Her Man in Manhattan - By Trish Wylie Page 0,41

a few feet away from the spotlight, he watched her at work with a newfound respect. She seemed to know exactly where each lens was pointed; how to stand to display her stunning figure to its best advantage—though in fairness some folks were probably looking at her clothes—and throughout the test of endurance her smile never faded.

She was a pro. If she ended up supporting worthwhile causes when she had her freedom, they would be lucky to have her. The thought of her putting as much passion into her work as she did when she kissed him...

Well, suffice to say the world had better watch out.

When they stepped inside the movie theatre to make way for the Hollywood stars she was equally adept at working the room. Some of the people she talked to he recognized, some he didn’t, but she knew each and every one by name and managed to slip in several mayoral sound bites inside ten minutes. Since it was more than apparent he wasn’t the only bodyguard present—some of them standing out like pro-wrestlers in a ballet class—he allowed her a little more space and stepped over to the counter nearby.

Her eyes sparkled when he returned. ‘What is that?’

‘Can’t watch a movie without popcorn,’ he reasoned.

‘And a bucket of soda, apparently.’ She smiled as they lined up to take their seats. ‘You bought diet, right?’

‘Not in this lifetime.’

Reaching out, she snagged a kernel of popcorn and popped it in her mouth.

‘Did I say I’d bought it to share?’

She smiled brightly as she chewed.

It set the tone for the following hour and a handful of minutes. In the darkness of the auditorium, with numerous brushes of their fingertips in the search for popcorn, some of the tension seemed to ease from his body. He might have left the theatre feeling pretty relaxed if it hadn’t been for the sex scene in the movie.

As the tension rose onscreen it seemed to coil around them. His senses became sharper and clearer. The seductive scent of her perfume, the contact of their elbows on the armrest between them, the saltiness on his lips he knew he would taste on hers when they kissed.

When his little finger brushed rhythmically into one of the groves between finer-boned fingers he glanced sideways and saw her press her knees together. His gaze lifted to the dark pools of her eyes; the thought her body was preparing for him immediately making his do the same in return. For a moment it felt as if they were the only people there. Then something was said onscreen that made the audience laugh, snapping him out of it and allowing him time to gather what was left of his senses before the credits rolled. But reminding himself of all the reasons he couldn’t have her wasn’t working. If anything it made the need for mutual release seem as vital as his next breath.

She tugged his sleeve to get his attention when they reached the foyer. ‘Last time I was here, Mac thought it was quicker to use the side exit than wade through the mob out front.’

Tyler didn’t argue, but when the door opened there were almost as many people in the side street as there had been out front. The barricades were human—a line of uniformed police officers, some of them with outstretched arms, some as interested in who came out of the door as the crowd.

When Miranda appeared people started calling her name.

‘I don’t like this,’ Tyler said tightly.

‘It’s fine,’ she reassured him before pinning a smile in place and stepping forwards. ‘Hi, how are you? Yes, it was great, you should go see it.’

While she worked her way down the line every instinct Tyler possessed screamed at him to get her out of there. He glared at one of the uniforms, tempted to get his badge number and report him for not doing his damn job.

As the door opened and a well-known talk-show host stepped outside the crowd yelled louder and moved forwards in a rolling wave that could barely be contained. His gaze immediately darted to Miranda. She’d got a couple of steps ahead and had her back to him. As he moved closer he saw her elbow move in a way that suggested whoever was holding on to her hand wasn’t keen to let go. The minute he saw who it was Tyler grabbed the man’s arm.

‘Back off,’ he warned.

‘It’s okay,’ Miranda’s voice said. ‘I’ve got this.’

‘I said, back off.’

The dark-haired man grimaced