Her Man in Manhattan - By Trish Wylie Page 0,2

before I change my mind.’

Grasping hold of the hand on his chest, Tyler headed down the hall and through the busted door. As they entered an alley bathed in flashing red and blue lights one of the cops by a line of vehicles lowered his hand from the radio on his shoulder and waved them through. If he’d been her, he would have had questions about the ease of their escape, but apparently she was too busy jogging on her platform heels to keep up with his determined stride to ask.

‘My friend—’

‘Unless she’s carrying drugs she’ll be fine.’

When she tripped he simply tugged on her hand and kept walking, the anger he felt directed as much at himself as her. He could still taste her on his lips: a combination of strawberries, spice and liberation. He couldn’t remember a time he’d wanted a woman so badly he would have risked everything for a brief moment of mutual release. What he could remember were the days when his timing—not to mention his judgment—had been better.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked a little breathlessly as they rounded a corner onto a wide street where they stood a better chance of finding a cab.

If she’d been any other woman who reacted the way she had when he kissed her, they’d be headed straight for his place. But he couldn’t use her to make him feel good for a few hours even if he made certain she felt the same way. Until he completed his assignment, went back to where he was supposed to be and handed out some justice, he didn’t have the right to live his life as if nothing had happened.

To focus his mind he summoned the memory of another woman’s face and the words he’d said to her. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you,’ he’d lied. ‘You can trust me.’

‘I’m not taking you anywhere.’ When he spotted a flash of yellow he raised an arm in the air to flag down the cab. ‘He is.’ Digging in his pocket for a handful of bills as the vehicle drew to a halt beside the kerb, he handed them through the window to the driver. ‘That should cover it.’

He held open the rear door and waited for her to get inside, his gaze lowered to watch long legs fold gracefully into place before he looked into the shadows of her eyes.

‘I don’t get a name?’ she asked.

‘You already have one.’

Her mouth curved into a smile. ‘I meant your name.’

Tyler shook his head at the liquid cadence of her voice. Next she’d be asking for a phone number and when she could see him again. It was all just one big game to her. He could have been anyone—drug dealer, kidnapper, serial killer—she had no idea how dark the world could be.

But he did.

‘You’re welcome.’ He closed the door and turned away without mentioning she’d be seeing him again real soon.

Why ruin the surprise?

Since it was the last one she’d have in a while, he hoped she’d enjoyed her little adventure. Come Monday she would be playing by his rules.

Cross him and he’d make her sorry they ever met.

TWO

After checking that Crystal made it out of the nightclub okay and apologizing profusely for abandoning her, Miranda spent the rest of the weekend fantasizing about her rescuer.

She’d felt his gaze on her before she saw him, which was rare for someone who had spent most of her life being watched. Understandably curious she’d sought him out, her breath catching when she laid eyes on him.

He was the most compelling man she’d ever seen.

From what she could tell he was handsome in a rough-edged kind of way, but that wasn’t what made him exciting. What did was that even while standing tall and straight he gave the impression of a predator crouched to spring on its prey. Brazenly answering his interest in her with a smile of encouragement had felt like playing with fire, the associated rush of adrenaline addictive.

And when it came to that kiss, oh, my...

Smoothing her palms over her elegantly tailored linen dress, she followed the curve from breast to waist to hip. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to imagine the hands touching her body were larger and more masculine; a deep voice was rumbling in her ear, describing everything he was going to do to her in explicit detail.

A sigh of regret left her lips.

If they hadn’t been interrupted...

None of her small acts of rebellion had ever given