See Me in Your Dreams

by Patricia Rosemoor

  Stroking him.

  Soothing him.

  Feeling her own insides tremble from the force passing between them.

  For a moment, they stood frozen, staring at one another as if seeing each other for the very first time. The moment was magical. A turning point from which they could not retreat. Keelin felt this in her very soul.

  Tyler groaned. "I need..."

  "What is it you need, Tyler Leighton?" she whispered.

  His brow furrowed as if he were fighting with himself. "It's not...right...not when Cheryl..." He voiced the objection so low she could hardly hear.

  "Tell me," she urged.

  He gave it up with a sigh. "You, Keelin McKenna. I need you."

  The invitation too great to resist, Keelin stood on tiptoe and softly brushed her mouth across his, the light contact searing her lips. Breath quickening, he drew back, his expression self-accusatory. And though she'd protested the ability to read minds, she sensed he was thinking he should be concentrating on Cheryl. She also sensed the truth of his words that he needed her...or at least the comfort she offered.

  KEELIN WONDERED IF IT HAD BEEN LIKE THIS between Moira and Seamus...this dance between anger and tenderness...doubt and faith...antipathy and yearning.

  She had never before experienced such a whirlwind of conflicting feelings about any man. Fondness at best. Irritation at worst. Certainly not these seething emotions that made her feel alive in every thread of her being.

  Emotions that threatened to overcome her.

  She wanted to be overcome, Keelin realized...like Juliet had been by Romeo...Guinevere by Launcelot...Heloïse by Abelard.

  Like Moira surely had been by Seamus.

  Dreams are not always tangible things, but more often are born in the heart.

  Her grandmother's legacy stood before her.

  They had nothing in common, not even a country. They might not be together next week, or even tomorrow. But they could be together now. She'd waited all her life for this, and she refused to let the chance at love, no matter how brief, slip away because of doubts.

  "If you need me," Keelin said, her voice trembling. "Then know you have me."

  Tyler fisted her hair and drew her head back as if to see the truth of her words. Her breath caught in her throat and she wondered how life could be so confused. How two people so far apart could want to be so close. And then his mouth covered hers and he drew any doubts from her. His tongue filled her as she wanted to be filled in a more tender and aching space.

  Her chest rose and fell against his, their heartbeats seeming to match the same too-quick rhythm. He slid his hand down along her neck and captured the fluttery beat through the fullness of her breast. Groaning, he stroked her tenderly, his mouth never leaving hers.

  Her breasts tightened and her nipples hardened even before he traced their outline through the cloth. Heat seared her and her head went light. She clung to him desperately, her arms winding around his neck, fearing that she might fall if she let go.

  Breaking the kiss with an audible groan, Tyler held her cradled against his chest, both hands winding around her back, pulling her closer. It seemed as if they couldn't be close enough for him.

  Keelin tucked her head in the space between his jaw and shoulder, let one hand drift down his throat. His pulse thudded against her fingers and when her palm flattened against his chest, her palm captured the uneven beat of his heart. She knew he wanted as well as needed her, just as she did him.

  But the time was not right. Not when emotions at another disappointment over his daughter were running so high.

  Content to wait, Keelin gave him what she could and hoped that, for the moment, the comfort of her closeness and caring would be enough to see him through the terrible hour.

  FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HIS LIFE, Tyler felt emotionally snared. The first time, Helen had nearly destroyed him. Money had presented a half-assed solution. He'd never really resolved her betrayal, and he'd vowed never to get so close to another woman that he left himself exposed.

  Now he'd gone and done it again.

  Not that Keelin was anything like his ex-wife.

  He cared about Keelin McKenna, Tyler realized in amazement. A woman he'd only known for a few days. How had it happened? How had things changed so quickly?

  He slid a look over at her.

  Head resting against the car seat, she seemed to be asleep, her face in repose. A dapple of sunlight played over her features, and he found himself memorizing them. He wondered that he'd ever categorized her looks as ordinary when they were in fact uniquely lovely.

  But her looks were not in question here, Tyler reminded himself. Any future between them was. Once they found Cheryl and Keelin completed her family business, she would be heading home to Ireland, he was certain. He would lose her as quickly as he'd found her.

  A hard truth to swallow. How many losses could one man endure?

  His daughter's innocent face haunting him, Tyler turned his attention back to the busy street. He should be concentrating on Cheryl, not on his own needs. He couldn't fail her. Not again.

  Realizing they were nearing his office, he regretted that he hadn't insisted on taking Keelin to her hotel. He was finding it harder and harder to focus on what he had to with her so near him. A flash of her remembered sweetness stirred his insides, and he shifted in the driver's seat.

  From the first, he'd experienced a restlessness around Keelin that went deeper than the physical and at times threatened to consume him. Somehow, he'd convinced himself this was the result of his combined distress and animosity and suspicion. He'd really believed Keelin either had something to do with his daughter's kidnapping, or that she was trying to take advantage of his grief.

  Now he knew different.

  And almost wished he didn't.

  SHE COULDN'T BELIEVE IT. Surely they didn't mean to leave her here like this forever.

  Tied up.

  Gagged.

  A prisoner to game shows on the television he'd left on real loud to cover any noises she might make.

  Ever since he'd hauled her back to the apartment, they'd kept her locked up in her room. No more pretense. Not after she'd tried running. Not after she'd told them she knew about the ransom.

  Since then, he'd been the only one she'd seen and darn little of him, at that.

  And now she was alone for who knew how long. He'd told her they couldn't trust her without a guard, not even behind a locked door. So he'd tied her to a chair in the living room. Her hands were already going numb. And the cloth tape across her mouth threatened to choke her.

  If she barfed, she'd suffocate – she'd seen that happen in an action movie once – so she wouldn't throw up. She would sit very still and breathe slowly through her nose.

  She would pretend that everything would be all right. That they would come for her and take her to her dad. That he'd pay anything to get her back.

  She prayed hard that he would as hot tears escaped her eyes and blurred her view of the church steeple across the street.

  A SENSATION ROVING OVER HER FACE and lingering at her mouth made Keelin open her eyes and meet Tyler's gaze. For the first time since they'd finished the greasy fast food they'd purchased and had nearly swallowed whole before leaving the Wicker Park area, she was fully awake. She stared at him, wondering at his odd expression. When she realized he noticed, she let her lids drift half-closed, then placed a comforting hand on his thigh.

  "Don't fall asleep again," Tyler said, his voice a bit gruff. "We're here."

  He turned the Jaguar into the garage across from L&O Realty and waved to the attendant.

  Hesitant, she murmured, "I...had another dream."

  "Cheryl?" He sounded anxious. "She's all right?"

  "I do not believe they've hurt her."

  "What did you see?"

  "The television." She hoped he wouldn't probe more deeply. She couldn't tell him the circumstances. He would go mad if she revealed that Cheryl was bound and gagged. She couldn
't do that to him. "Some game show."

  "She hates game shows."

  "I know."

  "What else? Was anyone with her?"

  "She was alone." Waiting. Trying not to panic. Keelin couldn't tell him that, either. "Tis a pity I could not see more."

  "Nothing?" he asked, unable to hide his disappointment.

  Nothing she could tell him.

  Or was there?

  The thought fled as her stomach twirled when Tyler sped up the ramp too fast and jerked around the corner to his assigned parking spot. She suspected that he was taking out his inner frustration with his vehicle. By the time he cut the engine, Keelin was wide-eyed and sitting up straight. She wanted to comfort him again...if only she knew how.

  They left the car and made for the stairwell.

  "So what now?" she asked softly.

  "What is it you think should happen?"

  She gazed at him with empathy. "I know what I wish would happen. I would like to be able to see the faces of the people holding Cheryl hostage."

  "Yeah, but you're awake, and like you said, you only see through dreams," he said, stirring a memory in her.

  "Unfortunately, I can't fall asleep on command or even guarantee a vision when I do." She was reminded of her disappointment when she'd awakened that morning.

  Curbside, Tyler waited for a break in traffic. "We're amateurs at this. Too involved to be objective. Damn Jeremy Bryant! What good is having a private investigator if he's going to be elusive just when I need him. Maybe Pamela's reached him by now. I'll check on it first thing."

  He placed a hand in the middle of Keelin's back and set across the street. Distracted, she was thinking of the time Moira told her about lucid dreaming. Dreaming when she was awake. Controlled visions. Too bad she'd never explained how to go about it, Keelin thought.

  As they entered L&O Realty, Tyler returned if didn't initiate greetings with his employees. And once upstairs, he ducked into his assistant's office but came right out.

  "Alma, have you seen Pamela?"

  The middle-aged woman shook her head. "She left like a whirlwind a short while ago. Maybe she went to lunch. She usually lets me know, but not today."

  Tyler shrugged. "Tell her I want to see her the moment she returns. Keep anyone else out," he added. "We're not to be disturbed until I tell you otherwise."

  "Yes, Mr. Leighton."

  Glancing from him to Keelin, the receptionist wore a knowing and somewhat smug look. Keelin's face flared with color and she was glad to escape into Tyler's office. What she suddenly wanted was for him to lock the office door and take her in his arms again. Maybe then she wouldn't feel so badly about not telling him all of the dream. She almost got up the courage to approach him and make the first move when a commotion outside the door stopped her cold.

  "I tell you he'll want to see me," came a familiar female protest.

  "He said not until he told me otherwise," Alma returned firmly in a raised voice.

  But Keelin heard the clack of high heels directly outside his office. She exchanged looks with Tyler. Heaving a sigh, he opened the wooden panel. Vivian Claiborne teetered and nearly fell inside.

  "Tyler, there you are," she cooed.

  He looked over her shoulder – the receptionist was coming after the woman – and said, "That's all right, Alma. I can give Miss Claiborne a moment of my time."

  "A moment?" Vivian pouted. "I remember when you gave me all afternoon and then some." Suddenly, as if just noting Tyler hadn't been alone, she told Keelin, "Oops. Pretend you didn't hear that, dear," and waved her off as if Keelin were a hired servant.

  Alma gave Tyler a look of disgust and went back to her desk. Likewise, Keelin turned away and wandered over to the windows. Her shoulders stiff, she chose the view of the park over the green-eyed blonde, hoping to keep herself calm. First the dream she couldn't work up the nerve to tell Tyler about...and now this intrusion.

  She pressed her forehead to the cool glass, barely hearing Tyler's "What do you want, Vivian?"

  For below her, she saw Pamela Redmond rushing into the park, topknot bobbing, looking over her shoulder as if she feared being followed.

  "I thought it only right that I be the first to give you my condolences," Vivian was saying.

  Keelin watched Pamela approach a bench where a man turned to greet her. Brock Olander. Keelin supposed they must be going to lunch together.

  When Tyler asked, "You've heard something about Cheryl?" she tried to keep her attention on the conversation in the room, but below, Pamela seemed to be yelling at Brock.

  "Not your brat, Tyler. Your business."

  "Say what you came to say and leave."

  Brock grabbed Pamela by the shoulders and drew her down to the bench. She tried wresting herself away, but he pulled her to him for an intense kiss.

  "TESTY." VIVIAN RAN HER FRENCH-MANICURED FINGERNAILS up Tyler's tie in a gesture of intimacy. "Though it must be difficult for a man with your determination and drive to lose. And so big."

  "Lose what?" His patience, for one, Tyler thought.

  Then Vivian gleefully dropped the bombshell. "Why the North Michigan Avenue project, of course. Nate Feldman was awarded the contract this morning."

  Tyler started. He hadn't thought the matter would be decided so soon. Perhaps there was some mistake...not that he had the energy to do anything about it.

  Staring at the woman who had been his lover for nearly six months, he was disgusted with himself that he'd been such an idiot. He hadn't been able to see exactly how mistaken he'd been until he compared her with Keelin, of course. Vivian had always sworn she liked his daughter, but he'd seen through that particular act. That should have been a big clue as to her nature.

  "You do enjoy being the harbinger of bad news."

  "Only for you," Vivian stated, her smile nasty. "You might not have properly appreciated me when you had the chance, but Nate certainly does."

  "You and Nate?" Now there was an interesting development.

  "Jealous, darling?"

  "Hardly." When he said, "I'll give the man my condolences the next time I see him," he watched her complexion pinken. "Wake up, Vivian. Nate undoubtedly thinks he can get information on my business from you, but when he realizes how slim the pickings are, he won't have any more use for you."

  The pink deepened to an unbecoming ruddy tone. "I won't be made a fool of by any man!"

  "Don't make statements you can't live up to," Tyler suggested. "Two ex-husbands have already put the lie to those words."

  Her expression wreathed in fury, Vivian spat, "I'll make you regret that, Tyler, if it's the last thing I do!"

  The blonde aimed a hateful glare over his shoulder at Keelin before spinning on her high heels and tromping out of his office, slamming the door behind her.

  And Tyler wondered how he'd been fooled into believing Vivian had been even a little bereft when he'd broken it off.

  "Sorry about the interruption," Tyler said, turning to Keelin.

  When he noted her expression, however, he didn't continue. She was staring at him as if she were looking at something unpleasant.

  "How could you speak to her that way?" she asked in a subdued voice.

  Maybe he had been a bit hard on Vivian, but the woman had asked for it, coming here to gloat. "She's not worth your sympathy, believe me. Vivian takes care of Vivian first. I'm not even certain if anyone comes second."

  "You said something similar about Helen."

  "So I have rotten taste in women." The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think. "Keelin, I'm not including you –"

  "Don't." She raised a hand as if to ward off any advance.

  He considered for a moment. He could force the issue, assure her she was different. Or he could let it go. Let her go. Maybe that would be for the best. To let go now.

  That's the coward's way out, a small voice inside his head insisted.

  Undecided, he wavered for a moment, then finally said, "I have to make a few ca
lls."

  "Yes, your business, of course," she said, her expression unsettled, her tone flat.

  "Calls about Cheryl," he clarified, thinking he'd also better talk to Brock.

  Maybe he could make a deal, agree to split the company as Brock wanted if his partner would give him or at least lend him what he needed in return – the part of the ransom money he hadn't yet been able to raise.

  Seeing that Keelin had already started for the door, he asked, "You're not leaving?"

  "I need some fresh air." Her gaze unflinching, she said, "I have some thinking to do. I shall return, however."

  Tyler watched her go, then, rather than immediately picking up the telephone, he sauntered to the windows facing the park and waited for her to show. When she did, his insides twisted, for he imagined she appeared too vulnerable. A few hours ago, that's the last word he'd have used to describe Keelin McKenna...but now everything was different.

  Or would be if he'd let it.

  Only Tyler wasn't certain he could.

  KEELIN NEEDED TO RENEW HER COMMUNION with nature. She also needed to force Tyler Leighton from her mind for a while. Unfortunately, her approaching Lincoln Park accomplished neither. She stared ahead at the flower beds and trees, but rather than taking pleasure in them, she could think only about the way she'd thrown herself at Tyler earlier.

  A man who openly declared he had rotten taste in women.

  And the way he'd spoken to a woman he had once kept company with...slept with...

  Keelin shuddered.

  The sense of unease followed her straight into the park. She felt as if someone were physically pursuing her down the sidewalk, when she knew the only thing wrong was that her unprecedented actions were preying on her mind. Still, she clutched the strap of her shoulderbag.

  All these years of waiting for the right man...Moira's legacy wanting to be fulfilled...and she'd gone and chosen a man who either didn't respect women...or didn't like them.

  The scene with Vivian had reminded her of what Tyler had done to his ex-wife, of how he'd kept Helen from her own child. She'd conveniently forgotten about that for a while.