Her Man in Manhattan

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.