Her Man in Manhattan

TWELVE



Miranda was determined not to let it get to her.

By thinking about the contents of the letters she was allowing whoever had written them to occupy a place inside her head. She refused to give them that but to deny she was rattled would have been pointless. In the following busy days the only time she felt secure was with Tyler around, which was a tad ironic considering the danger he posed.

She glanced at him as he completed a check of the room and stopped to run his gaze over the buffet table. ‘I’d eat something if I were you. There’s not a lot of time for snacks during the speeches stage of the campaign. I think I saw mini-doughnuts somewhere. They’re a cop thing, right?’

‘Not if the cop wants to stay in shape.’

‘You have trouble with your weight?’

‘Not everyone is blessed with my godlike physique.’

Miranda stifled a smile as she looked away. It hadn’t escaped her attention he’d been working on his sense of humour lately, even if it demonstrated a distinct lack of anything missing in the ego department.

Lifting her bag from the floor beside her chair, she rooted around for the objects she’d brought with her to help pass the time. Her mother liked to sit out front in the audience and listen to the never-ending soliloquies—her daughter, not so much. Since her father was speaking to a pro-Kravitz crowd she didn’t see the need to be there until they had to provide a united family front for the press.

With the sheet of paper carefully smoothed out on the table, she reached for the small box sitting beside it as Tyler pulled out a chair and joined her.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I promised I’d finish it.’

‘She won’t know if you don’t.’

‘That’s not the point.’ Miranda shrugged a shoulder as she selected a slim crayon. ‘It’s a karma thing.’

‘Careful with those lines.’

‘Studying me for a test, Detective, or is everything I say and do so memorable you can’t get it out of your mind?’

‘Been working long on that confidence problem?’

She lifted her chin and raised a brow. ‘You’re asking me that after the godlike physique comment?’

‘That’s just stating a fact. You can’t argue them.’ He selected what looked like a small samosa from the teetering pile on his plate. ‘Whereas what you just did? More like wishful thinking.’

When he popped the morsel in his mouth and smirked, Miranda rolled her eyes and continued colouring.

‘It’s easy to be confident when everything you want gets handed to you,’ he said a couple of minutes later.

‘I take it we’re talking about me again.’ She swapped one crayon for another. ‘Were you this judgmental with the last person you bodyguarded?’

‘I don’t think bodyguarded is a word.’

‘Is now...’

When she glanced upwards he had his gaze on the open door as an announcement sounded from the auditorium and there was a wave of applause. As he lifted long arms out to his sides in a leisurely stretch the edges of his navy jacket parted, feeding her hungry gaze with the sight of a pale blue shirt stretched taut over his sculpted chest.

Godlike might have been an exaggeration but there was no arguing the man was ripped.

She wondered when he found time to work out and then pictured him hot and sweaty, pumping weights...

‘This is my first gig as a bodyguard,’ he confessed as he lowered his arms.

Miranda averted her gaze. ‘Well, that explains a lot. What did you do before you got here?’

‘Police work.’

‘What do you call this?’

‘Babysitting.’

‘I walked right into that one, didn’t I?’

‘Yup.’

When she glanced upwards again and saw him press his lips together her eyes narrowed. ‘Was that a smile?’

‘Those little triangle things are spicy.’ He tapped a closed fist against his chest. ‘Probably indigestion.’

Miranda felt her mouth curve into a smile of her own.

Shifting his weight on the chair, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and produced a cell phone, frowning down at the screen as it flashed.

‘Are you going to answer that?’ she asked.

‘It’ll wait.’

‘Player.’

He looked into her eyes. ‘What makes you so sure it’s a woman?’

‘Isn’t it?’ She blinked innocently. ‘For all I know it could be your wife.’

‘How long you been waiting to ask that question?’ When she didn’t reply he rested his left elbow on the table and showed her the back of his hand. ‘Do you see a ring?’

‘That doesn’t mean anything.’

He lowered the hand to lift something else off his plate. ‘Does to me.’

Miranda liked that it did. Without saying so in as many words he’d conveyed he was the faithful type. She didn’t have any proof of that without taking his word for it but she knew instinctively it was true. After all, she’d met more than her fair share of liars over the years.

People who attempted to befriend her because of what rather than who she was—who thought they could get her to speak on their behalf to her father or that dating her would deliver their five minutes of fame. She’d met them all and knew she had trust issues as a result.

She would never have the same problems with Tyler. He didn’t have an agenda other than doing his job.

Knowing that should have made her feel better but, oddly enough, it didn’t.

When she returned her attention to what she was doing, he took a short breath. ‘Since we’re playing the sharing game, how come it took you so long to have that talk with your mother?’

‘Congratulations,’ Miranda said dryly. ‘It took you a whole four days to bring up the subject. I didn’t think you’d last that long.’

‘Deflection—I invented that.’

She sighed heavily. ‘Mothers and daughters often have complicated relationships.’

‘My sister gets on fine with our mom now she’s got better about calling her.’

The comment lifted her gaze. ‘You have a sister?’

‘And three brothers.’

‘There are three more of you out there?’ The thought was a tad too much for her brain to contemplate.

A corner of his mouth lifted and for the first time—while looking directly at him as it happened—she realized the move lowered the other side. It was almost a yin and yang thing, hinting at two sides of his personality.

‘There’s only one of me,’ he said as if denying the thought she hadn’t voiced. ‘The rest of them get to spend their time trying to reach the high bar I set for them.’

‘You’re the eldest?’

‘I’m in the middle.’

‘I might need you to explain to me how the high bar works if there were two born before you.’

‘I raised it,’ he replied without skipping a beat.

Miranda nodded. ‘You tell them that, don’t you?’

‘Repeatedly.’

She tried to imagine what it must have been like to be part of such a large family. Apart from the freedom they had growing up, she envied the company they would have provided for one another. It made her realize how much she missed having Richie around. He’d be joining the campaign soon and they would have to find the time to talk. She just hoped he could forgive her for breaking their pact.

Pushing the thought from her mind, she jumped into the opening Tyler had given her to get to know him better. ‘What do your siblings do?’

‘My sister runs the legal department at her husband’s company. The rest of us are cops.’

Her gaze lifted again. ‘All of your brothers are with the NYPD?’

‘Third generation,’ he said with an obvious note of pride. ‘It’s in the blood.’

‘You never wanted to be anything else?’

‘Nope.’

It explained where some of his confidence came from. He’d known exactly what he wanted, worked towards it and achieved his goal, whereas Miranda’s confidence was born of a need to survive. It wasn’t that she didn’t have it now, but in her teens it was a different story.

‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ he asked.

Ouch. But considering she probably deserved it after the way she’d been with him, Miranda let it slide. Instead she set down the crayon and pushed her chair back. ‘Do you want something to wash down that mountain of food?’

‘Avoidance—I invented that one, too.’

‘I’m thirsty and a bottle of water might help with your indigestion.’ She felt his gaze on her as she approached the buffet table.

‘You sure you can manage to find it on your own? Don’t you usually have someone to do that for you?’

‘There are several things I’m perfectly capable of doing on my own.’

‘You’re just not given much of a chance to do them...’

‘No,’ she admitted before lifting a bottle of water from a bowl of ice and turning to look at him. ‘You want one of these or not?’

He nodded. ‘Go on.’

There was another announcement as she returned to the table, followed by loud cheering as she stopped by his chair and reached out her arm. Long, warm fingers wrapped around hers as she handed the bottle to him, providing a sharp contrast to its icily dewed surface. Miranda drew in a sharp breath in reaction to the heat travelling up her arm and tingling across her chest to her sensitive breasts. Moving downwards, it pooled low in her abdomen, creating an empty throbbing between her thighs.

When her gaze lifted the intensity in his eyes devoured her, leaving her in no doubt he knew the effect his touch had on her body. What she couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t done something about it. He didn’t strike her as a man who would let something as trivial as boundaries stand in his way.

Part of her was disappointed, another frustrated. But he had no way of knowing she was different with him than she’d ever been with anyone else.

As far as he knew she played the tease with every guy she met, safe in the knowledge if they attempted to cross the line she could simply step behind a protective wall of security personnel and add another tick to a battle of the sexes scorecard. He didn’t know how tough it was to date in high school with a bodyguard present. He couldn’t imagine how long it had taken for her to lose her innocence to someone who wouldn’t consider the virginity of the mayor’s daughter a significant notch on their belt. He would never know how disappointing the experience had been or that even with determination the three other times she’d managed to find enough privacy to have sex with the same guy hadn’t been a whole heap better.

In the end it had led to a bitter break-up, which left scars she covered with a veneer of self-assuredness it had taken years to perfect. Appearances could be deceptive.

A police detective should know that.

Slipping her hand free, she turned away and stepped over to her chair, curling her fingers into her palm as if she felt the need to save some of the warmth of his touch for later. While her father began his speech they both twisted the lids off their bottles and took a drink.

‘You haven’t answered the question,’ he said.

Miranda resisted the urge to look at him. ‘Because I know what you’re doing. You think by sharing things about your life with me, I’ll confide in you.’

‘Afraid I’ll sell the inside story to the press?’

‘No,’ she answered honestly. ‘Just suspicious about your motives.’

‘Cops ask questions. It’s what we do,’ he reasoned before adding, ‘isn’t sharing stuff and getting them to empathize how you usually persuade your bodyguards to cut you some slack?’

‘I think we’ve already established I have to work harder than that with you.’

‘Which is part of the attraction, isn’t it?’

Miranda’s gaze snapped up. They were actually going there? Before she made a fool of herself again she had to be sure. ‘Attraction?’

The cobalt gaze locked to hers remained steady. ‘I think you know what I’m talking about.’

‘Maybe you should elaborate.’

‘How explicit do you want me to be?’

Miranda ran the tip of her tongue over her lips and watched as his gaze lowered for long enough to follow the movement. ‘You think I can’t handle explicit?’

If he knew the number of times she’d imagined him telling her exactly what he was going to do to her...

‘I think you still don’t know you’re swimming out of your depth.’ His tone was suddenly hollow and cold.

Subliminally Miranda responded to the accompanying emptiness she thought she could see behind his eyes with the need to offer comfort and return some of the heat he’d created inside her.

She wanted to be alone with him, really alone. She wanted him to want the same thing; to ask questions because he wanted to get to know her better and not because he was gathering information to make his job easier.

‘Miranda—five minutes.’

The sound of another voice drew her gaze to the open door. ‘Thanks, Roger.’

As he disappeared she gathered her things together and placed them back in her bag without looking at Tyler. Reaching inside, she produced the prerequisite Vote Kravitz badge and pinned it to the front of her blouse. ‘You want one of these? I always carry a few spares.’

‘I didn’t vote for him last time.’

Miranda smiled. ‘You probably don’t want to mention that in front of him. Unless you want to hear the one-on-one version of the campaign speech?’

‘Any other tips you want to pass on?’

‘If he says he’ll take it under advisement it means he’s going to ignore what you said.’

‘Good to know.’

While he cleared the table and walked to the trash can beside the buffet table she checked her appearance in the mirror of a compact and fluffed her hair into place. They met at the door, Tyler waiting silently by her side as she paused to take a breath and fortify herself for the trials ahead. It was time to put on her game face but before she did she allowed him a rare glimpse of a well-kept secret.

As the chill ran down her spine instead of hiding it she shook it off with a shudder of her shoulders. Once she realized what she’d done she glanced sideways and attempted to cover up her vulnerability with a wink. ‘Showtime.’

The low huff of amusement seemed to catch him as off guard as it did her, the immediate following need to shift his gaze to the people assembled behind the stage making Miranda’s chest expand with what felt a little too close to endearment. She knew he didn’t smile much but suddenly she ached with the need to experience it, to see how it changed his face and hear the sound of rumbling male laughter.

‘Your mother is making her way up from the audience now,’ Roger’s voice said, encouraging her to step forwards and focus.

When she got a brief glimpse of the packed auditorium as her mother appeared through the curtain at the side of the stage Miranda experienced a flutter of nerves. In need of reassurance, she glanced over her shoulder at Tyler and as their gazes met she thought she could feel it again: the silent understanding she’d been wrong about before.

The nod he gave her was almost imperceptible.

I’m right here, the unexpected warmth in his eyes said. I’ve got you.

She flashed a small smile in reply and for the first time in longer than she cared to admit she didn’t feel so alone. It was nice to think someone was there just for her.

Any concern she felt about the truth in the second part of his silent message she could examine later.