Dangerous Attraction Romantic Suspense Boxed Set (205 page)

The second time would be easier.

KEELIN COULD HARDLY CONCENTRATE on the computer screen and the article

Skelly had retrieved about Tyler’s recent successful bid to renovate an old theater into a multi-use arts space. Their earlier fight had been replaying through her head ever since, had kept her from catching up on that lost sleep.

She blamed herself for letting things get out of hand.

Tyler was far too emotionally distressed to be sane. She should have side-railed his anger rather than fueling it. Normally a congenial person, who would do anything to avoid a fight, she couldn’t say why she’d been so contentious.

“I found several more instances when Nate Feldman lost lucrative contracts to L&O Realty.”

Skelly’s voice snapped Keelin back to the research done at her request. Now she was feeling guilty at her disapproving thoughts concerning her cousin. She’d asked for a favor and he hadn’t hesitated to come through for her, even if he had insisted a research assistant had done the work while he’d videotaped this afternoon’s show. She didn’t care how he’d accomplished the task, he’d responded to her need. Perhaps he wasn’t as removed from responsibility toward his fellow human being as he would like her to believe.

“I still cannot fathom how quickly you journalists find information,” she marveled as he sat in a vacant chair and wheeled closer to her.

“Thank the computer age.”

“No, thank
you
.”

Skelly seemed a bit flustered, as if he didn’t know how to respond. Perhaps he wasn’t used to gratitude, Keelin thought. He certainly seemed more comfortable with conflict and pessimism. An outgrowth of his career choice? she wondered. Or had he merely been born with a negative view of life?

“Anyway, Nate Feldman is definitely Leighton’s chief business competitor,” Skelly was saying. “Whether or not he holds a grudge at losing is another question.”

“Did you find anything to link him to Cheryl?”

“Not directly, but hold on. Scoot over a bit.”

Keelin did as he asked, and Skelly moved in on the computer. He sped the mouse around its pad and his fingers over the keyboard, and the images on the computer monitor changed nearly as quickly.

A moment later, they were looking at another page of
The Chicago Tribune
, this in the
Chicagoland
section. The headline indicated a christening of a factory building converted to mini-mall in the Clybourn Corridor. Keelin recognized the event from the video footage in her cousin’s report the day before. Skelly used the mouse to mark the accompanying photograph, then hit a few more keys.

A blink and the picture exploded outward, filling the screen.

Tyler shaking hands with the mayor was the focus of the photograph. Cheryl stood slightly behind her father, nearly out of the frame. And on his other side, between Tyler and the mayor, standing some distance behind…

“Feldman?” Keelin murmured, tapping the image of the balding man.

Skelly nodded. “That’s him. Odd that he showed for a celebration of a job he lost, don’t you think?” He scooted his chair back and faced her. “He may not even have spoken to the girl, but he obviously knew about her.”

“Surely Tyler would have realized as much. Odd that he never mentioned Feldman.”

Or perhaps Tyler had been waiting for
her
to do so. Would he have considered that further proof of her perfidy? she wondered.

“Maybe it never occurred to him that a business rival would be involved,” Skelly mused.

“Perhaps,” Keelin agreed. “Did you learn anything personal about Feldman? Anything about his character that would make him capable of using a child to punish a competitor?”

“I can give you tons of facts and figures about the man, but without hitting the streets and interviewing people who know him, it’d be impossible to analyze him personally.”

And Keelin couldn’t ask her cousin to take the time from his work to do so. Another solution came to her. “Tyler has a private investigator trying to find Cheryl.”

“Checking out Feldman might be a productive use of the man’s time.”

“I’ll suggest as much.”

If
Tyler would speak to her, given the way they’d parted earlier. Hopefully, he would still be in his office. Whatever his reaction might be to her unexpected appearance, Keelin knew she had to brave facing him.

And this time, she would not let Tyler Leighton get under her skin and derail her from her purpose.

TYLER BROODED IN HIS SHADOW-FILLED OFFICE. He’d spent the latter half of the afternoon calling the Hotel Clareton in an attempt to charm Keelin into forgetting his earlier accusations, but she’d up and disappeared on him.

He was so frustrated that a knock at his door made him grouse, “What is it?”

Pamela Redmond poked her head inside, her topknot bobbling. “Is it safe to enter?”

He waved her in. “How come I never tick you off?”

“Who said you don’t?” His assistant raised her eyebrows but appeared as easygoing as always. “Uh, you want some light in here?” Her hand reached toward the wall switch.

“Leave it be.”

He thought better in the semi-gloom. Or maybe it was that the light would make him face things he’d prefer to avoid at the moment.

Pamela forgot about the light and stepped closer to his desk. “I had Mr. Bryant check out Keelin McKenna as you asked me to do.”

Tyler stiffened. Jeremy Bryant was the private investigator he’d hired to find his daughter. “And?”

“As far as he could tell, she’s genuine. No police record on anyone using that name. He couldn’t find any trace of her in this city. Then he used a personal contact – a friend of a friend of a friend, as I understand – to get to Immigration. Keelin McKenna just flew in from Ireland just as she said.”

A weight lifted from Tyler’s chest and he realized he’d been holding his breath. Though he’d thrown around accusations with impunity, he hadn’t wanted them to be true. He’d wanted Keelin to be exactly who and what she claimed to be. While not the last word – a con artist probably could change identities easier than he could change the blueprints for a renovation – Bryant’s research indicated that was the case.

“I appreciate your help.”

Pamela backed off. “Sorry I can’t do more.”

“That makes two of us.” He checked his watch. Almost five. “Go on. Leave. Get back to your life for an evening. Let me brood in peace.”

“Sure.”

Tyler didn’t wait for the door to close behind her. Impatient, he picked up the telephone receiver and hit
redial
, mentally following the rash of beeps that followed.

“Hotel Clareton.”

“Is Miss McKenna in, yet?”

“No, I’m sorry, sir,” came the aggravating reply. “But if you would like to leave
another
message…”

Having left two already, realizing the clerk recognized his voice, Tyler felt foolish. “No message.”

He slammed down the phone. For all he knew, Keelin was in and avoiding him. So what next? He crossed to the windows and stared down at the park. He was trying to come up with some options when his office door opened again.

Thinking Pamela had returned, he gruffly said, “I thought I told you to go home.”

“Of the many desperate things you said to me, that was not among them.”

The Irish lilt plucked at Tyler’s insides, twisted him in knots as he turned to face Keelin. Wreathed in a flowing sunflower yellow jumper-dress over a white T-shirt, her cloud of hair a low simmering flame brushing her shoulders, she was a bright spot against the gloom.

They spoke as one.

“I was an ass.”

“You were frantic for your daughter.”

Tyler realized Keelin had come to make things right with him. She’d chosen to forgive – or at least to ignore – his accusations. Either that, or she was a very, very clever con artist. He had to consider the last option so that guilt wouldn’t stop him from doing what he had to…to cover all bases.

He couldn’t screw up again.

Registering a regretful expression, Tyler moved closer. “It seems emotions were running high on both sides earlier.”

“I wish you could accept me for who I am, Tyler, but if you cannot, you cannot.” Her fingers tightened on the strap of the large leather bag swung over her shoulder. “Your suspicions will not sway me from my purpose.”

He couldn’t be swayed, either, couldn’t afford to lose sight of his plan.

No matter that his investigator had found nothing in the least incriminating about her, Tyler couldn’t let down his guard around Keelin. Too much was at stake. He couldn’t trust anyone or anything but himself.

He began the seduction by saying, “You have a generous heart,” in as sincere a tone as he could manage. He nearly believed it himself.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t respond directly. “I carefully considered what you said earlier. About being closer to Cheryl through her things.”

He started. “You’re talking about coming home with me. You’re willing?”

She nodded. “If you still wish me to.”

“That would be best,” he agreed, crossing the room to her. “We can stop by your hotel and–”

“No need. I brought a few things.” She indicated the leather bag.

So much the better, Tyler told himself. He could begin drawing her in immediately. Keelin’s being in his territory would make his goal that much easier.

So why was he having so much difficulty at working up the proper enthusiasm?

THOUGH TYLER HAD MADE AN ATTEMPT AT AN APOLOGY, Keelin didn’t fool herself into believing he trusted her. She could feel the suspicion simmering below the surface. Not that she blamed him. Not that it mattered. Nothing could sway her from her course of action.

Despite herself, she felt her tension dissipate as they left the city behind and entered the suburbs of the affluent North Shore. The houses along the east side of Sheridan Road were mansions, some clustered together, others solitary and facing the lake. A few even had coach houses that mirrored the main quarters. She caught sight of an outdoor swimming pool on one estate, clay tennis courts on another, and as they kept driving, more and more wooded areas separating the properties.

The ravines.

A thrill shot through her as she envisioned herself – rather Cheryl in her initial dream – stumbling down the incline, brush thrashing around her legs, the sound of turbulent waves battering the shore.

Feeling as if her heart were going to burst.

Keelin’s blood pulsed at an alarming rate, and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself.

“You all right?”

Tyler’s tone held the right amount of concern, and yet Keelin grew more tense. “I’ll survive.”

“We’re almost there. Only a few more minutes.”

A few minutes of curves and hills and ravines that grew deeper and denser. By the time they popped up over a knoll and turned into a drive, Keelin had dug her nails into her seat’s upholstery in anticipation.

Tyler pulled the Jaguar into the shade under the carport. Keelin didn’t wait for him to open her door, rather popped out and breathed in the lake-scented air. Her eyes strayed to the ravine to the south, and again she mentally replayed Cheryl’s escape into the night and wondered if retracing the girl’s steps along the wooded gully would be of any help.

“I’ll take your bag,” Tyler suddenly said, giving her a start. He was directly behind her.

“No. I have it.”

Keelin slung the leather strap over her shoulder and circled the car, making for the entrance with its high double-doors. She would begin inside.

Tyler unlocked the house for her, and she entered as if in a dream. The marble floor whispering beneath her booted feet felt familiar. She recognized the freeform winged sculpture. Passed by the formal living area and went straight for the smaller room off the foyer.

Tyler’s office.

Standing in the doorway and gazing at the heavy mahogany desk, she felt as if she’d actually been inside. Had ransacked his drawers for the money he kept for emergencies.

“You seem mesmerized.”

“It’s all so…odd.” Her pulse danced to a strange rhythm. “I’ve never been here before, and yet…”

“You feel as if you have, through Cheryl.” Tyler wrapped an arm around her back, his hand lightly resting on her shoulder. “I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you,” he said solicitously. “Maybe you’d like to sit down and catch your breath.”

Not unaffected by his touch, Keelin had to fight to remember why she was there. “Her room.”

In a haze, she pulled away from Tyler and turned to the staircase. She slowly climbed. Hesitated halfway. Purposefully tested the next step.

The wood creaked.

And a chill shot up her spine.

Barely aware of Tyler following, she continued ascending and with unerring instinct turned to her right. She kept going until she reached a room halfway down the hall. Keelin opened the door and entered.

No doubt in her mind that this was a teenager’s room. Cheryl Leighton’s bedroom. A place at once both familiar and alien.

In her dream, she’d merely gotten vague impressions of the heart-throb and New Age and sports posters tacked to hot pink walls. The futon Cheryl used as a bed lay open, a worn stuffed dog with a torn ear at its foot, the only indication that the teenager was still a child, the covers mussed as if Cheryl had just risen. A corner wall unit held a computer, sound system and television. Books, videotapes, computer programs and CDs were scattered across nearby shelves, these a brilliant purple. Keelin could see shoes and clothes strewn about the closet. The floor of the private bathroom was also a repository of discarded clothing and a pile of used towels.

“I told the cleaning woman to stay out of here.” Expression grim, Tyler stood at the door as if reluctant to enter, hands stuffed into his trouser pockets. “Stupid, but I keep thinking that nothing is changed…I keep expecting to see Cheryl curled in bed with her headsets on…or at her computer, playing a game or flying through cyberspace.”

Remembering how easily Skelly had whipped along through sources of information using his computer, Keelin nevertheless eyed the electronic contraption warily. She lived several decades separated from the technology that Tyler’s child took for granted. She dropped her leather bag near the futon and circled the room, touching the girl’s things, almost as if she expected to
feel
her.