Free Her Man in Manhattan by Trish Wylie

right direction. ‘You’re just upset I slipped through your iron curtain of security. Through a velvet one, no less.’
    ‘Did it ever occur to you if you can find a way out someone can use the same way to get to you?’
    ‘Why would anyone want to get to me?’
    ‘Famous brings out the crazy. I don’t even care that you’re famous and right this minute I want to kill you.’
    ‘How did you find me?’ she enquired as they walked to wherever they were going. She hoped it was far away. She was having entirely too much fun to stop now.
    ‘Your friend Crystal needs to turn off the location option on her Facebook page. And while we’re on the subject of the internet any Twittering you do about the places you’re going should be done after you’ve been there.’
    ‘They’re called Tweets.’
    ‘They’re a waving flag that says “come get me, I’m over here.”’ As they stopped at a crossing he flicked a glare at her. ‘Every whack job in the five boroughs could have been waiting for you outside that school.’
    ‘Is that what spooked you?’
    ‘I wasn’t spooked. ’ His reaction to the word was so vicious the second time around it gave Miranda the distinct impression she’d hit a nerve. He took a long breath and frowned at how long it was taking for the light to change. ‘Someone in the crowd was off.’
    Miranda’s eyes narrowed. ‘Define “off.” ’
    ‘Acting odd—hinky—out of place—obsessively watching your every move.’ He captured her elbow again and pushed her across the street.
    ‘You spend all day watching my every move.’
    ‘I’m paid to do it and, believe me, it wasn’t my idea.’
    ‘Whose idea was it?’ She tugged her elbow. ‘You can let go of me now.’
    ‘Not a chance.’ He navigated their way through the human traffic on the sidewalk. ‘Your head of security used to be my captain’s partner back in the day. When he mentioned he needed an injection of new blood it was my misfortune to be volunteered as the wild card.’
    Ah-h-h, so that was what he meant when he said he’d been trying to get out of it for a week. Considering it was the longest conversation they’d ever had, Miranda thought she should make him angry more often. ‘You must have done the close-protection course.’
    ‘Stop changing the subject.’
    She sighed heavily as they rounded a corner. ‘I think you’re overreacting a tad to my having tea at the Waldorf, don’t you? Was I dancing on a table when you got there?’
    Tyler stopped so suddenly he had to yank her back into place when she got a couple of steps ahead.
    ‘Whoopsies.’ Miranda giggled when she almost tripped over, tipsy on the headiness of her success.
    He let go of her elbow when she was steady on her feet. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’
    ‘That this is strike two?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I heard you. One more strike and—’
    His body loomed over her, the tip of his nose barely an inch away from hers as his voice rumbled, ‘Get in the damn car.’
    Miranda hadn’t even noticed it was there and, frankly, with his mouth in kissing distance, she couldn’t care less. She angled her head in a move that suggested she was about to fit their lips together and lifted her chin, reducing the gap to millimetres. Then she looked deep into cobalt-blue eyes and whispered, ‘Make. Me.’
    The gaze glittering with promise of the danger she so desperately craved wandered lazily over her face. His warm breath mingled with hers while her heart thundered so loudly she could hear it in her ears. It didn’t matter that they were standing in the middle of a street in Manhattan. It didn’t matter that there were people everywhere and dozens of cars driving by and that pretty much everyone in the universe had a camera on their phone. All that mattered was how badly she wanted to be kissed.
    There was nothing beyond burning need and him.
    When her heavy-lidded gaze lowered to his mouth she saw a corner of it tug upwards.
    ‘You don’t