One Season And Dynasties Collection

‘I’m going to be late for my first appointment.’ When she yanked the door open and stepped into the hall her gaze lifted and crashed into cobalt-blue eyes.

Her breath caught. Tyler.

With her heart still beating hard as a result of a long-overdue parental confrontation she experienced the same difficulty she had the last time his name echoed in her mind. She couldn’t break eye contact, was frozen in place and her brain seemed to have turned into mush.

He broke the spell with the blink of dense lashes and held out a sheet of paper. ‘I told Grace I’d make sure you got this.’

‘Thank you.’ She took the schedule with one hand and closed the door behind her with the other.

‘You ready to go?’

‘I need a couple of minutes.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll be outside.’

Miranda turned the sheet of paper in her hands as they walked down the hall. When she stole an upward glance at his profile she saw the corner of his mouth lift.

‘Bye, Grace,’ his voice rumbled.

‘Bye, Tyler.’

Her gaze shifted in time to catch a glimpse of what looked like a hint of warmth on the older woman’s cheeks. In all the years she’d known her, she’d never seen Grace blush. Or be flustered enough to feel the need to shuffle the papers on her desk. Had he just winked at her?

The thought was surreal.

When she stole another glance as they approached the top of the stairs he caught her doing it. Adopting the same impassive expression he was wearing, she simply blinked and looked away. If there was one thing she’d learnt about him it was when he had something to say he didn’t have any difficulty opening his mouth. Keeping it shut on the subject of anything he might have heard through the door would be her advice.

When he remained silent she lifted the sheet of paper and glanced over her day.

‘You need any help with the big words, let me know.’

The comment made her glare at him in warning before they parted ways but as she continued down the hall to her bedroom something unexpected happened: she smiled.

Unwittingly he’d given her exactly what she needed to face the day. Combined with the knowledge that her release date was closer, it placed a spring in her step that hadn’t been there before.

SEVEN

Something was eating at Tyler.

Usually it meant he’d missed something—a random clue or part of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit. That Miranda would make another bid for freedom was a given. What he didn’t get was why it suddenly felt wrong to stand in her way.

Hearing what he’d heard through the door that morning probably had something to do with it. The knowledge she hadn’t wanted a bodyguard helped raise his opinion of her a notch, even if she was under the misconception she didn’t need one. But then she didn’t know what he knew, did she?

His gaze scanned the room, but with little cause for concern among a bunch of kids and schoolteachers it slid back to his mark. The long legs encased in sharply tailored dark grey trousers were folded elegantly to the side, one high-heeled open-toed white shoe tapping in time to the music while she smiled. Judging by the sparkle in her eyes, she would probably agree calling the recital music was a bit of a stretch but it didn’t seem to dilute her enjoyment any.

Maybe that was what was eating him: her mood.

She’d been Little Miss Sunshine since she appeared outside the mansion.

When the cacophony of sound limped its way to an overly enthusiastic end she led the applause and stood up. ‘Thank you, that was wonderful. The mayor would have loved this. If you keep practising and get to Radio City Music Hall I’ll make sure he has front-row tickets.’

Tyler doubted there was an adult present who didn’t think they would need to be practising for a very long time before that happened. Opening the door, he stepped into the empty hall, inhaling the scent he’d had so much difficulty ignoring on the trip over as she passed within inches of him. It was different from the sophisticated perfume she’d worn the day before. Since he wasn’t up to date on flowers he couldn’t identify what it had been but now he thought about it he reckoned it was probably something like lilies or lilac. The one she was currently wearing was sweeter, more playful and made him wonder if she matched her perfume to where she was going with as much care as her clothes.

If she did it was clever. Even if he could have done without the constant trace of strawberries in the air as a reminder of how she’d tasted on his lips.

He followed a few steps behind as the head teacher and members of the board escorted her along the hall. When his gaze lowered to the feminine sway of her hips he hid a frown of annoyance and forced it elsewhere.

‘This next class is made up of children with learning difficulties,’ the principal explained. ‘The ratio of teacher and classroom assistant to pupil is higher.’

‘What is the age range?’ Miranda asked.

‘Between six and eight...’

When they filed inside Tyler took up position by the door again. After a cursory inventory of his surroundings, the occupants and checking the line of sight through the windows there wasn’t much else for him to do but continue watching her. He justified the action by telling himself he was searching for the clue he might have missed, examining everything from her introductory wave to how she interacted with the children as she moved from one small desk to the next. She crouched down to eye level, asked questions and listened carefully to the answers. From time to time she ruffled the odd tousled head of hair, her hundred-watt smile flashing more than once.

It wasn’t dissimilar to the act she’d put on with the elderly in the Bronx the day before but Tyler couldn’t shake the sensation something was different.

As the principal explained some of the ways they made it easier for the kids to stay focused somewhat ironically Miranda’s attention wandered. When her gaze landed on something at his side of the room and she angled her chin with curiosity, Tyler looked to see what it was.

A little girl with blonde hair sat on padded mats on the floor a few feet away, seemingly oblivious to what was happening around her as she swapped one thick crayon for another and continued colouring a sheet of paper.

Miranda crossed the room and hunched down beside her.

‘Hello.’

The girl didn’t look up.

‘Would you mind if I sat with you for a minute? My feet are really starting to hurt in these shoes.’

No reply.

Regardless of her expensive outfit, she sat down and tucked her legs to one side. ‘That’s a very pretty picture. I love the flowers. Pink is my favorite colour.’

After a moment’s hesitation the girl reached for a pink crayon, her chin lifting as she held it up.

The gesture was received with an impossibly soft smile. ‘Is that for me?’

There was a nod.

‘Are you sure you want me to help? I can never stay between the lines when I’m supposed to.’

Tyler thought it was the most honest statement she’d made since they met. That it was said with a hint of self-recrimination was interesting. For a second he almost believed it was a glimpse of the real her.

Accepting the crayon, she brushed her hair over her shoulder and looked at the picture again. ‘Which one do you want me to do?’ A small finger pointed at the page. ‘Okay. I’ll try not to mess it up for you.’

Tyler looked at the captivated audience of adults who were watching what she was doing. He doubted any of them would forget it before they cast their vote in the election. They’d see her father’s name on the voting slip and think of her. Maybe even tick the box next to his name if they’d been wavering.

He’d thought New Yorkers were savvier than that.

‘You have flowers,’ a small voice said.

His gaze was drawn back to Miranda as she glanced down at her blouse. ‘I like the ruffles and the layers. They all feel different. Try one and see.’

A small hand reached out to one of the larger grey and white flowers pinned randomly to white linen. Catching a ruffle between a thumb and forefinger, the girl checked out how it felt. ‘Soft.’

‘Do you like the beads in the middle?’

‘They’re shiny.’

‘Someone has to sew them on with a needle and thread.’

‘Did you do it?’

‘Nuh-uh,’ Miranda sang in reply. ‘Needles are pointy. It’s not a good idea to play with the things that might hurt you.’

Something she could have done with remembering before she gave a stranger the come-on from a dance floor.

Tyler looked away and found a boy at a nearby desk staring at his waist with wide eyes. Lightly shrugging his shoulders, he tugged the edges of his jacket closer together to cover his sidearm and checked his watch. It was almost time to leave. Shifting his gaze to his mark, he waited for an opening to make eye contact.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Casey.’

‘I’m Miranda. Why are you sitting on your own, Casey? Don’t you want to sit with your friends?’

‘There are boys at my table,’ she explained with the typically solid reasoning of most small girls her age.

‘Some boys can be nice.’

‘Some of them are mean.’

‘Believe me, I know.’ Obviously stifling amusement, Miranda shot a pointed glance his way.

Cute—with a lazy blink to indicate he’d got the message, Tyler subtly tapped his watch. Tick-tock, princess.

‘I have to go now, Casey,’ she said with a pout before turning it into a smile. ‘But it was very nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me colour with you.’

‘Are your feet better?’

‘Much better, thank you.’ She pushed upright and ran her palms over the seat of her trousers, brows lifting when the sheet of paper was held up in the air. ‘I can take it home with me?’

‘You can finish it at your house.’

‘I will, I promise. Bye, Casey.’

‘Bye, Miranda.’

She waved to the rest of the room. ‘Bye, kids. Thanks for letting me come visit you today. I can’t wait to tell the mayor how great you’re all doing in school.’

Tyler stepped into the hall as there was a chorus of goodbyes. Lifting the mike in his closed hand, he spoke into it in a low voice.

‘Rand from Brannigan, Phoenix is on the move.’

The reply sounded in his earpiece. ‘Roger that—moving to primary.’

As they approached the main entrance Tyler tuned out of the conversation and went on alert. There had been a small gathering of parents outside when they arrived, but, taking into consideration how long they’d been there, the numbers might have grown. When the group in front of him stopped in the foyer he headed for the doors to check it out. What he discovered made him twice as determined to stay focused. He had to hand it to her: whatever else she might be, the woman was a crowd-puller.

When she said her goodbyes, shook hands and headed his way he stepped outside, his eyes on the crowd as he walked a few feet in front of her. What he was looking for as she approached the people yelling for attention was someone who stood out, whose actions and demeanor were different from everyone else’s. While she waved and stopped to shake hands on the approach to Officer Rand at the waiting Suburban, Tyler took dozens of mental snapshots. A couple of minutes and an alarm bell went off in his head.

He went back over the last faces he’d seen while she talked to a young woman who followed her on Twitter.

At the back of the crowd there was a man who wasn’t smiling or yelling. He was pale and ordinary looking, the kind of guy who normally faded into the background. Dark hair, approximately five feet eight, glasses, baseball cap with a faded lion logo—nothing unusual there. What made him stand out was how he was fixated on Miranda as if she was the only thing he could see.

Suddenly Tyler was aware of every hand reaching out for her, the weight of bodies pressed against the barricade close to where she stood and the flapping greeting banners that could obscure any of the danger behind them.

Adrenaline sped through his veins while his gaze flickered to face after face. With a sickening sense of inevitability heads moved in the crowd and he saw the one face he would never forget. Dull, lifeless eyes filled with accusation stared at him from a face streaked with blood.

It didn’t matter that the man at the back of the crowd hadn’t moved. He couldn’t take a chance.

Stepping towards Miranda, he laid a palm on the inward curve of her spine and leaned close to her ear. ‘You need to go now.’

Her body stiffened as she looked into his eyes. ‘Why?’

‘Just do it.’ He added pressure to her spine to move her along.

To her credit she dealt with the situation a lot better than he did, smiling brightly and waving goodbye as he ushered her to safety. If he had time to stop and think about it Tyler might have realized he respected her for that. But since he was too busy getting her the hell out of there he jerked his chin at Rand, who opened the rear door and looked around.

‘Problem?’ he asked when Miranda was inside.

‘Guy on my six at the back of the crowd.’

Rand looked over his shoulder. ‘Which one?’

‘Pale complexion, glasses, baseball cap.’

‘Don’t see him.’

Turning ninety degrees and zeroing in on the position, Tyler frowned when he discovered the man wasn’t there.

‘Let’s go.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Miranda asked when he opened the driver’s door and got behind the wheel.

He watched Rand through the windscreen as he walked around the front of the vehicle to the jump seat. ‘Nothing you need to worry about.’

‘Nice try.’ To his surprise her voice softened. ‘I saw your face, Tyler, and—’

‘We have a schedule to stick to,’ he said tightly as the passenger door opened. When their gazes met in the mirror something resembling understanding passed silently between them before she glanced at Rand.

She shook her head. ‘You’re more obsessed with my schedule than Grace.’

It wasn’t the first time she’d followed his lead. But that she hadn’t pushed on the subject in front of his fellow officer made it feel as if she was protecting him, which was not a pleasant sensation for Tyler. Pulling away from the kerb, he headed them back to Manhattan and took deep, even breaths. That his heart rate still hadn’t returned to normal by the time they got to the Brooklyn Bridge wasn’t unusual—he’d been in plenty of situations where adrenalin continued to course through his body long after the event.

But this time felt different.

He just wasn’t sure he wanted to know why.

EIGHT

As someone who’d been looking forwards to a little one-on-one time with her new prison warden—albeit in the form of a continuing game of one-upmanship—Miranda found the addition of a second bodyguard a tad frustrating. By midafternoon she was glad to see Lewis go, especially when she hadn’t been able to get what happened off her mind. They’d barely left the civic reception at City Hall before she focused on what she could see of his reflection in the rear-view mirror and broached the subject with Tyler.

‘What happened this morning?’

‘I told you it was nothing to worry about.’

She scowled at his eyes when they didn’t look at her. The fact he was driving through heavy traffic didn’t seem to matter. ‘I didn’t push the subject when Lewis was here,’ she reminded him. ‘But I saw the look on your face and there’s no way you were that spooked about nothing.’

‘I wasn’t spooked.’

‘Call it what you want, I know what I saw.’

The atmosphere within the cocoon of the SUV grew darker, the lack of a response adding to her frustration. ‘The whole mean, moody and mysterious thing you’re working so well won’t cut it with me. If you want to build a level of trust in this relationship it has to go both ways.’

‘When I think you need to know something, you will.’

She tried to figure out why she’d wasted time worrying about him. Despite his denial he’d been spooked, Miranda couldn’t think of a better word to describe his reaction. When she’d stolen a glance at him as he watched the crowd he was frozen in place, ramrod straight and the colour seemed to have faded beneath his tan.

Momentarily distracted by the conversation she was having with the person closest to her, she hadn’t seen him move. She could still feel the pressure of his large hand on her spine, the heat of his touch branding her through the material of her blouse as an electric current zinged through her body. Adding the deep rumble of his voice so close to her ear she could almost feel his lips move left her skin feeling several sizes too small to fit over her bones. He would never know how much effort it had taken to make it look as if she hadn’t been so shaken by it she wouldn’t have noticed if the sky had fallen down.

As she turned her head and looked out of the side window she blamed her fantasies. The time she’d spent dreaming about having seriously hot sex with him combined with the forbidden aspect of physical contact with one of her bodyguards had left her body primed in a way it had never been for any other man.

The pang of hurt she felt was harder to justify.

When she’d looked into his eyes in the mirror, she’d thought she felt a flicker of understanding pass between them and dropped the subject until they were alone. It was the same way she’d felt in the school when she teased him about being mean and even made her wonder if giving her what she’d needed after the confrontation with her mother had been unintentional.

She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

By rejecting the olive branch she’d offered him, Detective Brannigan had sealed his fate.

Fishing in her Herrera bag for a pair of sunglasses, she hid behind them while she plotted her revenge.

NINE

Like every other guy on the planet Tyler could think of a million other things he would rather do than sit around waiting while a woman went shopping for clothes. That she felt the need to parade each outfit in front of him wasn’t helping any, especially when it gave him an excuse to fill his mind with image after image of her body.

Leaning forwards on a velvet-covered chair, he rested his elbows on his knees, staring at the cream carpet while he crossed his jaw and mentally prepared for the next test of his self-control.

‘This neckline might be a little too low,’ her voice announced from beyond the curtain.

While he appreciated the warning he still felt the need to take a deep breath and blow it into his cheeks before exhaling. If she started modelling lingerie he would have to take a cold shower. The sound of curtain rings drawing across a rail lifted his gaze for a furtive glimpse of what was headed his way.

A little too low, she’d said?

The damn thing was practically at her navel.

All but painted onto her body, the black floor-length sleeveless dress plunged downwards from two thick straps on her shoulders. The globes of her spectacular breasts were barely contained, leading his gaze over the valley of her cleavage to the minuscule black band beneath and the tempting strip of skin beyond that.

She placed her hands on her hips and struck a come-and-get-me pose. ‘What do you think?’

It was a bit difficult to think anything when all the blood had rushed from his brain to a point in his body that was so painfully hard he had to stifle a groan.

Silently clearing his throat, he forced a response through tight lips. ‘It’s nice.’

She arched a brow. ‘Nice?’

Tyler frowned as he raised his chin and looked into her eyes. ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘Anything other than nice, fine or not bad would make a pleasant change.’ She took a deep breath that pushed her breasts forwards and loosened Tyler’s grip on his sanity. Then she bent forwards, lowered her gaze and wriggled her shoulders from side to side. ‘I’m a bit worried I might pop out of it.’

He sat up and ran his palms over his face. ‘How much longer do we have to do this?’

Raising her hands Miranda cupped her breasts as she straightened. By the time she looked at him Tyler had his hands in his lap to hide the evidence of what she was doing to him.

‘As long as it takes to get what I want...’ A decadent smile formed on her lips as she dropped her hands to her sides. She shrugged. ‘There’s a reason this is the last appointment on the schedule today. They’ll stay open late for me if I need them to. They’re awfully good about that and I do love to shop.’ Turning, she looked over her shoulder and asked, ‘How does it look from the back?’

Like endless miles of flawlessly tanned skin he wanted to touch to discover if it was as soft as it looked. He’d start with his hands, then his mouth, would retrace the path they took with his tongue and blow gently on the wet surface to raise goose-bumps while he raised her skirt and...

‘I was worried about lines so I thought it was best not to wear anything underneath it.’

Tyler swore viciously inside his head. Gritting his teeth together hard enough to crack the enamel, he managed to bite, ‘Where exactly are you planning on wearing that?’

‘You think it’s too much for something public?’ She stepped over to the mirrors lining one wall so he was treated to a front and back view at the same time. ‘You’re probably right. Somewhere more intimate would be better. Given the right smoky atmosphere and some sultry music...’ She closed her eyes and swayed her hips. ‘Mmm...’ Her palms followed the curve of her sides from waist to hip. Then she stilled and popped open her eyes. ‘I might get this one.’

When she went back into the dressing room Tyler looked at the ceiling and silently asked what he’d done to deserve her. Didn’t he have enough to deal with already? He might have miraculously managed to temporarily put his problems to the back of his mind, but it didn’t mean they’d gone away. He supposed he should be thankful she hadn’t made another escape attempt. But while she was making him suffer for not telling her what had happened outside the school he didn’t consider it much of a silver lining.

The door to his left opened and the personal shopper who’d already rolled a rack of clothes into the changing area appeared with another one.

‘How is she getting on?’ she enquired with a smile as she wheeled it in.

‘Slowly.’

His response earned a chuckle of laughter. ‘You can’t become a fashion icon in this city without putting in long hours of preparation.’

Since he didn’t know anything about fashion Tyler would have to take her word for that.

‘Is that Janice with the next rack?’ a voice called from behind the curtain.

‘Yes, I have it here,’ Janice replied. ‘Is it safe to come in?’

‘Absolutely. If you hadn’t come back I was going to have to ask Tyler to zip me up.’

While they chatted behind the curtain he pushed to his feet and began pacing the room. After the third lap—and with no new outfit to send him over the edge—he reached into his pocket for his cell phone and called his partner.

‘I’m officially in hell,’ he said in a low voice.

‘The mayor’s little girl proving too much of a handful for you?’

‘She’s shopping.’

‘I feel your pain, brother.’

‘Could you feel it without sounding so amused?’ He walked to the other side of the room and glanced at the curtain. ‘Give me some good news about the case and I won’t hit you the next time I see you.’

While his partner brought him up to speed he made the mistake of turning his back to the changing room. It was only when he ended the call he realized it had gone quiet.

Immediately crossing the room, he threw caution to the wind and yanked back the curtain.

‘Son-of-a—’

TEN

‘How pissed do you think he’ll be when he tracks you down?’

Miranda shrugged as they relaxed in comfortable chairs in the elegant surroundings of the iconic Waldorf Astoria. ‘Don’t care. He deserves it.’