Dark Promise

by M. L. Guida

  “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 pussy 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!”

  4

  The man flashed his gazed over her. “The way you were eyeing me this morning, I thought I’d better introduce myself. Eric Wyvern. And you are?”

  That man didn’t exist. He wasn't real. “I wasn’t staring at you this morning.”

  He cocked his eyebrow and all but called her a liar.

  Not caring if she was being rude, she butted in front of them. She was tired of looking like an idiot and every flaw pointed out. First by Lilly. And now him.

  The creaking chairlift slowed, rounded the corner then picked up speed. The seat slammed into the back of her knees, pushing Cassandra forward. A strong hand grabbed her arm and plopped her onto the seat.

  “It came too fast.” She freed her arm and stared ahead. Blood rushed to her cheeks. She must resemble a cherry on top of a vanilla sundae.

  “Do you want the safety bar down?”

  “Yes.” She needed something to steady herself. Otherwise she’d melt on the chairlift and drip onto the unsuspecting skiers below.

  Below, beginning skiers snowplowed while experienced ones jumped off bumps, flew into the air with their legs tucked under them and poles close to their sides, and landed without skipping a beat. The last time she’d tried, she landed flat on her butt. Luke and she had burst out laughing.

  Happier times.

  On the chair lift, Cassandra was stuck sitting next to Eric. On the other side of Eric were two young girls who kept giggling and whispering to each other. They were practically drooling over Eric as if he had been voted Sexist Man Alive by People magazine. One of them asked, “So, are you from Denver?”

  Eric shifted in his seat. Cassandra couldn’t help inhaling his masculine scent. She pretended to be fascinated by the skiers and snowboarders. He brushed his arm against hers, creating a shimmering heat between her thighs, and hot sweat broke out over her. Her clammy palms broiled inside her gloves.

  “Yes, I’m from Denver,” he answered. The huskiness in his voice flooded her with sudden heat. What was it with this man and his velvety voice? She fought the urge to run her hands over his ski parka. She’d always been aloof, remote, detached from men, but with Eric, she wanted to touch and kiss him.

  “We are too,” the girl replied. “Do you go to school?”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “School?”

  “Dude, I mean, like, do you go to college?”

  He laughed, sending shivers down her back. Her perspiration shot up a notion. Long underwear stuck to her body and she squirmed on the chair. By the time they reached the top of the mountain, she'd be a dripping snowwoman.

  “No, haven’t been in school for a long time,” he said.

  “Oh. What do you do then?” she asked.

  “I work in the government.”

  The red headed girl’s green eyes widened. “You’re a secret agent?”

  Secret agent? Please. The girl had the brains of a turkey with its mouth wide open, drowning itself in the rain.

  “Marcy, just cuz he works for the government doesn’t mean he’s James Bond. God,” the other girl scolded.

  “What makes you think I’m not?” His eyes twinkled and his lips curled into a half smile.

  Both girls gasped.

  Light snow dusted the pine trees. In between the trees and near the roped off areas, deer, squirrel, weasel and rabbit tracks marred the snow. She stole a glance at him and he caught her. God, she hoped he couldn’t read her mind and know one look from him turned into her raging snow bunny. The curve of his mouth tempted her. She flushed, wanting to jump off the lift and follow the tracks, anything to get away from the hunk of a man who fueled unfamiliar feelings she had never experienced.

  The wind blew the trees, but failed to make the chairlift move faster. With each creak, the chair inched closer to the top and her chance to escape diminished. She needed time to regroup and get her thoughts out of the gutter before she did something really stupid.

  The lift slowed and Cassandra shot out of the chair, needing to douse the flaming desire within her. She headed for the run Rhapsody and swooshed over moguls and onto Main Vein. Skiing down Main Vein’s white highway, she passed skiers and snowboarders. Snow flew into her face, blurring her vision. The windy run beckoned her to move faster, testing her limits. Her body cooled.

  At Center Village, she skidded to a stop, snow spitting from her skis. A skier wearing black came up beside her. Oh, no. Cinnamon.

  Eric tilted his head at the mountain. ”You’re fast.”

  “I love to go fast. Why are you following me?” She half-hoped he was, half-hoped he wasn’t.

  He shrugged. “I guess I am.”

  “You are?”

  He nodded. “The Eagle lift is faster than the Flyer.”

  Damn it! He was just skiing to the next lift and she thought he was after her. She wished for an earthquake so she could jump inside a crevice. The man could have any woman here. She was just one flavor of ice cream.

  Eric had a straight face, but for a brief moment, merriment flashed in them. Was he teasing her? She gave him a small smile and skied away. “Oh, well, have a good day.”

  Luke wasn’t in the lift line. Good. She didn’t want him to see her falling over Eric. She’d caused him enough pain.

  She skied into the single line, but the same enticing masculine fragrance came behind her, fanning the flames within her again. She tensed. Of course, he’d go in this line. The man was single. Why, she had no idea.

  Eric skied up next to her and scanned around. “Where’s your friend?”

  He’
d noticed Luke? “What friend?”

  “The one you were sitting with at breakfast?”

  His hypnotic eyes unnerved her as if he could see into her very soul. She had a sudden urge to tell him everything, her fears, her darkest secrets.

  “Is she here?”

  Fuck, don’t say it, don’t say her name. “What? Who?”

  “Lilly.”

  “Lilly? She had to leave on her business. How did you know her name?” Disappointment formed in her stomach.

  “I heard you mention her name at breakfast.”

  Why couldn’t she blink her eyes like I-Dream-Of-Jeannie and disappear. What else had he overheard?

  “What does she do?”

  “She’s a lawyer.” She chewed on her lip and waited for him to say something about how smart and beautiful Lilly was for the millionth time like all other men did.

  He leaned closer and whispered, “So, are you going to tell me your name? Or is it classified?”

  His sexy voice sent nips down her back and stoked the flames of desire again. She needed to get away from him before she did something asinine. Ignoring him, she butted in line not caring if she got dirty looks. Answering him would be too personal, too intimate, too scary.

  On the chairlift, she relaxed. She didn’t want to compete with Lilly over him and definitely couldn’t bear seeing him with Lilly. True, he was not hers, but she still reeled from Luke’s infidelity and her heart, too raw and vulnerable, bled at the thought of another rejection.

  Skiing would distract her. The minute her skis hit the snow, Cassandra skied as if the devil himself chased her. She veered off at Skid Road run and plowed down to the Super Bee lift. She skidded to a stop and snow plowed her way to the singles line. A spicy scent whiffed over her. She turned and froze. It wasn’t possible. “How did you get here?”

  Eric shrugged. “Skied down the mountain like everybody else.”

  “No, I was ahead of you.”

  “You’re fast, but not that fast.” He tilted his head. “It’s time for you to move.”

  Cassandra skied ahead. Eric followed her and she bit back a smile. Maybe he was interested. Sitting on the chairlift next to him, she clenched her poles, afraid she’d give into the naughty urge to cup his face and kiss him.