for the record, I have more than two suits.’

‘Are they all navy and black?’ She resisted the urge to reach out and brush her fingertips over the lapels of his jacket while they were under the scrutiny of the security cameras. ‘Now that I think about it, do you even have any colour in your wardrobe?’

To her delight he looked amused. ‘You gonna start dressing me now?’

Au contraire; while he looked as mouth-wateringly good as he did, she was much more interested in
undressing
him.

When he read the message in her eyes he shook his head and inclined it towards the stairs. ‘Let’s go, princess.’ They were halfway down before he lowered his voice to ask, ‘You’re wearing underwear under this one, right?’

‘Only one way you’re going to find out,’ she replied in an equally intimate tone. ‘And did I mention this is supposed to be kiss-proof lipstick? We might need to conduct a consumer test later.’

As they stepped onto the foyer the weight of a large hand on the inward curve of her spine drew a sharp breath through her lips. She could feel each long finger, her body aching in all the places she wanted him to touch. Then the door to the vestibule opened, her father appeared and Tyler’s hand dropped a split second before he took a noticeable step back.

She hated that he had to do that.

‘I thought you were speaking at a dinner this evening,’ Miranda said to her father with a smile.

‘Came back to get your mother,’ her father replied. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘Movie premiere in Times Square. I’m afraid Detective Brannigan will have to suffer his way through a rom-com.’

Her father leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek. ‘Have fun, sweetheart.’

‘You, too.’

He nodded at Tyler. ‘Detective.’

‘Sir.’ Tyler nodded in reply.

They continued across the foyer and into the vestibule as her father made his way upstairs. When Miranda used one of the tricks she’d learnt and slowed her pace so Tyler would touch her again the outer door opened and Lou Mitchell walked in.

‘Miranda.’ He smiled.

‘Good evening, Lou. How’s the family?’

‘Great, thanks.’ He looked at Tyler. ‘How’d you get on this afternoon?’

‘Might have something,’ Tyler replied. ‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

Miranda lowered her voice as they stepped outside. ‘This place is like Grand Central.’

‘Yeah, I’d noticed that. But at least we’ll get some peace and quiet in Times Square.’

The combination of dry humour and the thought he might be as frustrated by the lack of privacy as she was made her smile. ‘What were you doing this afternoon?’

‘That’s on a need-to-know basis.’ He stopped at the front of the SUV. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘I want to sit up front.’

He shook his head. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Have you ever sat in the jump seat?’

‘No.’

‘Then you’re not starting now.’ Raising a hand he beckoned her with a crooked forefinger. ‘Round you come.’

Miranda stood her ground. ‘I thought we were parking at the Hyatt.’

‘We are.’

‘Then it’s not like I’m getting out where anyone can see me, is it?’

‘That’s not the point.’

‘We’ll be late if you don’t open the door.’

Tyler nodded. ‘Best come round here and get in, then, hadn’t you?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I can’t believe we’re arguing about where I sit.’

‘And I can’t believe you’re kicking up such a stink about it when you’ve never sat anywhere else.’

Miranda aimed a mock glare his way. ‘Maybe it might be nice not to feel like I’m being chauffeured everywhere.’

‘You
are
being chauffeured everywhere.’

‘You could indulge me just this once,’ she cajoled.

‘Not paid to do that.’

She batted her lashes and pouted, ‘Pretty please?’

Tyler sighed heavily before the finger he’d used to beckon her pointed in warning as he moved. ‘No touching anything while I’m driving.’

Why did he think she wanted to sit in the front?

‘I
mean
it.’

He was still a party pooper but, the way Miranda looked at it, the night was young.

When the locks clicked she opened the door and climbed inside, carefully arranging her dress so it wouldn’t crease and then sliding the skirt a little higher so it revealed a couple more inches of leg. As they reached for their seat belts she glanced surreptitiously at Tyler to see if he’d noticed. Judging by the frown on his face as he turned the ignition key, he had.

She wondered if teasing him would ever get old. He had to know it was foreplay. There was nothing about him that suggested he didn’t have skills in that area. When she thought about what he could teach her, she squirmed a little on the seat.

‘Quit that,’ he said in a rougher voice as the gate raised and they left the compound.

‘I’m settling in.’ She looked out of the windscreen and stifled a smile. ‘It feels different sitting up here.’

‘That’s not what you’re doing.’ He checked for traffic before turning onto the street.

‘Are you an expert on how a woman’s mind works?’

He aimed another heated gaze her way. ‘I know getting inside a woman’s head can have spectacular results in the bedroom, if that’s what you’re asking.’ When he focused on driving again, he frowned. ‘Most cops learn to read body language. It comes in handy.’

Nice attempt at trying to change the subject.

Miranda turned towards him, much more interested in what was happening inside the SUV than she was in anything outside. ‘How do you do that?’

‘Read body language?’

‘Get inside a woman’s head.’

‘You pay attention.’

‘So what have you discovered about me?’

‘You’re not who I thought you were,’ he replied with a hint of uncharacteristic reluctance. ‘Not entirely.’

She took a deep breath. ‘I’m not sure I’m going to like everything about the answer to this question, but here goes. What do you mean by “not entirely”?’

‘You’re high-maintenance.’

Miranda disagreed. ‘Unless someone is supplying the necessary personal grooming must-haves of a mani-pedi or a fabulous haircut I manage my beauty regime the same way any other woman does.’

‘That wasn’t what I meant.’ He checked the mirrors before changing lanes. ‘You’re hard work.’

She could see how that would be true from his point of view. ‘Do I need to remind you that you weren’t exactly Mr Friendly at the start? I might have been nicer to you if you’d been nicer to me.’

‘You telling me you don’t like getting your own way?’

‘Most people do,’ Miranda countered. ‘Especially if it can mean the difference between surviving in an environment you find suffocating or drowning under the weight of a responsibility you never asked for in the first place.’

When she realized how much she’d revealed she fixed her gaze on the traffic in front of them. She couldn’t expect him to understand how she felt. No one could until they’d walked a mile in her shoes.

‘I already figured that part out,’ his voice rumbled.

‘It’s not as easy a life as some people might think it is,’ she confessed.

‘I couldn’t do it.’

‘You wouldn’t have let it continue for so long.’

‘I’m surprised you have.’

‘As crazy as they can make me, I love my family.’ She shrugged a shoulder. ‘They’re the only one I’ve got.’

With the reminder she lifted her chin and sat taller. Young ladies didn’t slouch; they had poise and composure, even when having a discussion that made them feel exposed and vulnerable to criticism.

‘You don’t have to do that when we’re alone. Save it for the crowd.’

Miranda’s startled gaze leapt to his profile.

As he straightened the wheel he glanced at her. ‘You thought I didn’t know?’

It was difficult to think anything when the sensation he really had stepped inside her head was so...
unsettling
...

‘Everyone has a front,’ he continued while she tried to find her voice. ‘Work the streets for long enough you learn there’s usually a reason for it.’

Having raised the topic, he had to know she would turn it around. ‘What do you hide?’

The corner of his mouth lifted. ‘If I answered that question it wouldn’t be hidden any more, would it?’

‘You’ve spent more than your fair share of time in an interrogation room, haven’t you?’

‘They’re called interview rooms these days.’

When she wondered how much his job affected the rest of his life Miranda decided the easiest way to find out was to open the topic. ‘It can’t be easy not to bring your work home with you.’

‘It’s not.’

‘So how do you strike a balance?’

A muscle in his jaw clenched. ‘You accept the fact you made a vow and live up to it as best you can for as long as you can.’

She understood that better than he probably thought she did. What she didn’t understand was how he dedicated so much of his life to his work without needing something for himself. Didn’t he have things he enjoyed doing in his downtime—people he wanted to spend time with, places he wanted to see? She couldn’t have survived if she didn’t have those things, even if some of them were still part of her dreams for the future.

‘You remind me a little of my father,’ she reluctantly admitted. ‘He has the same level of dedication to his job.’

‘Public service takes a particular kind of person.’

‘Self-sacrificing?’ she enquired.

‘Mule-headed,’ he replied.

‘Oh, yes.’ She nodded. ‘He can be that, too.’

‘You ever have the kind of talk with him that you had with your mother?’

Miranda angled her chin. ‘Exactly how long were you standing outside that door?’

‘Long enough to get the general gist. You’d think the doors in a place that old would be thicker.’

‘In fairness to the door my mother does have a knack for getting me to raise my voice.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘In the olden days she’d have been described as unflappable.’

‘Useful trait for a politician’s wife.’

‘True, but there’s nothing worse than someone who won’t argue with you when you’re itching for a fight.’

‘Might help if you were more open with her...’

‘Now you’re starting to sound like my father,’ she complained. ‘This is
so
not the conversation I planned on having with you the next time we were alone.’

‘And now you’re annoyed because you’re not getting your own way,’ he stated without missing a beat. ‘Like I said—
hard work.
’

Miranda scowled at his profile. ‘Did no one ever tell you it’s okay to have the thought but it’s not always okay to say it out loud?’

‘Not much call for tact in my line of work.’

She shook her head and looked out of the windscreen as he steered them through the narrower side streets that fed into the main artery leading to the heart of Times Square. Speaking her mind wasn’t something she’d been encouraged to do, especially when every word she said or Tweeted could be held against her. She’d always struggled with that. But with Tyler she didn’t have to fight against her nature. It made sense of several things once she thought about it.

‘Do you think if you were given more freedom you’d feel the need to go looking for trouble?’

The question made her sigh. ‘I don’t go looking for trouble. It has a tendency to find me.’

‘Like a drugs raid in a nightclub,’ he said dryly.

‘How was I supposed to know the place had a drugs problem when I’d never been there before?’

‘If you’d had an advance check it out they’d have told you.’ When they stopped for a crossing light he looked her in the eye. ‘There’s an army of people at your disposal twenty-four-seven—never occurred to you to take advantage of their skill set?’

‘I’m not going to bother someone every time I get the impulse to go out for ice cream.’

‘It’s your security detail’s job to protect you,’ he pointed out as bluntly as she’d learned to expect. ‘You go skipping out any time you feel like it or get caught in the middle of a raid it makes both them and the department look bad. Wouldn’t look a whole heap better for your father if he let something happen to you, would it?’