One Season And Dynasties Collection

She was drawn to him—had been from the start—and even after seeing him at his most dangerous it hadn’t changed.

‘That didn’t look like you,’ she replied.

The man she’d seen in the alley wasn’t the one who had been watching over her.

‘You think you know me after less than a week?’ He jerked his brows. ‘Is this the part where you tell me danger does it for you—that you’re into bad boys and want to be taken on a wild ride?’

Yes, but there was wild and then there was suicidal.

He took an ominous step forwards. ‘That’s what you were looking for from that dance floor. It’s why you responded the way you did when I kissed you. Do you know what happens to women who go looking for trouble? I do. But maybe what you need is a little taste of what you’re getting into.’

Miranda’s breath snagged in her throat as he took another step forwards, her eyes widening as she took a reciprocal step back. ‘Tyler, don’t.’

‘Too late, princess.’

The man obviously had a thing with pinning people to walls because the next thing she knew Miranda had her back to one, the cold dampness of the bricks through the thin material of her blouse making her jump forwards. The move literally played her directly into his hands. Grasping her wrists, he lifted her arms above her head and pushed her back into the wall with his body.

Hard, he was hard everywhere, muscular and tight, his grip on her wrists unyielding as he trapped them in one large hand to free up the other. Miranda struggled against him, the movement merely adding to her problems when her traitorous body responded with a gush of heat to her core. He angled his head, his lips hovering above hers, tempting, teasing, the muscles in his torso so tense they rippled with each harsh breath.

‘You think you can stop me now?’ When he spoke his mouth whispered across hers. The hand he’d freed smoothed into the dip of her waist on the side of her body before lowering to her hip and squeezing tight enough to make her feel the imprint of each finger. Moving lower, he fisted a handful of skirt material and slowly dragged it upwards. ‘Go ahead and try.’

It was pure hell not to give in to temptation and kiss him. If there was trust between them she wouldn’t resist; might even have encouraged him not to stop. But no matter how desperately she clung to the belief he wouldn’t hurt her, Miranda couldn’t deny her desire was woven with a thread of fear. Her heart pounded painfully against her breastbone, her body shaking from the inside out. He was both stronger and bigger than her—there was no way she could fight him off. She’d never been made so aware of the weakness of her body before.

As the skirt slid higher he forced a leg between her knees and nudged them apart. ‘I could take you in this position whether you want me to or not.’

She drew in a ragged breath as she stopped struggling and swore he wouldn’t make her cry. ‘This isn’t you.’

‘You don’t know that,’ he said harshly. ‘You could have been sidling up to a monster with that little game of dress up you played. I could have brought you here because I know it’s a place where people ignore screams after dark.’ His voice lowered. ‘I could be inside you right now—taking what I need without caring if you get any pleasure out of it. And when I’m done I could leave your broken body for someone else to find.’

‘You wouldn’t do that.’ The crackle of emotion in her voice was impossible to disguise. Swallowing the sob she didn’t want him to hear, she forced her gaze upwards to the fire escape on the wall opposite them, willing her mind to detach from her body so he couldn’t touch a part of her that might never heal.

When her vision blurred she blinked rapidly but was unable to stop the tears that spilled over her lower lashes to blaze a heated trail down her cheeks.

‘Isn’t this what you wanted all along—you and me, together?’ he asked in his coarse, cold voice. ‘You’ve been begging for it from the start.’

‘Not like this,’ she choked.

Whether it was the honesty, the pain in her voice, how badly her body was shaking or that he could taste the tears trickling into her mouth, she didn’t know. But suddenly his hand stilled, his fingers loosened and a deathly silence descended. It couldn’t have lasted for more than a handful of seconds but felt like an eternity. Then, without warning, he released her and staggered back as if he’d been repelled by an invisible force.

When she looked at him Miranda didn’t need better light to see the mixture of fury, self-loathing and guilt on his face; she could feel it swirling in a maelstrom around him. He moved sharply, pacing a restless circle while viciously spitting a litany of self-recrimination that was downright nasty. She winced as she straightened her skirt with shaking hands. The self-hatred was more than obvious and with blinding clarity she got an inkling of what he might have been doing.

It was more than a brutal warning of the consequences her actions could have with the wrong man—it was an attempt to get her to hate him as much as he hated himself.

When he stopped pacing he shook his head. ‘You need a new bodyguard. I’m obviously not cut out for this.’

Gathering strength, she took a tentative step forwards and dampened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I don’t want a new bodyguard. I want you.’

‘How can you say that after what I just did to you?’

He snarled like a cornered animal but with new insight Miranda saw him as less of a predator and more of an angry bear with a thorn in his paw.

She took another step. ‘You wouldn’t have hurt me.’

‘You don’t know that!’ His mouth twisted when he saw her hesitate. ‘You gonna try lying to me and telling me you didn’t have a moment of doubt?’

‘I can’t do that,’ she confessed. ‘But I can remember the man you were before you turned the car around.’

His chest heaved as he tried to gain control. ‘What do I have to do to make you realize you’d be better keeping your distance from me?’

‘I don’t know. But this wasn’t it.’

‘I’m not like the other guys you’ve spent time with. There’s nothing polished or refined about me.’

If he was trying to discourage her from reaching out to him, then he wasn’t doing a very good job. The compulsion she’d felt to offer comfort combined with her need for physical contact, drawing her to him with a sense of what felt like inevitability. She took another step forwards and another until she was standing directly in front of him.

‘Right now I need you to hold me for a minute,’ she said softly. ‘Do you think you can do that?’

‘You should be running for the hills,’ he replied in a gruffer voice. ‘Not asking me to get closer.’

‘I need a little shoulder action.’ When she attempted a smile the fear of rejection she’d hidden since her teens made it waver. ‘If you can think of anyone else I can ask for that when everyone who surrounds me isn’t supposed to touch me—’

He reached out and hauled her into his arms.

Miranda gasped at the contact and let out a small sob of relief. Wrapping her arms around his lean waist, she buried her face in his chest and took several breaths of Tyler scented air. She could feel the tension in his body, streams of electricity buzzing beneath his skin. But she’d been right to ask him to hold her. A violent shudder ran through him, his arms tightening as if he couldn’t hold her close enough. After a while he rested his chin on her head and she felt his throat convulse.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said roughly, the impression it wasn’t something he said very often making her heart twist.

‘I know.’ She turned a little and rested her cheek against his tie. ‘It’s okay. I forgive you.’

‘You shouldn’t. I can’t forgive me.’

‘Maybe you should start.’ She took another breath before jumping in with both feet. ‘What happened to make you so angry, Tyler?’

‘How do you know you didn’t just get a glimpse of the real me?’

‘Because you’re holding me right now and giving me what I need.’ She snuggled closer to prove the point before confessing, ‘And because I don’t want to believe it was...’

When he moved his head she felt the whisper of his breath against her hair. ‘You can’t save me, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m beyond saving.’

Leaning back to look up at his face, she discovered he was frowning; his gaze lowered so she couldn’t look into his eyes. The arms holding her loosened as he took a half step back. Unwilling to let him retreat when they’d taken such a major leap forwards, Miranda freed up a hand and raised it to stroke her fingertips along his jaw, her thumb gliding to the edge of his mouth.

Heat resonated from him, seeping into her skin and removing the chill from her bones.

Watching her thumb as it traced his lower lip, she whispered, ‘Kiss me.’

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.