See Me in Your Dreams (19 page)

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
calls."

"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.

What was she
to do now?

The sensation
of being followed grew stronger. Thinking to see Pamela or Brock, she glanced
over her shoulder.

But the only
people behind her were a woman pushing a stroller, and behind the young mother,
a man wearing a windbreaker, his capped head bent as he adjusted the portable
radio clipped at his waist.

Nothing to
concern herself over.

The man jogged
past her at an easy clip. Keelin didn't give him a second glance as her
thoughts strayed back to Tyler.

Tyler had
shown a different, appealing side of himself earlier...strong yet
tender...vulnerable yet commanding.

He had enticed
her as no man ever had.

What to do?

The dream
drifted back into her thoughts, undoubtedly because she was feeling a bit
guilty at not having told Tyler. But what purpose would it serve to worry him
further? Poor Cheryl tied up and gagged...

She came to a
foot tunnel that would take her under a street that cut through the park. A
large lagoon supporting both paddle boats and wildlife lay on the other side.
Perhaps she could find some answers there. At home,
Lough
Danaan
had soothed her more times than she could
remember.

Keelin turned
and made her way down the dark, dank tunnel. Walls covered with graffiti.
Lights broken. Litter underfoot. Halfway to the other side, she looked to the
opening ahead. An archway of sunlight. A frame for the large brick building
that sat before the lagoon.

Her feet
slowed.

For a second, the opening was a window, the building a
church...

Her
concentration was broken by feet beating the path behind her. A jogger. She moved
to one side to let the person pass and so was startled when a body rammed her,
knocking her down. Her
shoulderbag
went flying.

"Pardon
me!" she said, getting a glimpse of sunglasses below a billed cap and a
portable radio clipped to the man's waist.

She didn't see
whatever smacked into the side of her head.

Chapter Nine

"THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING,"
came a gravelly and obviously disguised male voice as Keelin noticed the man
wasn't wearing jogging shoes. "Stop trying to help Leighton unless you
want to end up food for the fish in Lake Michigan."

Attempting to
rise, she reached out and grabbed his wrist, then pulled herself up until he
shoved her hard with his free hand. Something gave. She flew into the cement
wall, the object clutched in her hand. Too dizzy to stay on her feet, she sank
back to the ground. And though she tried to get a better look at the man as he
tore down the dark tunnel, she could hardly focus.

Dazed, her
heart beating too fast, she leaned her head against the wall and took deep
breaths. She was going to have one grand headache. Slowly, she recouped her
shoulderbag
which lay several feet away. Then she worked
herself back up to her feet. Her surroundings whirled and her stomach churned.
She was definitely both dizzy and queasy, so she stopped moving. Wondering how
she was going to get herself back to Tyler's office – crawl, perhaps? – she
thought she was hearing things when her name reverberated down the tunnel.

"Keelin!"

"Tyler?"
Bile rose to her throat and she instantly regretted trying to speak at all.

"Are you
all right?" he demanded, twirling her around.

The motion was
too much for her head and stomach. Keelin couldn't help herself. Doubling over,
she lost her greasy lunch...all over Tyler's expensive leather shoes. To his credit,
he didn't even utter a sound of disgust, merely supported her weight. When her
world stopped spinning, she carefully inched herself into a standing position.