SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (122 page)

Time her precious Dillon found his one true love.

A Shadow at Twilight: Chapter Two

“Slow down, honey. This is a nasty one,” Margarita demanded as she leaned forward in the passenger seat. “This road is a killer.”

“Gram, I’m not going more than twenty,” Dillon told her, never taking his eyes off the road for a moment.

“Then go ten.”

Dillon considered himself a good driver in any weather, even in the worst conditions, and these were definitely the worst conditions. Not only was it as dark as coal out there, but he could barely see the road let alone make out where the lanes were. Thick snow had blanketed the road directly in front of him, making it virtually impossible to tell if he was driving between the lines. All he wanted was to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible. Getting stuck out here was not an option.

There weren’t any other cars on the road. No taillights leading the way, no tracks in the snow and no cars coming in the other direction. The road from Breckenridge to the main highway seemed to be more circuitous than he remembered it to be, and it didn’t help that his grandma insisted on telling him to ‘slow down’ right before each and every curve.

It was times like these when he had no choice but to relent to his gram’s wishes. He slowed. “Okay. I’m taking it down to a crawl. The good thing is there doesn’t seem to be anyone coming up the mountain.”

“That’s ’cause they probably closed the road on either end. We’re the only ones dumb enough to be on it.”

His gram always spoke her mind even when she sometimes sounded harsh. It had been at his insistence they left the safety of the café, despite the weather.

“It wasn’t snowing like this when we left.”

“It’s Colorado, not California.”

There was something off with his grandmother tonight. Dillon had sensed it as soon as he’d seen her standing out in the cold in front of her café. She seemed defensive and agitated, as if she had something to tell him but didn’t know how to say it.

“Gram, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t like speeding down this mountain in all this snow. You never know when someone might pop up from a spur.”

He took her advice to appease her and slowed down even more—to barely moving—but he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. In the state she was in, any speed seemed too fast. Dog sled would have been preferable.

Truthfully, he’d already skidded several times onto the shoulder, and each time he felt his stomach dance and his heart pulse in his throat. The road was a bear that he had to continually fight.

Fortunately, each time he slid he was able to get the vehicle back under control relatively easily, which in the scheme of things, helped ease his own fear of the traitorous road.

“Is this better?” Dillon asked, quickly glancing over at his gram. He hated to see her so tense, but there was nothing he could do about it now. They’d left late, mostly due to his lingering in the hot springs pool across the street from the hotel, enjoying the feel of the mineral water on his aching muscles. It had felt so blissful that he’d lost all sense of time, and ended up wasting away the entire afternoon. When he finally got around to making the drive to Breckenridge, the sun was already setting.

Big mistake.

A bitter snow storm had moved in quicker than he had anticipated and now they were caught right in the middle of it.

“I’ll be better when we get off this darn road,” she reassured him. “We should’ve left as soon as you arrived. It was my fault. I like to talk too much.”

His gram had pulled him back inside the café and they’d spent another hour chatting with her customers before he finally pulled her away.

“You can’t take the blame for the snow. It’s a force of nature. Nothing we could have done about it. Besides, we’re doing fine. No worries. I’ve got the situation completely under control.”

He felt the car swerve for an instant and his heart skipped a beat. The driving situation was anything but under control.

“You always do, my love. I have complete faith in you.”

But her actions told him otherwise as she gripped the small handle just above the window, and cleared her throat for the umpteenth time, a sure sign she was uncomfortable.

She sat back, straightening out her white wool coat, making sure it covered her legs. He watched as she slid her mom’s sapphire ring back and forth on a long chain around her neck. He hadn’t seen it on her in years and wondered why she’d worn it tonight. Maybe the ring had something to do with her temperament. He thought back to when he was a kid—whenever she was nervous or something wasn’t going the way she had planned, she’d twist the ring round and round on her finger. Dillon had always wondered if it was a nervous habit or if she was calling on her mom for help. She’d once told him the ring had magical powers and he’d believed her, but when the ring couldn’t save his mother’s life, he stopped believing in magic of any kind.

“It’s going to be fine. Really. You should relax.”

She sighed. “I’ll try.” She let go of the handle and turned to face him. “Well, at least I grabbed a good long look at your pretty assistant. Although why you didn’t want to let her know you were there is beyond me. I would have loved to meet her. She’s a real beauty, that one, and seems like such a nice young woman. You’ve told me time and again how you can’t do without her. Are you sure you want to marry that Nanette girl? I think you should dump her and marry your assistant. What did you say her name was?”

“Hildegard Margaret Thompson, but everyone calls her Hilly.”

And as soon as he said her name, bright lights blinded him around a hairpin turn. His heart jumped up into his throat as he felt the car losing traction. His gram screamed as an intense nausea swept over him.

Then everything went black.

* * *

“You’re not really going,” Sarah said, making sure Hilly knew in no uncertain terms that she would not be supportive of any decision but an adamant refusal. Something Hilly would not even consider, much less agree to.

The Meetup singles group had gathered at six a.m. in the hotel lobby, getting to know one another while waiting for the courtesy shuttle to take them out to Peak 6 for their first day of skiing in Breckenridge. Everyone seemed overly excited about the three feet of snow that had fallen the previous night, and was anxious to get the day started. The thunderous excitement level that reverberated throughout the lobby as testament to everyone’s delight was almost deafening.

Sarah and Hilly had joined this fun-oriented organization to widen their circle of friends, and hook up with single men. Two things both women sorely lacked in their lives, especially Hilly, who had a zero social life due mainly to the demands of Dillon Spencer. The skiing part was simply a by-product. Neither woman was an experienced skier, and had no intention of sliding down anything larger than the beginner trails at the bottom of Peaks 8 and 9.

“He’s my boss. I don’t have a choice,” Hilly explained as she headed through the lobby wearing her new sky-blue ski outfit, which she was now certain would never see a slope of any kind. She carried her laptop tucked inside a chocolate-colored case, a black purse hung over her shoulder and she pulled a black carry-on suitcase behind her. Her skis were already on the shuttle and couldn’t easily be removed so she’d left them for Sarah to deal with, a task she had reluctantly took on due to the Dillon intrusion.

Earlier that morning, thinking she’d be skiing all day, Hilly had combed her long hair into a tight ponytail, and applied only the bare necessities of makeup. Not that she wore very much to begin with. Hilly took after her mom: flawless skin and naturally blond hair.

“You’re on vacation,” Sarah called while trailing Hilly, trying to catch up. She was all decked out in a designer ski outfit, complete with matching boots. Her deep brown hair was perfectly styled, her nails expertly manicured and her photogenic face could easily adorn the cover of any fashion magazine.

With all that going for her, she still had to join a Meetup singles group.

“Dillon trusts me,” Hilly answered, glancing back over her shoulder as she headed for the front doors of the resort. A few of the people from the chatty group watched as Hilly rolled on by and she tossed them one of her best apologetic grins. She had to admit, there was one guy she genuinely wanted to get to know better, a Jack or John or was it Jason? She couldn’t remember. But there he was, all geared up for the day, looking like a Greek god, staring right at her, a great big white-toothed grin on his adorable face.

And there she was walking right past him, sheepishly nodding as she headed for the doors.

She hated her life.

Hilly was just beginning to relax and forget about work when the text message from Frank the Tank Spencer had come through:
Dillon in car accident. Coma. Looks bad. Flying in soon. Counting on you to take care of all medical arrangements. Valley View Hospital, Glenwood Springs.

Of course she would go to him and handle any arrangements that needed to be made. She didn’t hate the man, for heaven’s sake. And of course she was shocked hearing the news—her heart beating madly once she’d finished reading the text. But what she couldn’t wrap her head around was why Frank was sending her when he had access to his private jet and could be at his son’s bedside sooner than Hilly could drive there.

It was moments like these when she wished she could chuck it all, move to a small town, work in a small book store or a coffee shop and marry the local grocer.

“Wait up,” Sarah ordered.

Hilly hesitated at the double doors, only giving her friend a few seconds to catch up.

As Sarah came closer she said, “Doesn’t the man have other people he trusts? People who aren’t on vacation? His family? Friends? His adoring fiancée?”

“Don’t you have any compassion at all? He could be dying.” That thought sent her pulse racing again.

Hilly pushed open the doors that led out into the cold, snowy morning. A rush of frigid air gave Hilly a shiver, and she hurried to the warmth of her rental car. She had never been cut out for snow and cold and wondered why she ever agreed to this vacation in the first place. She’d learned how to ski well enough that she didn’t have to stay on the beginner slopes and there had been times when she had enjoyed the rush of it, but that was during her teen years on vacations with her parents. She was all grown up now and knew the after-effects of breaking a limb. Both her parents had broken bones while skiing, and it wasn’t pretty. Give her a warm sandy beach any day. Snow and ice scared her and at the moment, she wished she was in Malibu working on her tan.

Sarah walked out right beside her. Sunlight made everything sparkle, including the majestic surrounding mountains. A perfect day for skiing, not so perfect for driving.

“Sounds like he needs his father, not his assistant.”

Dillon Spencer had his entire life planned out, down to the style and color suit he’d wear at his own funeral. Fortunately for Hilly, this little known fact was of great significance considering the state he could be in. She thought it odd how that was the first thing she’d focused on when she first read Frank’s text. Still, true emotion had welled up inside her, until Sarah had reminded her that once again she was giving up her vacation . . . something she had done several times before.

“His dad is several hours away. I’m here.”

Even though the surroundings were breathtaking to look at, Hilly kept her focus on her mission and headed straight toward the parking lot. She didn’t want to be reminded of all the fun she might have had, could have had, and surly would have had if Dillon had a loving father who actually cared about his only child.

Sarah tagged close behind through the crowded parking lot. “I want to know how even when this man has an accident, he manages to do it so you’re his first responder. How does that work?”

“I don’t know . . . luck, I suppose.”

“Certainly not for you.”

“No, for him. Most of his family, what there is of it, is too damn busy to care.”

“Then why should you?”

Hilly stopped in front of a white SUV. She never truly thought about her reasons for working for a boss who kept their relationship strictly business, had no visible compassion for his clients, and let his father run his entire life. She knew it wasn’t just the money. She was a stellar assistant and knew she could probably get the same salary working for someone else with a lot less stress, but there was something about Dillon Spencer. Maybe it was the roses she’d set up for everyone to receive on their birthdays or the bonuses that seemed to show up in her paycheck whenever her parents needed some major repair done to the house or the fact that, being painfully honest with herself, she’d had a crush on him ever since the first day he’d hired her.

She couldn’t pinpoint her reason for staying, but the money reason always sounded like a good enough justification when someone asked why she worked for Dillon Spencer: the man with the stone heart.

“He pays me to care. Now, I really have to go.”

Hilly gave Sarah a warm hug then beeped her SUV doors open, loaded her suitcase in the back, and opened the driver’s door.

“You know that lame excuse doesn’t work on me. Call me when you get there,” Sarah ordered. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.” But Hilly had no intention of spoiling Sarah’s vacation. Whatever happened, she felt confident she could handle it all on her own.

* * *

Two hours later, Hilly sat in Dillon’s private room, listening to the beeping sound of machines keeping tabs on his vitals.

As the day wore on and well into the long night, she realized if it wasn’t for her, no one would be at his bedside. Even Dillon’s father couldn’t seem to make it in. Although a text message from his assistant had assured her he’d be flying in on his private jet early the next day, hoping Dillon would improve by then.

Aside from the nasty bruise on Dillon’s forehead, which was now turning a deep shade of purple, and the ventilator covering the lower half of his face, all the machines attached to him that buzzed and beeped, and the fact that he was in a coma, Dillon appeared to be quite normal. The real difference was that he was in a prone position which gave him a sort of odd aura, as if he was shrouded in a hazy blue light and completely at peace.