Dangerous Attraction Romantic Suspense Boxed Set (9 Novels from Bestselling Authors, plus Bonus Christmas Novella from NY Times Bestselling Author Rebecca York)

by Kaylea Cross

  “Cheryl wouldn’t have run away. She had no reason. She was a happy kid. A normal kid. She wasn’t involved in gangs or drugs. We had a great relationship. We never even fought.”

  He lowered the sound as the anchor’s voice-over continued with speculation about the case.

  “That was supposed to be hard news footage, for God’s sake!” Tyler couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, off the image of his missing daughter. “I’d be furious that some electronic rag is bandying around my personal life if I weren’t so worried about Cheryl.”

  “Right. Think of the positive,” Pamela said, her dark eyes melting with concern. “Maybe this piece will alert someone who’s seen her…like happens with that missing persons program.”

  “I hope so. I’d be thankful for anything that’d bring her back.”

  Tyler only hoped the producers of the tabloid show wouldn’t continue to follow up certain nuances of the story…like an investigation into Cheryl’s mother’s death…

  “Listen, Ty,” Brock said, his agitation clearly growing. “I’m sorry this is all hitting you at the same time, but you’re going to have to deal with my wanting out. Soon.”

  Realizing commercial filled the screen, Tyler shut off the television. “We’ll talk about it after Cheryl is safe.” The look he gave his partner pleaded with him not to object.

  Square jaw tightening, bobbing his head in agreement, Brock turned toward the door.

  “You can leave, as well, Pamela,” Tyler told her, feeling the need to be alone for a while so he could brood in solitude.

  His assistant backed off, but said, “There’s a woman who’s been waiting to see you. A Keelin McKenna.”

  Envisioning a cloud of auburn hair and clear gray eyes, Tyler muttered, “She’s still here? Get rid of her. Nicely, of course.”

  “You will not be rid of me just yet,” came a soft lilting return from the doorway.

  Tyler started as the Irishwoman entered his office uninvited. “Now see here–”

  “You just said that you would be thankful for anything that might help bring back your daughter.”

  His gut tensed. “What about Cheryl?”

  “Uh, I have some work to do,” Pamela said, making her exit. “I’ll just leave you two alone.”

  The door closed and Tyler stared at Miss Keelin McKenna. “I’m waiting.”

  “A seat?” she murmured as if he’d offered her one. “Why, yes, thank you.” Then she crossed to the couch and three upholstered chairs set around a heavy coffee table.

  “So sit already and spill.” When her forehead creased as if in puzzlement, he said, “Talk. What do you know about my daughter’s whereabouts?”

  She sank into one of the chairs. “I wish I could tell you where to find her.”

  “So you don’t know, after all.” He stalked her, towered over her, hoped to intimidate her into the truth. “Then why are you wasting my time?”

  “Because I might be able to help puzzle it out.”

  Tyler narrowed his gaze on the woman. His antennae went on alert and rightly so. He wasn’t a man who suffered fools easily. And he was used to people coming to him with hair-brained schemes in hopes of separating him from some of his money.

  “So how much do you want? For your help?”

  She shook her head. “I have no interest in monetary payment, Mr. Leighton.”

  “What, then?”

  “My reasons are personal.”

  “And obviously you aren’t going to share.”

  If he thought he could goad her into slipping, he was wrong. Her gaze steady, she waited. For his permission to continue? He sat and gestured for her to go on.

  Keelin took a deep breath. “I have rather unusual dreams. Not dreams, really. More like visions that come to me while I sleep.” Her tongue darted to wet her lips as if she were having trouble getting the words out. “I see through other people’s eyes…know their thoughts…like I’m inside their heads.”

  Great. A kook. Any hope he might have had dashed, Tyler indicated the door. “You’re wasting my time.”

  She didn’t budge. “I’ve seen through your daughter’s eyes twice, Mr. Leighton. First when she ran away and–”

  “Cheryl didn’t have any reason to run away!”

  She continued, “And the second time when someone found her.”

  The skin at the back of Tyler’s neck crawled. What was wrong with him. He didn’t believe in E.S.P. or whatever this was supposed to be. He didn’t believe her and a story that was too preposterous for words.

  “Look, you’ve got the wrong man. Give up on it.”

  “You live in a huge home on the lake and opposite a ravine,” she went on calmly, as if he hadn’t spoken.

  “Which you undoubtedly saw in a news clip.”

  “Your daughter’s bedroom overlooks the water.” Her expression turned inward as if she were remembering. When she said, “One of the steps in the front staircase creaks,” Tyler felt a chill shoot down his spine.

  Still, he said, “That step has needed fixing for years. Anyone familiar with the house could have told you that.”

  “A pedestal in the foyer supports an unusual sculpture that reminds Cheryl of an angel about to take flight.”

  Tyler’s pulse surged. The sculpture was new. Not many people had seen it yet. And Cheryl had told him it reminded her of an angel…

  “I almost forgot. You keep emergency money in your study. Tens and twenties. She took them all.”

  That did it. Tyler plunged to his feet again. “How the hell could you have known what I didn’t tell anyone but the police?” he demanded, wondering if his daughter taking the emergency cash fund had somehow become common knowledge, more fodder for people bored with their own lives.

  Her steady gray gaze turned up to him. “I saw.”

  “You saw Cheryl take the money.”

  “Not in the same way as if I were watching a movie, no. I saw the bills…her hands…the leather wallet. It’s like I was inside her.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “Like I was her for a few minutes.”

  Tyler dropped back to the couch and stared as her lids drifted back open. He didn’t know what to make of Keelin McKenna. She couldn’t be telling the truth. Her story played out like best-selling fiction. Fact: his fourteen-year old daughter was missing. He was dealing with reality here.

  What to do?

  Tyler was torn. This woman either really did know something about Cheryl’s disappearance or she had an in with one of the policemen who gave her details no one else had privilege to. Maybe he’d better check that out. And while he was at it, he could get the police to check her out. Maybe she was in on a kidnapping. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t gotten a ransom note, because she was going to work him somehow.

  “I need some time to think,” Tyler said.

  “I fear time is running out.”

  He ignored the renewed prickling at his nape. “Why don’t you give me your address and phone number so I can get in touch with you.”

  Looking crestfallen, she didn’t continue arguing. “I’m staying at the Hotel Clareton.”

  “The hotel?”

  “I just flew in from Cork early this morning.”

  Tyler started. “Then you weren’t even here when Cheryl disappeared.”

  “No.” Her smooth brow furrowed. “I don’t understand it, either. A stranger in a strange land. No connection between us. I knew the others.”

  Despite the cynicism that long ago had become part of him, Tyler felt himself wanting to believe her. At the same time, her sucking him in made him uneasy. He was a rational man, one not given to being conned. What was it about this woman that got to him where he lived? He was vulnerable because of Cheryl, Tyler reminded himself. Because the only person who really meant anything to him was missing. If anything happened to her, it would kill him. And Keelin McKenna could use his powerful emotions against him.

  As if reading his thoughts, she pressed her case. “You say you would do
anything to find your daughter.”

  “I would.”

  He’d done questionable things to protect Cheryl over the years, but his efforts hadn’t been sharp enough. They’d been too focused. Danger had come from some unexpected direction.

  “Then trust me,” Keelin pleaded, her tone heartfelt. “I do not know your city, therefore I cannot find her alone.”

  What would it hurt? Tyler decided agreeing was a win-win situation. He’d get Pamela to contact both the police and his private detective, to see what they’d come up with on Keelin McKenna. In the meantime, he’d become her shadow.

  “All right,” he said. “I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. For Cheryl’s sake.”

  “Good.”

  Her relieved smile mesmerized him. It trembled on her lips, lent a sheen to her eyes, brushed a glow across her cheeks. Like a quiet little bud blooming into a full-blown flower, Keelin suddenly appeared unspeakably beautiful. Again, he felt the connection…and purposely stood and turned his back on her to break it. He couldn’t let her affect him in any way. He needed his wits about him. Needed to concentrate on what was important here.

  “You can tell me more about these powers of yours over dinner,” he said. “And you’ll detail the dreams concerning my daughter. Maybe I can pick up on something you couldn’t.”

  “That was my thought.”

  Or he’d trick her into revealing her hand, Tyler added to himself.

  Suddenly, the appetite that had eluded him at lunch kicked in. He felt not only a powerful hunger, but a renewed strength that had eluded him for the past two days. A man who was energized by doing, his sitting back and letting others handle things had festered inside him.

  If the woman had the power to make some otherworldly connection with his daughter, Tyler thought, she’d make a believer of him. And if she had had anything to do with the girl’s disappearance…she would be damn sorry.

  If Keelin McKenna were part of some con to wring money out of him at the expense of his daughter, he would personally turn her life into a living hell.

  NEARLY AN HOUR LATER, STILL WAITING FOR TYLER LEIGHTON to finish up business, Keelin wondered if she’d made a pact with the devil. A dark-haired, pale-eyed, too-handsome devil. She knew he didn’t trust her, and she could hardly blame him.

  But he had agreed, and that’s all that counted.

  This time, the story would end well, she assured herself. They’d find Cheryl Leighton and from that day forward, her father would keep her safe. Keelin had no doubts as to his love and devotion to his daughter. She didn’t know what had driven Cheryl to run, though she gathered the girl blamed him for some terrible lie.

  A misunderstanding, perhaps?

  Keelin rested her head against the chair back, her energy suddenly at a low. The dreams had interfered with her sleep the last two nights. Added to jet lag…

  “I’m ready.”

  She started. “And just as I was getting comfortable.” She forced herself from the chair and into close proximity of Tyler Leighton. Too close. His warmth reached out to her, curled along her tired body.

  “I wouldn’t get too comfortable around me, if I were you,” he murmured.

  “A warning?”

  “Call it what you will.”

  Keelin stared up at his enigmatic expression. Though she was of average height and size, she felt dwarfed by the man. He wasn’t so very tall. She judged him to be just short of six feet. And he wasn’t so very large. His shoulders were of medium breadth beneath the tailored suit jacket. But she recognized strength in his visage and power in his gaze when he stared at her with lids half-lowered as if he were trying to sear her brain.

  Keelin suspected she should be a bit afraid of the man, but at the moment, she was too weary even to be intimidated. “Then I’ll consider it a challenge,” she finally returned. “But don’t underestimate me, Mr. Leighton. I’m as motivated as you are to find your daughter.” In some ways more so. She had a lot to make up for.

  “Then let’s get started. And my name is Tyler.”

  Keelin found Mr. Leighton safer. Not that she would admit it. As he held the office door open for her, she nodded agreeably and adapted a positive attitude.

  Seeing to Cheryl Leighton’s safety wouldn’t bring back Galvin Daley, but it might assuage a bit of her guilt, Keelin thought hopefully as they descended to the first floor. Besides which, she certainly didn’t need another soul on her conscience.

  Downstairs, she waited in the sheltered entryway while Tyler left her to fetch his vehicle from the car park across the street. A movement to her right caught her eye. Her attention refocused, she watched a stocky man slide out from the protection of a nearby doorway. Nearing middle age, he had a jowly face and salt and pepper hair. He glanced around furtively, then crossed the street at a trot, entering the same door that Tyler had taken.

  Keelin frowned and her stomach tightened for a moment until a bottle-green Jaguar rolled out through the car park exit and stopped directly across from where she stood. Tyler swung open the car door and slid from behind the wheel, then motioned for her to cross.

  A quick look around assured her there was no sign of the other man. Undoubtedly he was merely fetching his auto, as well, Keelin decided. Shaking away the odd feeling his furtive actions had given her, she waited for a break in traffic, then raced across the street.

  A short ride took them south, toward the center of the city. Tyler drove in silence, stopping just before crossing the Chicago River. A doorman opened her car door, and as she stepped out, a valet traded places with Tyler, who then escorted her into a lovely two-story restaurant with glass walls overlooking the water. The tables were draped with white linen, their centers decorated with bouquets of fresh cut flowers mixed with herbs.

  Taking pleasure where she could, Keelin inhaled the fragrance and absorbed the ambiance. She was certain she wasn’t going to enjoy what was coming. Tensely, she waited for the inquisition.

  It seemed as though Tyler was in no hurry. They perused menus and ordered. The waiter quickly brought a bottle of Merlot, and after Tyler approved it, filled two stemmed glasses. Keelin sipped at the red wine. As tired as she was, one glass would be her limit or Tyler would have to carry her out of the restaurant. The wine was relaxing her when he finally got down to business.

  “So tell me about this unusual ability of yours.”

  “I dream through other people’s eyes,” she told him again. “I cannot explain it any more accurately.”

  “So, in your dream, you see what someone else, who is awake, is seeing at that very moment?” When she nodded, he asked, “How long has this been going on?”

  “Always, I guess. When I was young, I simply thought all my dreams were of the normal sort. And as I began to sort out the difference between real dreams and these…visions…I assumed everyone had like experiences. Then I learned that no one else in my family had the…well, gift or curse, however you want to think of it. Except Gran, of course. My father’s mother, Moira. She explained things to me.”

  The way Tyler was looking at her, Keelin couldn’t tell if he believed her or not.

  “And what exactly did she tell you?”

  “That I was given a responsibility which I couldn’t put aside. That I was the one to inherit because I was strong enough to deal with the consequences.”

  Not that she felt strong. If she could give the supposed gift away, she’d do it in a heartbeat, just as she’d told her grandmother at age fifteen, after the first of the darker episodes that she called her night terrors.

  Always a wise woman, Moira had merely said a person couldn’t fight her fate. It had taken more than a decade and an unnecessary death to convince Keelin of it.

  After the waiter had delivered their salads and a basket of bread, Tyler continued his line of questioning. “What kind of consequences?”

  Not about to share her personal traumas with a stranger, Keelin made light of the issue. “Having to deal with the distrustfu
l sort who thinks I make my living spinning fairy tales.” She punctuated the observation with a forkful of salad and a piece of crusty bread. Both were delicious.

  But Tyler didn’t seem about to let her off the hook with a joke. “How do you make your living?”

  “Herbs.”

  “What? You grow or sell them for cooking?”

  “And for healing.”

  A dark brow shot up at that one. Keelin was used to skepticism when it came to alternative therapies. She wasn’t about to try to convince him that many modern medicines were based on herbal remedies.

  “So was it herbs that brought you here from Ireland? Or was it Cheryl?”

  Relieved he wasn’t going to take issue with her work, not missing the shot about his daughter, Keelin said, “Actually, I’m here to see family. My father’s sister and brother both emigrated to the United States more than three decades ago.” She figured if she was being honest, she might as well go all the way. Taking a big breath, she said, “Skelly McKenna is my first cousin.”

  He shrugged. “Am I supposed to know who he is?”

  “You do in a way.” Her fingers tightened on the stem of her glass. “You watched his telecast this afternoon.”

  “The Whole Story?”

  “That would be the one.”

  “What the hell? Is that why you sought me out?” His roar turned heads. “To get a story for a televised rag?”

  Embarrassed by the unwanted attention, she shrank into her seat. “No, of course not. I told you why. That Skelly did the story on your daughter’s disappearance was coincidence.” From his glare she didn’t figure he believed her, but she went on. “It was how I recognized her.”

  He lowered his voice. “I thought you were inside her. That you didn’t see her. Or did Cheryl conveniently look at herself in a mirror on the way out of our house?”

  Keelin shook her head. “I had no idea of what she looked like until a few hours ago. The bracelet – the strands of leather with magical charms. I saw it on her wrist in my dreams and then again on the studio monitor while I was waiting for Skelly. That’s how I put it together. I had no idea of who the girl in my head was until that moment, I swear.”