3
Sizzling beneath his gaze, Cassandra jumped out of her chair, whacking her knee on the table. “Crap.”
She half-limped back to the coffee table to refill her cream-colored cup, but she stole a glance at Mr. Yummy. With his tight blue jeans hugging his long legs, his long black hair falling across his shoulders and tight sweater, all he needed was a Harley Davidson and he could be a sexy hell’s angel. He got up and she jerked, splashing hot coffee on herself and the counter. “Shit!” She waved her hand. “Shit, shit.” She wiped her burning hand on her pants. Hoping no one noticed, she grabbed a cloth and mopped up the spill.
Turning around, she bumped into a hard wall of muscle and staggered backward. Someone grabbed her, steadying her. “Are you all right?”
His deep brown eyes mesmerized her. Her knee throbbed but she couldn't care less. His firm touch sent tingles through her and he smelled of cinnamon. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it fast. She couldn’t help focusing on his wicked lips. An urge to kiss him, to see if he tasted like cinnamon swept over her. God, she was a snow bunny in heat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
“I doubt that,” he murmured. He released her arm, stepped around her and filled his cup. He sauntered back to his table like a black panther.
The group of women wandered away from their table. She tried to maneuver between them and tried not to spill her coffee. The ladies cast admiring glances at the man as he sat at his table. He was honey to hungry bees.
Lilly slurped her spoon. “Tall, dark and handsome. My favorite man candy.” She leaned close to Cassandra. “With those steamy looks, he could melt the snow outside.”
Cassandra wanted to shake her, tell her to back off, and stake her claim, but she gripped her coffee cup tight to keep from strangling Lilly. “He’s the best looking guy I’ve seen for a long time, and I just slammed into him like a mindless snowboarder.”
Lilly smiled. “Sure, you did.”
“It was an accident. I swear.”
Lilly lifted a forkful of eggs to her mouth. “Honey, you’ve haven’t been able to take your eyes off him.”
“Neither have you.”
“So?” Lilly shrugged. “If I had bumped into him, I wouldn’t have ran and hid like a scared fawn.”
“I didn’t shy away.”
“Then why are you talking to me and not to him?”
Cassandra sipped her coffee, not wanting to argue with Lilly.
Lilly glanced at dream man and gave him one of her seductive smiles. Men tripped over themselves to get to her wild gypsy looks, her long, curly black hair, violet eyes and high cheekbones. When she wanted a guy, he never had a chance.
Cassandra sighed. She couldn’t compete. Not that Cassandra couldn’t get men. Then again, she wasn’t foolish enough to challenge Lilly either.
Lilly tilted her head. “He keeps looking over here.”
He leaned back on his chair and boldly held her gaze, not appearing the least bit embarrassed she caught him. A sinking pint of disappointment weighed heavy in Cassandra’s gut. Lilly’s charms must have captured him. She’d already lost. “Then go talk to him.” Her voice came out sharper than she’d intended.
Lilly put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her folded hands. “He really resembles the guy from your dreams?”
“Just forget it.”
“Cassandra, for months, all I’ve ever heard about is this man in your dreams and now he’s here, you’re ready to toss him into a dung heap like you’ve done with every other guy.”
Too shaken to combat Lilly’s lawyer needling, Cassandra mumbled, “I haven’t tossed them.” She was too busy sorting out her feelings about mystery man. Did she have a chance with him? Could she talk to him without stuttering like a fool?
“Yes, you have. Left a long line of piled broken hearts, including Luke’s.”
“Give me a break? Luke?”
“He told me he slept with Diana, because you wouldn’t. He’s never had anyone turn him down before except you.”
“So, you want me to feel sorry for him?”
“No, just understand him. He said he still cares about you.”
Glaring, Cassandra folded her arms across her chest. “And you believed him?”
“I don’t know. He’s such a player who could tell. But players do have feelings.”
Was she talking about Luke or herself? Cassandra tapped her foot nervously on the floor, trying to decide whether she had led Luke on.
Lilly. Lilly grew bored with the men she dated and was always on the lookout for some new conquest. “Look Cassandra. You and I have never competed for a guy for a reason.”
“Yeah, I’d lose.”
“No, honey. We’re friends. Besides, what makes you think you’d lose? You got Luke didn’t you?”
“You wanted Luke?”
Lilly shrugged. “Your friendship means a lot to me. If you want this guy…”
Fear pooled in her stomach. Dreaming about the man was one thing. She had control in the dream, free to do what she wanted, but this, this was real. What could she say to the man? “Lilly, I don’t…”
“You’re a liar. Now, go get him.”
She froze. What if dream man didn’t want her? Luke would laugh, telling her she deserved it. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, go on.”
He was sitting reading the paper. No way was she going to interrupt him. Lilly would have no problem sliding into the empty chair next to him and getting his attention, but Cassandra broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it. Her stomach growled.
“I’m hungry.” She darted from the table.
“Chicken.”
Ignoring Lilly, she hurried to the buffet table, filled her plate with homemade waffles, fresh blueberries and syrup.
He still sat in his seat. Alone. Good. She couldn’t stand to see him flirt with another woman. Even if she was too chicken to talk with him.
She returned to her table and bit into the blueberries, relishing their tart, sweet, juicy flavor. Definitely her favorite fruit. She shoveled three more bites.
“You’re eating the way a death row inmate eats his last meal.”
Damn Lilly. Mr. Hottie was glued to his paper. God, the man dwarfed his chair. Why did Lilly have to point out every little thing she did wrong? When did she become Ms. Manners. “Well, I, uh, wanted to hit the slopes.”
Lilly leaned closer. “Do I appear stupid to you? You’re the Queen of Avoiders.”
“What? No, I’m not.”
“Look, I know you want him. Get him before someone else does. Your beautiful, Cassandra. He’d be a damn fool to let you go.”
Easy for Lilly to say. She didn’t turn into a stuttering buffoon around good-looking men. “Lilly, we’re not in seventh grade anymore.”
“You’re the one who’s in love with a dream guy and now his twin is sitting over there, you’re going to blow him off?”
“I’m not blowing him off. He’s interested in you.”
Lilly rolled her eyes. “Cassandra, you don’t know that. Now, go say something. Anything. Rather than sitting here like a shivering snowwoman.”
“Lilly, stop.”
“You’re chickening out again. He’s getting coffee.” Lilly glanced at Cassandra’s cup. “You’re out. Go get some.”
“Lilly, I don’t—”
Lilly patted Cassandra’s thigh. “If you don’t go over there and, at least, introduce yourself and ask him his name, I’m inviting him here for breakfast.”
Cassandra couldn’t face him. Not after the dream. He was way out of her league. “You wouldn’t.” The dream man’s words haunted her. He’d promised she would find out his name and—no this was a coincidence. It was a dream. Just a dream.
Her eyes twinkling, Lilly started to get up.
“Fine, I’ll go.” Forcing her wobbly legs to move, Cassandra clutched her mug, her nails digging into her palm, and headed to the coffee table. Pain would keep her mind straight. Hopefully.
Heart pounding and hands sweaty, she brushed up next to him and inhaled his cinnamony scent. Crap, her hormones were going into over drive.
Concentrate. Concentrate. Concentrate.
She ached to grab his shoulders, whirl him around and kiss him. What if he did? It would be too much, too real, too terrifying.
He poured cream into his mug and stirred.
“Hi,” Cassandra said too loudly. Why had she let Lilly goad her?
Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you always say ‘hi’ so angrily?”
“What do you mean? You don’t know me, and, for your information, I’m not angry.”
“Then why do you have a scowl on your face?”
She was so not good at this. “No, I don’t.”
“Ah, so your idea of a smile is to furrow your eyebrows together, push out your upper lip and narrow your eyes?”
“I’m not mad.” Her cheeks heated and she had no doubt she resembled a cherry tomato. Her hand shaking, she refilled her cup and pretended that it was more fascinating than him Yeah, right. This wasn’t working. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting as if he just peed in her coffee?
“So, are you a skier?”
“No.”
He lifted his eyebrow.
“I mean yes. If you’ll excuse me, you’re in my way.”
“I sure as shit wouldn’t want to see you when you are mad.”
“I told you I’m not mad.”
Before she could finish, he moseyed to his chair. She might as well hand him to Lilly on a silver platter. She hurried back to Lilly and tripped over her chair. “Happy?”
Lilly shook her head. “God, Cassandra, what is wrong with you? I’ve never seen you turn into Medusa around a guy before. I'm surprised your hair didn't coil into snakes and bite the poor guy. Why are you acting this way?”
“I don’t know. Come on, let’s go.” Eyes forward, Cassandra hastened out of the dining room.
“Okay, Princess Charming.” Lilly half-jogged to keep up. “Now we’re racing back to the room so you don’t have to run into this guy?”
“I made a freaking fool out of myself.”
“If you wanted to annihilate the guy, I think you succeeded.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“What was your intention?”
She threw open their door, not wanting anyone to hear what she was going to say. What if someone heard, especially him? Lilly walked in and Cassandra closed the door. “Lilly, he scares me.”
Lilly frowned. “Why?”
“Because I want him so much.”
“Okay, that doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. I’m a hot mess.”
“Well, I’ve got to pack Miss Hot Mess.”
As Lilly packed, Cassandra leaned against the wall by the window facing Galena Street. The window frosted and goose bumps ran over her skin.
She twisted the smooth silver ring on her right hand, the circular motion sending tingles through her and the tension in her muscles relaxed. A shadowy cowboy figure stood on the corner on Galena Street next to a statue of a hawk. The ghost tipped his white cowboy hat at a young woman walking a barking and growling husky. She yanked the dog’s chain.
What would the woman do if he she knew her dog protected her from a ghost? People should learn to trust their animals.
“What are you gawking at? Is that guy outside?”
“No, he’s not,” Cassandra muttered and stopped playing with her ring. She refused to give Lilly something else to tease her about. The ghost faded along with the chill. Lilly didn’t believe in the supernatural and Cassandra kept her secret to herself. She had enough teasing as a child to last a lifetime.
Lilly snapped her suitcase shut. “Done packing.” She set her suitcase at the door and stretched out her arms. “Come give me a hug, girl.”
Cassandra gave her a big hug, enveloped in the scent of oranges, lemon and peaches—Calvin Klein’s Obsession and Lilly’s favorite fragrance. “Have a safe trip.”
“I will.” Lilly picked up her bag, carried it out the door, and winked. “Good luck with your dream boat.” Laughing, she shut the door.
Wanting to get out of the hotel and forget about breakfast, Cassandra flung on her white parka and put on her sunglasses and gloves. She sprinted down the hallway and downstairs to the ski lockers. She gathered her poles, tossed her skis over her shoulder and ran to her Pathfinder. The last thing she wanted to do was run into her dream lover. Skiing would help her forget everything. Time to hit the slopes like a pro.
As she leaned skis and poles against her silver Pathfinder, a slamming car door startled her, and they crashed to the ground. She whirled, but no one was in the parking lot. Nobody had gotten into the black Jeep across the street or the red truck in the driveway.
Strange.
On top of the Galena Mountain Street Inn, the rooster weather vane creaked and crept around, pivoted back in the opposite direction as if someone had flicked it. A few feet from her car, a pine tree rustled, toppling snow onto the ground. Goosebumps ran over her skin, raising hair on her arms and the back of her neck.
Nothing’s there.
Hoping she was right, Cassandra gathered her skis and poles, pitched them into the back of the SUV, and slipped inside. She squealed onto Main Street. A car honked.
“Shit!” She nearly jumped through the sun roof. In her review mirror, a couple teenage guys, in a large blue truck yelled something. Biting back a retort, she goosed it and drove. She turned up the heater, dispelling the last of her chills.
Something had been there. Watching her. Her hand shaking, she turned on the CD player and rocked to ACDC’s You Shook Me All Night Long. Thumping the steering wheel, she pulled onto the highway and buried the eerie feeling.
God, it was beautiful up here. High, snowcapped mountains lined the highway. The snow-frosted pines and aspen trees reminded her of Christmas. She maneuvered her SUV through heavy traffic to the free parking at the Corn Lot and parked her SUV. She quickly buckled her boots, put on her gloves, flung her skis over her shoulders and headed for the ski bus.
Waiting for the bus, she stood next to a young kissing couple. She and Luke had been ski partners. With his long, blond hair and green eyes, he could be a movie star or an Olympic champion. She had been the envy of all her friends, but when he kissed her, she’d froze. If he tried to initiate anything more intimate than a kiss, she huddled into her shell the way a frightened tortoise retreated from a predator. God, what was wrong with her? No wonder he’d cheated on her. What did she expect?
Forget it. An image of herself stretched out naked at Walter Byron Park and mystery man sucking on her p-ssy popped in her head. The same man who had been at breakfast. Desire rushed through her, pooling between her legs.
“You’re crazy, Lucy.” A boy about twelve stood next to a smaller girl, wearing a pink stocking hat, her blonde braids laying on her shoulder.
Lucy frowned and her lower lip trembled. Tears welled in the little girl's eyes. “No, I’m not Steven. Don't call me crazy.”
Cassandra tightened her grip on her skis. That single word used to reduce her to tears. In elementary school, when her classmates found out her secret of seeing ghosts and the Wraith, she became Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. The other children would point and chant, “C-c-c-razy C-c-cassie. S-see any ghosts yet?”
She had to play hopscotch by herself, play tetherball by herself and climb on the jungle gym by herself. Being Rudy sucked.
That was a long time ago, another lifetime. Inhaling the crisp air, she pushed back the memory and smiled at the curvy wintery slopes. She was beyond being a frightened child and today, she had slopes to conquer.
The silver bus rolled into the parking lot. Clasping her skis and poles, Cassandra boarded the crowded transport.
She had met Luke on the ski bus. He had sat next to her and smelled of wet pine. His dazzling smile and witty personality hooked her until she dreamed that night. Why couldn’t she forget her dreams? They weren’t real. The man wasn’t real. But what about the dead ringer guy at breakfast?
Coincidence.
Too much coffee. At The Village drop off, Cassandra headed inside to the women’s restroom. When she stepped out of the ladies bathroom and walked through the crowded locker room, a ski locker opened by itself. A trash can lid moved back and forth. Icy goose bumps ran up her arms and she shivered. The same creepy feeling from the inn swept over her. Whatever it was had followed her here, but she didn’t see the willowy Wraith or the shadowy cowboy.
The spookiness grew more powerful than it had been in the inn parking lot. She wanted to scream, but she’d be Crazy Cassie again.
Outside, she stopped shivering. Goose bumps marked her arms. “Get a grip, Cassie,” she murmured. “You’re imaging things.”
She grabbed her skis, plopped them down near the American Eagle chairlift, stepped into the bindings and skied into the singles’ line.
Crap. Luke.
Looking like a Greek God out on a ski vacation, his bleach blond hair flared over his shoulder and his dark sun glasses hid his beautiful eyes. He sneered.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Cassandra, beautiful as ever. Still the frigid snow queen?” Hurt reflected in his green eyes, but in a flash was replaced with stormy anger.
Her stomach clenched.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Not wanting him to know he hit a nerve, Cassandra put her shoulders back and snowplowed. Was Lilly right? Had she hurt him? “Lu-lu-uke, wh-what, are you do-ing he-he-re?” Damn stupid stuttering. Really fooled him. Next, she’d be fidgeting and he’d know for sure she was a nervous Nelly.
He laughed. “Change of plans. I work here now, just on the weekends.” He winked. “I’m not making you nervous, am I? Or are you just feeling guilty?”
She wanted to disappear into the snow bank.
Flashing his scanner over her pass attached to her jacket, he peered behind her. “You’re actually single? Or did you just ditch some other guy and break his heart too?”
Her words got stuck in her throat. She didn’t know if she wanted to apologize or blast him for sleeping with Diane right under her nose. She brushed past him, not saying a word. His cheating still tore at her heart and she was tired of getting blamed.
Great, now the damn presence had tracked her here. She’d just have to pretend it wasn’t there and pretend she wasn't abnormal and pretend she wasn't psychic.
But it followed her like a damn shadow. Show yourself. Damn it.
The ski attendant waved for her to join three people standing in line and she skied up next to them.
“Well, hello again. It’s Mrs. Smiley. Following me?”
She stared into the same sultry eyes. A shiver of desire ripped through her and she hoped he hadn’t noticed. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and mold her body to his. He’d make sure she was safe.
But it wasn’t just safety on her mind. His black parka and pants fit his body like a wet suit. Devilish lips made her heart quicken.
She bristled. “You!”
Dark Promise (Underworld)
M. L. Guida's books
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