break...’
‘Why there?’ he asked while weighing up the pros and cons in his mind to distract his body from accepting the invitation she’d issued to kiss and make up.
‘Because I’ve never got to see much of it beyond the view from my bedroom window. You can help me change that...’
Tyler finished the sentence for her when he realized what she was doing. ‘And it’s close enough to the mansion to set my mind at ease if you get mobbed.’
‘I won’t get mobbed,’ she promised. ‘You’ll see.’
He’d been right; he was being managed. But while it was laced with thoughtfulness and a shared need to escape...
Flexing his fingers around hers, he lowered their arms to their sides and warned her, ‘If I’m being played again, there’ll be consequences.’
Just because it felt to him as if their relationship had changed didn’t mean she felt the same way. He’d fallen into that trap before.
She fluttered her eyelashes. ‘You promise?’
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