sighed contentedly. ‘Can we call the “who’ll crack first?” competition a draw now and progress to the kissing marathon?’
Tyler brushed a waving lock of silky hair from her cheek, committing the softness of her skin to his memory. ‘We don’t have that luxury with your schedule.’
‘We could try making time for it,’ she suggested.
‘How about we see how it goes for the next while?’ Having stepped over every line he’d tried to draw between them bar one, it was the only concession he could make.
‘I’m okay with that.’ She rocked forwards onto her toes, crushing her breasts tighter against his chest as she lifted her chin and demanded, ‘More.’
Tyler was happy to oblige, picking her up off her feet as he slanted his mouth over hers.
After several minutes of kiss-filled silence she mumbled, ‘You think I don’t know you’re carrying me back to the house right now?’
‘If you’d shut up I could distract you better.’
‘You can’t carry me the whole way there.’
‘Says who?’
Carrying her he could do. Looking after her while they were together he could do. Touching her and kissing her he could definitely do—wasn’t as if he’d managed to stop himself from doing either one. Making love to her—no matter how desperately he wanted to—he still had to avoid. She’d thank him in the long run, especially if the alternative was living with the fact she’d given herself to a man who became a cold-blooded murderer.
He could protect her from that.
Even if it was the last honourable thing he did.
TWENTY
Either Tyler was more in control of the risk-assessment aspect of her security than she’d given him credit for or he was better at escaping than she’d ever been. Not that it mattered after two of the happiest weeks of her life.
Every time there was so much as the smallest gap in her schedule he would take her somewhere she’d never been. An impromptu concert tour of some of the best musicians performing in subway stations; to partake of lunch from a street vendor and run back to the SUV through the rain when the heavens opened; people-watching in parks where they could pit his detective skills against her imagination in games of ‘guess the profession.’
It was a bittersweet romance.
Each place he showed her made her fall deeper in love with the city she called home and broke her heart a little when she realized how much living she’d missed. Add stolen kisses, forbidden touches and lingering heated looks to the mix and her only complaint was he hadn’t found a gap in her schedule for sex. It was something she planned on fixing if he wouldn’t. A girl had to do what a girl had to do.
When the suggestion was made they spend time together on a rare day off from campaign duties she thought they were finally headed for an afternoon of debauchery. But when they pulled up outside a neatly kept house in Staten Island her rising anticipation was replaced by surprise.
‘This is where you live?’
It looked more like a family home than a bachelor pad.
‘It’s where I grew up.’ He switched off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt. ‘Hope you’re hungry. There’s always enough food to feed an army at Sunday lunch.’
Miranda froze. ‘Wait. What? I can’t meet your family.’
‘You can sit out here if you want but you’re gonna be here awhile.’
She’d never felt more in need of an escape route. ‘I can go for a walk or take a ferry ride. I’ve always wanted to do that. I’ll meet you back here in a couple of hours.’
‘In what universe do you think that’s likely?’
‘It’s your family. I can’t go in there.’
‘You meet people every day. I’m not seeing the problem.’ He leaned across and opened her door. ‘Out.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Yes, you can.’
‘Would it make a difference if I said please?’
‘No,’ but it earned an all-too-brief brush of his firm mouth across her submissive lips. ‘I got a call last night to say there’s some big family announcement I’m not to miss and, since I can’t get out of it, you get to be here. We’ll be an hour, two tops, and then—if you’re a very good girl—we can take a ride on the big orange boat.’
When he added a push of encouragement to her shoulder, Miranda chose to get out of the car rather than fall face-first onto the street. She stared at the house as she walked to the sidewalk, anything resembling an appetite replaced by the kind of churning that made