Forbidden Territory & Forbidden Temptation: Forbidden Territory / Forbidden Temptation

But he was waiting in her kitchen, the morning paper spread out in front of him, a mug of steaming coffee sitting to one side. He looked up when she entered. “The nice cat has been fed. The psycho one refused to eat anything I gave her.”

Lily glanced at the four open cans of cat food on the counter, her lips curving with amusement.

She picked up the tuna, Jezebel’s favorite, and emptied it in one of the cat bowls. Jezebel went straight to it and started eating.

“Spoiled brat,” McBride murmured.

“Thank you for calling in for me.” Lily poured herself a cup of coffee and joined McBride at the table before taking a sip. Strong and hot, the coffee burned going down, making her eyes water.

“I figured you’d be too sore from the accident to deal with a bunch of eight-year-olds.” His gaze dropped to her throat. “Do those bruises hurt much?”

“Not too much.” She lifted a hand to her neck. He was being too nice to her. It made her feel self-conscious.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I found your sisters’ phone number in your address book and called to let them know you’d been in an accident. I talked to the one named Rose.”

Lily bit back a smile at the look on his face. Two minutes on the phone with Rose had probably confused the hell out of him. Her ebullient sister was Lily’s polar opposite.

Her smile faded. It hadn’t always been that way.

“She said she would be here before noon.”

Lily frowned. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

His expression became shuttered. “She insisted. Besides, I’ve got to get out of here soon—I have a meeting at nine. I’ve called for a patrol to come by your house every thirty minutes, just in case there’s any trouble.”

She set her coffee cup down, her stomach clenching. “Are you expecting trouble?”

He gave her a considering look. “You tell me.”

Ah, there was the McBride she knew. Suspicious by nature. “I didn’t imagine the phone call from the kidnapper. You heard him. You also saw that car run me off the road. Unless you think I arranged that, too?”

His only answer was a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“Because it makes so much sense to risk life and limb on the off chance that you left Andrew Walters’s hotel room right after I did, and took the same detour I took.”

“Well, you do claim to be a psychic,” he pointed out.

“I don’t claim to be anything.” She picked up her coffee cup and took it to the sink, emptying the dark liquid down the drain. She’d had about all she could take of McBride and his coffee for one day. “All I’ve ever said is that I see things other people don’t.”

“Potato, potah-to,” he murmured in her ear.

She turned and found him inches away. “What do you want from me?” Her own voice came out soft as a whisper.

His half smile faded. “I want you to stay away from Andrew Walters. His life is turned upside down, and he’s clinging to anything that’ll make his world stop shaking. Including you.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Walters thinks you can find his daughter. That makes you the most important person in his life right now.”

Lily frowned, not liking what he was implying. “Look, I know you didn’t like finding me at Mr. Walters’s hotel, but I assure you—”

“What do you think will happen to Walters if you don’t deliver Abby in the end?” McBride asked.

A flicker of uncertainty ran through her. What if she couldn’t? Was she giving the man false hope?

“You’re telling Andrew Walters that his little girl is all right, that there’s still a chance he’ll find her again. Do you really know that?” McBride edged closer. “What happens if tomorrow we find Abby’s body in a ditch somewhere? How much harder is that going to be for the man?”

Her throat tightened, his soft words painting vivid pictures in her mind. “Stop it.”

McBride suddenly looked tired. “I don’t mean to hurt you, Lily. But there are too damn many odds against her.” His voice was so flat and faraway, she hardly recognized it. “So please, don’t give Walters any false encouragement. Okay?”

“Am I supposed to pretend I never heard of Abby Walters?” Tears blurred Lily’s vision. “She’s a scared little girl who saw her mommy die, and now she’s all alone with two very bad men. I won’t abandon her in that dark place.”

McBride took a deep breath. “Then come to me instead of Walters. Tell me about your visions.”

Wariness flitted through her. “Tell you?”

“I promise I’ll look into everything you tell me.” He looked queasy, but his gaze remained steady.

“Mr. Walters expects me to stay in touch.”

“I’ll tell him you’re part of my investigation and you’ll be reporting to me now.” McBride took a step back. “Deal?”

She licked her lips, realizing that he’d just played her—and that it had worked. She would do what he asked. “You won’t ignore what I tell you?”

“I’ll follow every lead you give me.”

She put her hand over her mouth, wondering if she was making a mistake. But when she dropped her hand, it was to say, “Okay, it’s a deal.”

The look of satisfaction in his eyes made her immediately regret giving in so easily. But she quelled her doubts; she could always break her end of the deal if he broke his.

She released a pent-up breath. “So what do I do, call you if I have a vision? And I guess you’ll want me to write down everything I see, right?”

He seemed flummoxed by the question, as if he hadn’t quite thought past manipulating her into staying away from Andrew Walters. Beneath the confusion, a darker emotion burned in his narrowed eyes.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Yes, write everything down.”

Lily pushed her hair back from her face. “Is this going to be a problem for you?”

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his expression shuttered. “No. No problem.”

She studied his face, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He could hide his emotions as well as almost anyone Lily knew, although he couldn’t quite cover up the dark place inside him. It roiled, black and deep, just under the surface.

He took a step toward the doorway. “I should go. I need to head home and change.”

She walked him to the door, leaning against the jamb as he took his jacket from the coat rack. He paused next to her, turning to meet her uplifted gaze.

“Call if you need me.”

Heat bloomed deep in her belly. “I will.”

He leaned in, and she rose on her toes to meet him halfway, as if drawn by a microscopic thread, the pull of his body intense and powerful. She curled her hand around his neck and brushed her lips against his. She’d expected combustion, but instead, the sweetness of the kiss washed over her in a river of warmth. She relaxed, giving in to the velvety caress of his mouth on hers.

When he gently broke away, coldness seeped into the marrow of her bones.

McBride stepped back onto the concrete stoop, gathering his coat around him to ward off the chill. Lily closed the door, needing the distance, the barrier between them.

But she remained there, her cheek against the door, long after she heard his car drive away.

* * *

ROSE ARRIVED AROUND TEN, laden with an overnight case, bran muffins and a thermos. “Iris sent buckbean tea.” Rose hugged Lily. “You okay? McBride said you got a little banged up.”

“I’m fine.” Lily took the basket of muffins from her sister and led her inside. “My car’s totaled, though.”

Rose dropped her bag on the floor by the sofa and followed Lily to the kitchen. She glanced at the two coffee cups in the sink. “So, this McBride—is he cute?”

Lily put the muffins on the counter and gave her sister a warning look.

Rose bent and picked up Delilah, who had wound herself in a knot around her legs. “Hello, gorgeous.” She rubbed the cat’s ears until Delilah purred like a motor-boat. “Iris would’ve come, but she’s almost figured out some mix of bat’s wings and eye of newt that’ll relieve menstrual cramps in half the usual time, and far be it from me to stand in the way of such a miracle.”

Lily pulled the plastic wrap off the basket and picked out a couple of muffins for herself and Rose. “Put my cat down and pour us some tea.”

Rose poured two cups and joined Lily at the kitchen table, moving aside the newspaper McBride had left folded on the table. “So really—who is this McBride and why did he spend the night with you?”

Heat rushed up Lily’s neck and spilled into her cheeks. She touched the edge of the newspaper at her elbow, trying to hide her reaction. But the paper only reminded her that McBride had sat here reading this paper only a few hours earlier, looking sleepy and disheveled and utterly irresistible.

“Ooh, Lil, you’re blushing!” Rose leaned forward, her expression eager. “Spill it!”

Lily gave her sister a stern look. “McBride’s the head of the task force investigating Abby Walters’s abduction.”

“Ooh, and you’re working with him? Because of your visions?”

“Kind of.” Lily caught her up with all that had happened since they’d spoken on the phone the night before.

Rose’s eyes widened with horror. “Someone ran you off the road? McBride just said it was an accident.”

“I don’t know who it was or why he wanted to hurt me,” Lily admitted. “It doesn’t make any sense—the kidnapper who called me the other day seemed to want me to give Andrew a message. But maybe I spooked him when he realized I’d seen him hit Abby.”

“Have you had more visions since then?”

“Yeah. A really strange one.” Glad for a sympathetic ear, Lily told Rose about the second little girl who’d appeared in her visions of Abby. “It was so strange. It was like she’d been watching Abby and me.”

Rose’s eyes glittered. “Creepy!”

“It didn’t feel creepy, though,” Lily said. “At first, maybe, but after that it seemed sort of sweet. How she’d been watching over Abby.”

“You think she knows Abby?”

“I think she’s connected somehow. Maybe a cousin or something. Something about her looks familiar.”

“Why would Abby’s cousin come to you in a vision?”

Lily shrugged. “I’d love to ask Andrew Walters about the little girl, but I promised McBride I’d stay away from him.”

Before Rose could respond, Jezebel jumped from the counter onto the kitchen table, knocking over Lily’s tea.

“Jezzy!” Rose jumped up to avoid the liquid spreading toward her.

Lily shooed the cat away and crossed to the counter to retrieve a roll of paper towels to mop up the mess, while Rose grabbed the newspaper off the table to keep it from getting wet.

When Lily dumped the soaked towels and returned to the table, she found Rose gazing at the paper, a strange light in her eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

Rose turned the paper around, showing Lily a front-page photo of McBride and a couple of detectives Lily didn’t recognize, manning phones at police headquarters.

Rose pointed to McBride. “This is McBride, isn’t it?

Lily nodded, chill bumps rising on her arms. The picture caption didn’t identify him by name. “How’d you know?”

Rose’s grin split her face from ear to ear. “Sugar, he’s the man you’re going to marry.”

CHAPTER NINE

MCBRIDE WATCHED THE cable news interview through narrowed eyes, a little unnerved by how well Andrew Walters was holding together under the camera lights. The man was smooth, well-spoken and engaging. The camera loved him.

No wonder he was in politics.

“I’m grateful for everyone’s support. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.” Walters looked straight at the camera, his chin up, his eyes soft with emotion. “Please remember to keep your eyes open. Be aware of who’s around you. That little redhead you see in the grocery store could be my daughter.”

“He’s good,” FBI Special Agent Cal Brody murmured.

McBride glanced at the agent. Brody was a lean, rangy man with the sharp eyes of a hunter. He said little and missed nothing. And he looked just as bemused as McBride felt.

“He has an alibi,” McBride responded, aware what the agent’s dry words were implying. “And no discernible motive.”

“What about his opponent?”

“If Blackledge was behind it, he screwed up. Walters’s poll numbers are way up since his daughter disappeared.” A niggle of unease crept under McBride’s collar as he spoke.

“Motive.” Brody echoed the path of McBride’s thoughts.

McBride pressed his lips together, considering the idea of Walters as the mastermind behind his daughter’s kidnapping. Was it possible? His alibi was airtight, so he’d have had to hire someone else to make the snatch…

No. Until this morning, when he’d arrived to find Walters up to his elbows in campaign discussions with his campaign manager, Joe Britt, McBride had never seen the man as anything other than a desperate, heart-sick father.

But Walters had a job to do, just like McBride.

When Brody joined McBride and Walters that morning, he’d gone over the FBI’s game plan. “We think we’ve figured out this guy’s trace-blocking system, so we should be able to pinpoint him when he calls today. We get his location, we strike, we grab him.” Brody had looked at Walters. “I understand you don’t believe he’s legitimate.”

“Lily is sure he’s a fraud,” Walters had said.

“Lily?” Brody had asked.

“She’s a psychic who’s helping us find Abby,” Walters had said before McBride could stop him. McBride had braced himself for the agent’s reaction.

Brody’s only response had been a quick glance at McBride.

Walters had managed to stay away from the topic of Lily for most of the day, distracted by a Birmingham television news crew who’d arrived to interview him about his missing daughter.

McBride wished he were as easily distracted. He couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Lily Browning.

The crew wrapped up the interview, broke down their equipment and left. Walters went to change clothes, leaving McBride alone with Brody.

“How closely did you look at him?”

“Verified his alibi. Checked his bank account to see if there were any odd outputs of money, but he is in the middle of a senate run. There’ve been outlays. But they seem legit.”

Brody shrugged. “From what I know about Blackledge, if Walters had any skeletons, they’d be out of the closet already.”

Brody was right. Walters knew what it was like to live under scrutiny. It was only reasonable he’d hold up under pressure better than the average guy with a missing daughter.

Walters returned to the sitting room, minus his jacket and tie. “I hope that earns us a few more eyeballs.”

Odd phrasing, McBride thought. But the trill of a phone diverted his attention.

It was the dedicated line.

McBride glanced at Brody. The fed nodded. Andrew Walters sank onto the sofa and took a deep breath.

As they’d agreed, McBride answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Walters. Remember me?”

McBride recognized the voice from the surveillance tape. He squeezed the receiver tightly. “I remember.” He smoothed his gravelly voice to sound more like Walters.

“We want five hundred grand in tens and twenties, dropped in the waste bin at the corner of 10th and Maple. Tomorrow night at eleven-thirty. We’ll be watching, so don’t be stupid.”

“That’s a lot of money to get together by then.”

“Don’t jerk me around, Walters. You’re worth fifty times that. Eleven-thirty tomorrow night.” The man’s voice quavered despite his attempt to sound tough. “And no cops, got it? I smell so much as a whiff of bacon, the kid is dead.”

McBride gritted his teeth. “You’ll have Abby there?” He wondered if the FBI techs had been able to get a trace yet.

“Just be there.” There was a click, then a dial tone.

A second later, an FBI surveillance tech burst through the door. “We’ve got him!”

* * *

LILY STARED AT her sister. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, you’re going to marry McBride.” Rose was matter-of-fact, as if she’d just said Lily was having waffles for breakfast. “I just now saw a true-love veil, your face over his. You know what that means.”

Lily shook her head. No matter how attractive she found McBride, she couldn’t believe he was her “one true love.” They’d never find common ground enough to be together forever.

“He’s the man in the dream I had, the man you’re going to be madly in love with, remember? You find his daughter….” Rose stopped, frowning. “Does McBride have a daughter?”

“I don’t think so.” None she knew of, anyway. McBride wasn’t the most forthcoming man she’d ever met. “I think you’re off the mark this time.” A queasy feeling settled in her stomach. “For all I know, he’s happily married.”

Which would shine a new, unwelcome light on their recent kisses, she realized with a sinking heart.

Rose frowned. “I’m never wrong about these things.”

“Trust me, whoever the mystery man is, it’s not McBride.” She changed the subject. “How’s business?”

“Pretty good. Right now I’m working on a wedding in Willow Grove and one over in Talladega. I think—”

The jangling phone interrupted her. Lily shrugged apologetically and answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Lily? It’s Andrew Walters. They traced the call!”

Lily’s stomach flipped. “Really?”

“I’m heading to the station to wait for them to arrive with the suspect.” Andrew paused, tension buzzing over the phone line. “Are you sure he doesn’t have Abby?”

About to reassure him, Lily remembered McBride’s warning. What if she was wrong? What if she built up Andrew’s hopes, only to have all her visions turn out to be nothing but delusions?

It didn’t matter, she realized. “McBride won’t let anything happen to Abby.” He’d die before he’d let her get hurt. It was the one thing Lily was sure about.

“Will you come to the police station? I need you there.”

Lily hesitated, remembering her promise to McBride. But she needed to be there. Already she was pumped with adrenaline; sitting here in ignorance for hours, waiting for news, would be too excruciating to contemplate. “On my way.”

“Where’re you going?” Rose asked when she hung up.

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