Dark Promise. M. L. Guida
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?”