Dark Promise (8 page)

“Yeah.”

“Could you give me a lift?”

“What?”

“I’ll buy dinner.”

“Dinner? No, you don’t have to.”

“Come on, Cassandra. I don’t want to take the damn bus back again. We’re going to the same place.”

He was just using her for a ride. Great. She wanted to say no. “All right.”

He smiled. “Good, I’ll take you to your favorite restaurant.”

“Eric, I just want to stay in my hotel and read a good book.”

“No, I insist. Somehow I feel I owe you,” he said. Red glittered in his eyes.

She shook her head. She imagined it. “Fine, but I want to be home early.”

On the shuttle ride back to the parking lot, Eric stood next to her, bumping into her when the bus lurched. Just his slightest touch turned her into a pool of slush.

As they walked to her SUV, he leaned closer. “Is your Pathfinder far?”

Alarm bells rang in her head and she shivered. “How did you know I drove a Pathfinder?”

“You must have mentioned it.”

“No, I didn’t. Okay which one is it?”

“Excuse me? You want me to guess which one is yours?”

“Yes, I do. Or I’m not taking another step.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He scanned the parking lot. “The black one.”

She followed his gaze. Behind her silver Pathfinder, was a black one. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was too damn tired. She hit the keyless remote and the lights flashed on the back of her SUV.

“Ah, so I was wrong,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

He clasped her arm and turned around. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the shape of his mouth or his deep eyes. He cupped her cheek, his thumb feathering her jaw line, his fingertip traveling up her chin to her lips. “Don’t be.”

Her heart quickened as he bent his dark head. His mouth parted, his lips skimmed hers, titillating all the way down to her toes, and she opened hers. His tongue followed with a warming caress. She revealed in the familiar taste, tender, silky, seductive.

Fire raced through her bloodstream, flaming her desire, despite the chilly air. Her stomach clenched. Sparks ignited and the full meaning of chemistry seized her. There was nothing else, not the cold, not the other skiers, but only his mouth claiming hers, whirling her into another world she had only dreamed about. And he tasted like cinnamon. She was lost and, her wall of doubt crumbled. Her legs wobbled and she reached for a nearby bench. He pulled away. “Let’s get to the damn car.”

Eric gathered their skis and poles and tossed them into the back of the SUV.

Still reeling from the kiss, her hands shaking, not able to ditch the feelings he had awakened in her, she undid her boot buckles and put on her suede boots.

Eric watched her stand. She fumbled for her keys and dropped them in the snow.

He snatched them up. “Would you mind if I drove?”

She didn’t know him. How could she trust he would take her to the Inn? “No, I want to.”

He frowned, but handed her the keys. “As you wish.”

She slipped into the driver’s seat and he got into the passenger side. She grappled with sticking the key into the ignition.

Eric chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

“No, I…I…I can do it.” The key slipped into the ignition and the car started. Before she could pull out of the parking space, Eric leaned over, slipping his hand around her neck, pulling her toward him, toward those mesmerizing lips. The tender, teasing stroke of his lips on hers flamed her desire. His tongue explored every inch of her mouth and she indulged in discovering his velvet-soft interior. He swept away her dream, replacing it with reality, demanding she respond to him, taking her response, all hunger and desire. His kiss was better than any kiss she’d had in her dream.

She leaned closer reaching for his shoulders when her elbow hit the steering wheel. A loud honk broke the kiss.

Cassandra jumped. Eric laughed. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. So very beautiful.”

“We better get going.” She fumbled to put the gear shift into drive.

He grabbed her hand, spreading warmth through her, and he held her with his determined gaze. “Cassandra, please let me drive. You’re shaking.”

She wanted to say no, but she couldn’t form a single thought. She wasn’t sure she could drive and at least if he drove, she could focus. “All right.”

He smiled, leaning closer again. He kissed her, his tongue pushing open her mouth, devouring her, leaving her breathless. Her mind whirled at the sensations as her body responded, wanting to feel his lips on her neck, sucking and biting her skin. He released her and opened the door. Cassandra sat in the driver’s seat, trying to gather some rational thought. Her door opened and Eric led her to the passenger side. The drive was a blur.

He pulled into the Galena Street Inn parking lot and turned off the ignition. He handed her the keys. “I'll meet you in the lobby at six.”

He got out of the car and got his skis and out of the rear. Cassandra leaned toward the wheel and glanced in the rearview mirror, still clutching the keys in her hand. He nodded at her and headed into the Inn.

Cassandra managed to answer. “Oh, yes, fine,” she said. What just happened? Cassandra cursed again. She wanted to relax in the hot tub, take a hamburger back to her room and finish reading Sherrilyn Kenyon’s
Bad Moon Rising
. But no. She had not only let Eric talk her into driving him back to the inn, but had agreed to go to dinner with him.

The clock seemed to be ticking faster and faster. She rolled her eyes at her weakness as she brushed her hair. She lost all sense around Eric and was surprised at how upset she’d been when Diane hung all over him. It had hurt worse than it had with Luke. Why was that? She’d known Eric less than a day. Had he uttered a seductive incantation?

Applying the last bit of mascara, Cassandra cursed herself for being so wish-washy. She stepped back. Make-up failed to conceal her raccoon eyes, since she’d forgotten to put sunscreen on her face. Too much drama today. She inspected her clothes, straightening her white pearled sweater. Her faded jeans were worn at the knees and her brown suede snow boots were old. Why had she agreed to go? Face it. Because, if not the genuine thing, he was the closest she'd ever seen to her dream man.

She grabbed her parka and purse and headed out the door. Attraction compelled Cassandra to Eric, but she didn’t trust it. It wasn't real, an illusion. Luke was real, but unlike Eric's kiss, Luke's never swept her into a whirl of sensations.

She strode into the lobby.

Eric stood in front of the fireplace, staring into the roaring fire. The light shone on his long black duster jacket, giving it an eerie, smoky, glow. His hair was pulled back into a loose queue and showed a sparkling diamond stud in his right ear. He was a dark pirate stepping out of the past. A slow smile spread across his face as he flicked his gaze over her. Shivering, she hesitated.

He held out his hand. “You look lovely, Cassandra.”

His smooth voice unsettled her. She forced her legs to move. She lifted her unsteady hand and took his. Eric’s grip emitted strength and power. Warmth spread through her, heating her skin from her fingers down to her toes. Ignoring the sultriness blanketing her body, she pretended to be interested in the quaint paintings as she allowed him to lead her out of the lodge.

They walked a block before Cassandra found her voice. “Where are we going?”

“Boatyard Grill.”

He'd done it again. Read her mind. The Boatyard Grill was her favorite restaurant in Frisco. How did he know these little bits of information about her? Was it a coincidence or something else? Had he been following her on the internet or stalking her back home? He’d be hard to miss. Eric wasn’t the kind of man who could blend in with the masses, not with his striking looks.

The Boatyard Grill was only a few blocks from the Inn, but cold gripped her and too stubborn to move closer to Eric to get warm, she tightened her arms around her waist. His slightest touch flamed her body and she didn’t trust herself.

Eric opened the door for her, and she strolled inside. Warmth at last. She dropped her arms and uncurled her frozen fingers. Her stomach growled as she inhaled the aroma of basil, garlic, sausage and French fries.

The brunette hostess smiled and took a step back when Eric entered the room.

His grim stance and dark presence radiated danger and sexiness at the same time—a deadly combination.

Tossing her hair behind her, the hostess wet her lips. “Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

Cassandra clenched her fist. She itched to ram it into the woman’s angelic face—not something she considered on a regular basis. Squeezing her hand, Eric glanced at her and gave her a secret smile. She jerked away from him. Was she transparent?

“A table for two,” Eric ordered.

Her high heels clicking on the hardwood floors, the hostess led them to a black veneer table, sitting in front of a large six-pane window, looking out onto a quiet alley covered in snow. Eric pulled out an oak chair for Cassandra. His fingers brushed her back, melting the last of the remaining mountain chill.

Eric sat across from her, staring at her. “You have such a light inside you, Cassandra.”

“Light? What do you mean?”

Eric clasped her hand and caressed her. Soft strokes monopolized her.

“Are you listening?” he whispered.

“What? I’m sorry. What did you say?”

He smiled. “I said not everyone possesses this light, but it radiates from you. Pure, simple, clean.”

“You make it sound like I’m a saint.”

He released her hand and cold seized her skin where he had been.

“So you’re not?”

“No!”

A male waiter approached the table. “Good evening, I’m Troy and will be—”

Before the man could finish speaking, Cassandra blurted. “I’d like a Pinot Noir, please.”

“Okay,” the waiter said. “And you, sir?”

Mischief shown in Eric’s eyes and a slow grin appeared on his lips. “A Guinness.”

Cassandra snatched the menu on the table.

Eric chuckled.

The blood drained from her face. Damn the man! His kiss and touch could turn her into molten lava while his teasing infuriated her. Hunger pains demanded Cassandra’s attention. The words on the menu blurred until she spotted what she wanted “What are you going to have?”

Eric put his menu down. “Steak. And you?”

Her taste buds salivated at sinking her teeth into applewood smoked bacon on top of a medium cooked blue cheese burger, but she’d be damned if she told him. “What do you think I’m going to have?”

He leaned back in his chair.

She squirmed under his heated gaze.

The waiter returned with the wine and stout. “Are you ready to order?”

“I’ll have steak. Rare. She wants the bacon and blue cheeseburger, cooked medium rare with French fries.”

“Very well,” the waiter slightly bowed.

“No wait,” Cassandra sputtered. “I changed my mind. I want fish.”

Eric smirked.

She glared.

He reached for his glass and sipped his stout as if she couldn’t see his devious smile.

“Fish?” The waiter lifted his eyebrow. “You want the salmon or the trout?”

“Oh, I want…No, I’ll have the bacon and blue burger with French fries.”

The waiter shook his head and left.

Cassandra held up her hand. “Don’t…How did you know?”

“I know everything there is about you. And no, I’m not a stalker.”

“Then how?”

“We share a mutual friend.”

“We do?”

He lowered his voice. “The Wraith.”

Cassandra’s throat constricted. A dark pit formed in her gut—the burger forgotten. No one knew about the Wraith. Not even Lilly. Not since she made the mistake of telling some kids at her elementary school. She blinked back tears, and forced her face to remain impassive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”