See Me in Your Dreams (7 page)

"It makes
the connection real for me. I hoped to see something I missed earlier...but I
didn't. Still, it makes tangible what I knew in my heart." Her tone
fervent, she said, "I wish it did for you, as well."

Tyler held
fast to his distrust. "Nothing more? No indications of who might have
found Cheryl? What the person looked like, for instance?"

"I'm not
a psychic," she protested. "At least not in the way you're
suggesting. I can't make predictions. I can't envision places or people I
haven't
seen
through physical contact.
I experience real events and emotions through dreams. That's it."

Keelin rubbed
a lethargic hand across her forehead, and Tyler responded despite himself. She
looked exhausted, as if she could hardly stay on her feet. And there was a
fragility about her that he hadn't noticed before. Not physically, perhaps, but
of spirit.

"Perhaps
I'd better get you to your hotel."

Keelin sighed
and the sound was a weary one. "I could use some sleep."

"And
maybe you'll dream again."

"I cannot
force it," she warned him.

"I'll
take my chances."

Including the
opportunity to talk further with this mysterious woman. If there was one thing
he knew how to do, it was to make members of the opposite sex open up to him.

Tyler
determined that whatever her game, Keelin McKenna would be no exception.

ON THE SHORT RIDE HOME, KEELIN couldn't
rid herself of the bitter aftertaste Tyler Leighton provoked. He'd brought up
all the old insecurities. The feeling of helplessness. Of being thought a liar
or a fool. She couldn't blame him, she supposed, and yet it was difficult to be
generous when it was his daughter she was trying to help.

If only she
could have done this alone.

The Hotel
Clareton
, tucked on a side street of the Gold Coast,
blended perfectly with other limestone and brownstone buildings surrounding it.
Elegant yet understated, the modest establishment offered all the amenities of
a larger hotel with even more personal service.

Swinging open
the Jaguar's passenger door, the liveried doorman said, "Miss McKenna, I
trust you're having a good evening."

Keelin forced
a smile and let the polite inquiry hang.

"Take
care of the car," Tyler said, handing the man a large bill.

"Certainly."
The doorman motioned for a younger uniformed man to come forward and move the
Jaguar.

In a low voice,
Keelin said, "No reason you need to see me to my door."

When Tyler
insisted, "Of course there is," she had the distinct feeling that he
meant to do more than escort her to her suite and leave. Not wanting to argue
the point before the hotel's employees, she spun on her heel and through the
hotel's entry.

Tyler followed
her inside, past a lobby decorated in champagne and gold with touches of palest
pink. Her suite was decorated in similar fashion, the sofa and two chairs in
her sitting room identical to those in the lobby. The walls were a subdued pink
with a gold sheen, warming the flawlessly appointed setting. And the coffee
table held a spray of matching pink tiger lilies as did the chest in the
bedroom. When he stepped inside, she noted Tyler's raised eyebrows and assumed
he was calculating the expense.

Trying to be
subtle, she said, "I really am very tired."

"I
imagine you are," he said, continuing to wander through her temporary
living quarters.

All right, so
she had to be more direct. "I'm trying to end the evening."

"Consider
it ended." He dropped onto the sofa.

Keelin shut
the door so their words wouldn't echo down the hall. "Not with you
here."

While she was
willing to put up with the man for his child's sake, she wouldn't allow him to get
too close for her own. He kept prying under her skin, poking and prodding at
her innermost being. Knowing he had secrets of his own, Keelin suspected he was
exactly the type of man who could get what he wanted from her if he kept at it.

The type of man
she made a point of avoiding.

"I'm not
going elsewhere," he stated.

Keelin feared
the consequences if she didn't set boundaries. Drawing closer, she crossed her
arms over her chest. "You cannot stay in my rooms."

"You
certainly can't expect me to drive back to North Bluff. If you have one of your
visionary
dreams, it would take me
better than a half hour to get back here, even in the middle of the night. Then
how would we get to Cheryl in time?"

Unable to miss
his sarcasm even as he made a sensible point, Keelin settled into a high-backed
chair opposite him. "So what are you proposing?"

"That I
spend the night on your sofa. Don't worry, I have no desire to invade your
bedroom."

"That
never occurred to me," she hedged, the vision clear in her mind the moment
he put words to it.

"No?"
His eyebrows lifted fractionally, as if he knew better. "You seem
tense." He looked around the room, his gaze settling on a drink cart.
"A little brandy would do us both good."

Did he hope
liquor would loosen her up? Or loosen up her tongue? Keelin thought the latter.
Let him try. He couldn't wring from her a truth he suspected she was hiding,
not when she was innocent of any wrongdoing.

While he
decanted the brandy, the red glow on her telephone finally caught her eye.
Realizing a message awaited her, she picked up the receiver, read the
instructions and punched in the code to retrieve it. So many technical advances
in this America of her relatives...and her used to a far more simple life.

"Hey,
cous
, Skelly here. Call
me first thing in the morning, would you? I've got some info on Tyler Leighton
that I think you need to know."

A beep was
followed by an electronic voice telling her she had no more messages.

What could her
cousin have learned about Tyler? she wondered. Something she needed to
know...And Skelly's tone had seemed a bit ominous.

She hung up
just as Tyler made himself comfortable on the sofa and handed her a glass.

"Who was
that?"

"My
cousin. Family business."

Feeling the
heat creep up her neck, Keelin cursed her inability to tell the smallest of
untruths without telegraphing the fact. But if Tyler noticed the flush
spreading up into her face, he didn't say a word. His expression blank –
purposely so? she wondered – he seemed content in his silence until her glass was
half-empty.

"So why
don't you make an effort to convince me?" he finally suggested.

He didn't have
to be more specific. Keelin knew he was referring to her ability. "I'm not
certain that I can."

"Me,
neither, but you can start with whatever you're holding back," he
suggested. "The thing that makes finding Cheryl so important to you."

"I doubt
anything I tell you will change your mind."

"Try
me."

Tyler sounded
as if he were serious. And the way he was looking at her, as if he were
afraid
to trust her, touched Keelin.
Sensing he meant what he said, that he really wanted to be convinced, she
didn't see any harm in relating the first part of the story.

"After
Gran explained everything to me," she began, "I hated the fact that I
was different. But I couldn't change things, couldn't run away from who I was.
I felt the huge responsibility she spoke of in my heart and in my soul."

"How old
were you?"

"Fifteen."

"Not much
older than Cheryl. Heavy stuff for a kid..."

Keelin could
almost hear him mentally adding
if it's
true
.

"The
dreams always sprang from strong emotions," she went on. "Sometimes
good emotions, sometimes bad, but always very, very intense."

"And the
bad ones upset you?"

Keelin nodded.
"Of course, though they weren't anything of great significance
until..." She took another sip of her brandy for courage. Sharing this
still wasn't easy. "My closest chum was a schoolmate. Deirdre Flanagan.
One night, I saw her being molested – I
felt
her being molested and fighting a boy we both knew. I woke up near-hysterical,
made Da ring the constable. I was certain I was reporting a crime in
progress." The painful memories washed over her. "When they were
caught together, Deirdre told the constable that Tully O'Meara was her new
boyfriend and that he hadn't done anything she hadn't wanted." She took a
deep breath. "Afterward, she and my other schoolmates froze me out for
telling."

"But even
if you were wrong, you were trying to help her."

"And I'm
not certain that I wasn't correct. In my heart, I believe that Deirdre was
raped...but I suppose she thought admitting to it would put more of a stigma on
her than if people merely thought she fell from the virtuous path."

"So she
lied to save face."

"And in
so doing made me an outcast. A subject of jest. This from a good friend,"
Keelin said sadly, remembering as if the betrayal had just happened. "I
wanted to die of embarrassment."

"Being a
social outcast as a teenager would be traumatic," Tyler admitted.
"But if you're saying that's your motivation, the reason that you've got
to find Cheryl –"

"No."

After abruptly
cutting him off, Keelin splashed back the last of her brandy and reveled in the
smooth burn of the liquor as it slid down he throat. This is what she
could not
speak of. What she had never
told anyone but her confessor. The burden she'd carried around with her. The
guilt she could never wash away completely. Day after day, year after year,
she'd thought it impossible to redeem herself.

But maybe
she'd been wrong.

Maybe finding
Cheryl Leighton before something terrible happened to the girl was her chance
at last.

She set down
the empty glass on the table next to her.

"I'm
saying ‘tis the reason that, for many years, I chose to ignore the ability I
inherited from my grandmother. And there were terrible consequences to be
paid." An image of Galvin Daley's body caught in the shallows of
Lough
Danaan
danced in her head.
Her eyes stung with the vision that haunted her. "I can not let that
happen again."

"So
exactly what was it that happened?"

"That's
all I'll be telling you," Keelin insisted, bouncing up from her chair,
head down so he wouldn't see the tears trembling on her lids.

Tyler was
equally quick. Before she could get around him, he'd blocked her path, and his
hands were encasing her arms again. "Tell me."

"No!"
Her refusal was a ragged cry.

"I think
you need to talk about it."

Slowly, Keelin
raised her head, forced herself to look at Tyler. Her pulse surged. What she
saw etched in his features startled her. Empathy. Concern. For her?

But it
couldn't be.

"What do
you care about my needs?" she asked softly, aware of his fingers burning
into the flesh of her arms. "You think I'm a fraud. That I am out to trick
you of your precious money. Not everyone is motivated by greed."

The sensation
spread, making her want to move closer, to feel those arms around her. She
needed succor, and yet she could not ask for it, because she could not be
totally honest.

"Experience
tells me different."

"I live a
comfortable life and that's enough for me. Can you say the same?" With that
she shrugged free and tore into her bedroom. "You can see yourself
out."

Keelin slammed
the bedroom door and set the lock, then threw herself across the four-poster
bed. She fisted the pink satin quilt and squeezed. Willed herself not to cry. Too
many tears already. Her heart was hammering in her breast so hard she thought
she might be sick.

She hadn't
meant to defend herself. But that's what she had done, had nearly pleaded for
Tyler's trust. Why? He didn't have to trust her. He only had to go along with
her. She knew that. And also knew she wanted more.

This made no
sense, this connection she'd felt from the moment he'd faced her in his
offices, this charged undercurrent between them that swayed and dipped and
suddenly rushed over her with an intensity that frightened her. Simply stated,
Tyler Leighton made her uncomfortable.

He was too
complex, too powerful.

And something
inside him was too dark.

She should
have backed off the moment she sensed the danger, and yet, instead, she came
closer like moth to flame. Despite his distrust of everything she stood for,
she was drawn to him. As he was to her, she realized.

What was wrong
with her? Keelin wondered. Why had she suddenly lost her good sense? She'd
spent her adulthood on guard. Setting boundaries. Maintaining distances.
Keeping herself safe.