SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (127 page)

Hilly shrugged, then leaned back on the sofa. “At this point, I don’t give a damn.”

Margarita reached out to touch Hilly, but then pulled back and instead gave Hilly a warm, understanding smile.

“I knew you had grit or Dillon wouldn’t have said such nice things about you all these years.”

Hilly lapped up the praise wanting to hear more. “Can you elaborate, because I’m feeling pretty down right now.”

“You’re all he talks about, sweet pea.” A great big smile swept across her face and her eyes lit up, making her look like a little girl with a secret she wanted to share.

“Why me? Shouldn’t he be yammering on about his fiancée?”

“Don’t get me started on that one. He won’t marry her. Never really intended to. That engagement was because of Frank.”

Hilly was feeling a bit overwhelmed with the revelations. “Maybe Frank should marry her.”

Margarita grinned. “That’s a good idea, dearie. Let me work on that for a bit and see what I can do.”

A curious response, Hilly thought, but she let it slide.

“I’d love to know more about Dillon. Especially more about that song you were singing to him earlier.”

“One of highlights of my life is talking about my delightful grandson. ‘My Blue Heaven’ was his mother’s favorite song. Frank used to sing it to her. He was a different man back then. More human. The three of them would come to visit us each fall and we’d spend part of the visit at the Hotel Colorado, in the Molly Brown room. My daughter loved the hot springs, so did Frank, and Dillon could swim in that warm water all day long. But everything changed when Molly, Dillon’s mom, got sick. Like I said, Frank didn’t like being around her. He’d find excuses to travel. That’s when Dillon stepped in.

“The boy never left her side, except for school, of course. He would even sleep on the floor next to her bed in case she needed something during the night. Frank had provided a nurse, but that wasn’t enough for Dillon. And he was always singing that song to her, ‘My Blue Heaven’
.
Had a terrible voice, but Molly didn’t care. She thought he sounded like Pavarotti. He was singing that song to her when she passed. It’s a horrible time for a child to have to witness their own mother’s death. Leaves a scar on their heart that never truly heals.”

Hilly could only imagine the sorrow that Dillon had felt and probably still carried with him. Losing his mom at such an early age must have devastated him, especially when he couldn’t find a replacement for her love with his cold-hearted dad.

Margarita went on. “That’s why Dillon’s the way he is. My daughter thought she was doing a good thing when she made Dillon promise to be a good boy and listen to his dad. He was only twelve years old when she passed. Any mother would do the same. In Dillon’s mind, a promise is a promise, no matter the consequences or the passage of time. But once I saw you, I knew there was hope for my sweet grandson.”

“Me? What can I do?”

“You can love him as much as he loves you.”

Hilly jumped up from the sofa as if she’d been sitting on a spring and turned away from Margarita. She couldn’t look at her. Didn’t dare. She didn’t want to hear anymore.

“No. That’s not true. It couldn’t be . . . he’s been an awful boss, calling me in the middle of the night with questions, forcing me to stay well into the next morning just because he likes to work until exhaustion, even asking me to accompany him to the courthouse when there was no need for me to be there. I—” Hilly turned back to face Margarita, but Margarita wasn’t there. Instead, a middle-aged couple came walking into the room, staring at Hilly as if she were a bit crazy.

“Hi,” Hilly blurted out, trying to appear as though she wasn’t talking to herself. “Did you happen to see which way my friend went? An older lady, wearing a white coat, and a knit hat.”

The man looked perplexed.

“Sorry, but we didn’t see anyone leave,” the woman said.

“But she was just here, sitting with me. We were talking, and . . . oh no. No. She was absolutely here. We were sitting on the sofa, together, talking.”

Sheer panic began to creep up Hilly’s spine. The room began to spin.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” the woman asked. “Maybe you should sit down for a moment. Catch your breath.” The woman touched Hilly’s arm and suddenly Hilly knew she’d been talking to a . . . no, she refused to think it.

“Or tea? How about a nice hot cup of tea?” the man asked, smiling one of those sympathetic little grins that Hilly now resented.

“I’m fine. Just need some air, but thanks. Really, just fine,” Hilly mumbled, then she slowly turned and headed out of the Family Room and back to Dillon’s room to read that article about Dillon’s accident in the local newspaper.

She paced her breathing as she walked through the corridor, assuring herself that Margarita was not a ghost. Ghosts did not exist, especially not in hospitals wearing winter coats and knit hats. And they certainly didn’t sit with you on sofas and chat. Margarita was very much alive and simply left before those people walked in. She felt certain Margarita was back in Dillon’s room, holding his hand, singing another verse of “My Blue Heaven”
.

At least that was the vision Hilly was hoping for.

* * *

As Dillon stood in front of the vanity, waiting for Hilly to step out of the shower, an overpowering sense of affection surged through him. And to add to this highly unusual emotion, the affection was for Hilly, who quite frankly seemed confused not only about her feelings for him, but also about everything else in her life.

Still, she seemed to be the only person he could talk to or for that matter, she was the only person who could see him, and for now she was the best chance he had at learning more about himself and Molly Brown.

The water stopped, Hilly reached for her towel, the shower curtain slid back, and as soon as she spotted him, she screamed.

He screamed.

This seemed to be the only way to begin a conversation with her.

“Why are you doing this to me? You can’t be here. Go away,” she yelled, as she fastened the towel around her lovely naked body.

“You seem to have an obsession with cleanliness. Every time I see you, you’re wet. Not that I mind, but does everyone bathe as much as you do?”

“It relaxes me, but lately, not so much, especially when you show up, leering.”

“I do not leer. I may look. I may enjoy what I see, but I never leer.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

Hilly stomped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He followed. “Why are you the only person who can see me? Or talk to me? I try to talk to other people, but they don’t respond. Why do you think that is?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you’re not really you.
You
are lying in a hospital bed, in a coma. This
you
is not real. This double-Dillon thing you’re doing is probably why the real you is still in a coma. You need to go back in your body and stop floating around.”

“I do not float,” he said with certainty.

“Oh yeah? Look at your feet.”

He gazed down and sure enough, his feet weren’t touching the floor. He slowly descended to a more appropriate position.

She left the bedroom and walked to the sitting room, closed the door and sat down on the chaise. Dillon was already in the room, sitting on a stair to the bell tower. He loved how he could sometimes do that. How he seemed to be able to anticipate her next move and get there before she did without so much as having to take one step. He was just there. It didn’t always work, but when it did he felt like a kid outsmarting a grownup.

“You aren’t going to get rid of me until I know why I’m in a coma. What happened to me?”

She stood, her towel came undone and Dillon saw those lovely breasts again, along with everything else she tried to keep hidden. She struggled with the towel, making little throaty noises, fastening it around herself yet again.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m not one of those people who sees things and thinks it’s some sort of gift. I don’t want a gift. I want my old life back where you’re my bastard boss and I’m your dutiful assistant. This game we’re now playing isn’t working for me. You have to go away and never come back, especially while I’m bathing. It’s just not right.”

“I’m your boss, and I’m a bastard? I don’t feel like a bastard. Are you sure?”

“Positive. It’s our routine. This . . . thing we’re now into, isn’t going to work. You need to go back into your body and wake up so everybody can get on with their lives.”

“Easy for you to say, you know who you are. I don’t have a clue who I am, or where I am. It’s unnerving.”

He turned to her, but she wasn’t there anymore and he was back in that dark place he didn’t much like. Alone and scared.

* * *

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Hilly told Sarah as the two women stepped into the hot springs across the street from Hotel Colorado. A misty steam rose up from the two-block-long swimming pool where the water temperature was naturally kept at a cozy ninety degrees giving off a dreamlike feel to the experience. The women had a three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of the snowy mountains that surrounded the valley making the experience only that much more surreal. Sarah, along with some of the singles group had decided to take a break from skiing and drove over to Glenwood Springs for a relaxing afternoon soaking in the natural mineral water.

Jimmy-Jason was among the people who drove in with Sarah, and from the way he gazed over at Hilly she could tell there was something hot brewing beneath the surface and it wasn’t just the water.

“You sounded half-crazy on the phone so I thought I’d better check up on you in person.”

“Before I tell you what’s been going on, are you and the hottie together now?” Hilly nodded toward Jimmy-Jason.

A sly little grin swept across Sarah’s face. “Jeremy? No. I hooked up with Brad.” She turned and waved her fingers at the tall guy standing next to Jeremy in the pool. The guy threw her a pearly white grin. Brad looked military, clean cut, way too conservative for Sarah with his cropped sandy-colored hair and his clean, fresh face. Sarah’s men usually had that I-just-climbed-out-of-bed look to them with a scruffy beard, dark straggly hair and features that had been knocked out of place. “He’s an incredible lover. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. All he wants to do is pleasure me. I don’t understand it, but let me tell you, girlfriend, it’s been life changing.”

“It’s been two days.”

“You’d be surprised what two healthy, sexual people can achieve in two days.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“I’m not telling, so let’s get back to Jeremy.”

“Why?” Hilly had enough going on in her life right now without introducing another man into the mix, even if he did look a little like a cover model on a romance novel.

Sarah cocked her head. “Because he likes you, and wasn’t that the reason why we signed up for this meet-up ski party?”

“I don’t have time for Jimmy right now.”

“Jeremy. Why can’t you remember that?”

Hilly shrugged as she sank down into the warm water, with only her head bobbing above the surface, while she swished her arms back and forth, enjoying the experience. Sarah did the same. “I don’t know, exactly. I’m usually good with names. But every time I think of his name, it’s like my brain freezes.”

“Maybe that’s a good sign.”

“Tell me more about him.”

“He’s an electrical engineer and works at Qualcomm in San Diego, owns his own house, never been married, and likes kids. But the biggest draw is that he can’t seem to get over you. That’s why he’s here. He’d like to get to know you better,
much better,
were his exact words. But if you’re still hung up on your boss, then I’ll try to let him down easy.”

Gazing over at Jim-Jeremy with the mist encircling him, and his fine ripped chest glistening in the sunlight as he popped up out of the water, and ran a hand through luscious chestnut colored hair showing off some magnificent biceps, Hilly knew she’d be a fool not to go for some of that.

And she had every intention of getting to know him better just as soon as she dealt with Dillon Spencer and his ghostly grandmother.

Whereas Jim-Jeremy was a living, breathing adult man and wanted to get to know her
much better
. . . .

Hilly repeated his name over and over to herself. This time she wouldn’t forget it especially since her best friend was more or less opening the door for hot sex with an absolutely gorgeous man . . . who happened to live in San Diego.

“Do you know how far San Diego is from L.A.? I don’t do long distance relationships.”

“Then move. You hate L.A.”

“I can’t move. I won’t have a job.”

“Your boss is in a coma. If anything bad happens to him, or if he doesn’t wake up, chances are Frank the Tank will fire you anyway.”

“He probably already has. I told his assistant to ask the cold-hearted asshole how he sleeps at night. I don’t know what came over me.”

“My influence, no doubt.”

“This was purely my doing.”

“Too bad. I’d like to take some of the credit.”

“Don’t kid. I’m worried I don’t have enough savings to be unemployed.”

“Really? Last I heard, you have enough money in stocks to live on the dividends for the next ten years. You can do this.”

She had a point. Hilly had been buying stock ever since the crash and it was now worth well over eight-hundred thousand dollars.

Still . . . .

“I haven’t even met the guy.”

“I think it’s time we took more chances.”

“Look who’s talking. You live with your parents.”

“I’m moving out when we get back.”

“You’ve said this before.”

“I hadn’t met Brad before.” Sarah’s face flushed and a smirk crossed her lips.

“Wow. You’re really serious about him.”

The smirk turned into a wide grin and a blue light seemed to radiate from every part of her. Hilly blinked and it disappeared.

“I know. Crazy, huh?”

“Not as crazy as what I have to tell you about Dillon, and his grandmother.”

“Spill. What’s going on? What are you not sharing with me?”