Dark Promise (2 page)

Wanting her to desire him when they met, he drew upon his magic. His spirit hesitated to come forth. Shit, this had never happened before. Struggling, he forced his spirit to infiltrate Cassandra’s dream.

* * * *

Clad only in her nightgown, Cassandra Wright walked barefoot through Walter Byron Park. Snow covered the ground. Why wasn’t she cold?

Leaning against an aspen tree, arms crossed over his naked chest, he smiled at her, the man who’d haunted her dreams since she was sixteen. Every dream ended with delicious lovemaking. He’d never told her his name, and each time, he left her quivering in bliss.

Her normal cautiousness fled. Wicked desire filled her and she wanted to run her hands over his muscles, feel his strength, but she stayed rooted in the snow.

His muscles glistening, he unfolded his arms and approached her, his black leather pants hugging sculpted thighs, black boots outlining powerful calves. He motioned. “Come here, Cassandra.”

Her heart quickened. She wanted to do anything and everything he asked. Even if she couldn’t breathe or think with wanting him. She obeyed him.

He grabbed her and pulled her to him. Taller than any man she knew, he could crush her, but he never did in her dreams. His rough wild lips captured hers, and he swept an arm around her waist.

She was safe, cherished, coveted that only he could conjure. Cassandra wove her fingers through his long thick hair, wanting to feel his silky strands caressing her. Indulging in the kiss, she swirled her tongue, tasting his seasoned masculinity.

He broke the kiss and hoisted her nightgown over her head. The gown dropped onto the icy ground. Passion filled his eyes as he pulled her to him. He made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

She slid her arms around his neck and he glided his big hands down her back, slipped them under her panties and kneaded her buttocks. Wanting to feel the strength within them as he moved, she drifted her hands down to his brawny shoulders. He was powerful, a warrior, her warrior.

Calloused hands skimmed her heated skin. She shivered. He cupped and played with her breasts, squeezing and pulling her nipples. He was hard and muscular while she was all curves and he glided his hands over her every curve, setting her on fire. God, she wanted him, demanded him.

His steaminess turned her into a sultry snow bunny.

Her dream lover stared at her, his hooded brown eyes brimming with passion. Possession. Ownership. Raw sensuality. She ached for him, itchy to touch him. He lowered her down to the snow bank and rather than icy cold, a feathery and soft downy snow quilt cushioned her. With him, here in her dream, she could satisfy her wild side, play the harlot, rather than being safe, logical Cassandra. Her heart beat wild as his dark head lowered and he drew her nipple into his hot mouth, sucking hard enough to send her head spinning.

Running her hands over the heated contour of skin, she spread her fingers, feeling the strong ridges of muscles and tracing the straight line of his spine, knowing this inflamed him. She knew every crevice, every dip and knew how to entice desire from her strong warrior. He shivered beneath her touch. Good, she had power too.

But her smugness lessened as he swirled his tongue around her peak, caressing and sucking her until she groaned with pleasure, melting into the snow. Lord! Hang on. She was going to explode into a million pieces. He took her even higher, licking and kissing her hot skin down to her belly button where he slowly explored her navel driving her mad. “Oh, God.”

He lifted up from her belly button and edged her underwear down her buttocks, her thighs and calves. She sucked in her breath at the possessiveness reflecting in his eyes. Did they turn red? Or was the light playing tricks on her?

“You’re beautiful, Cassandra.”

She squirmed, eager to dive into sinful delight as he tossed her underwear aside and lifted her thighs over his massive shoulders. Cassandra closed her eyes as his hot mouth kissed her soft mound of curls. He swiped his tongue over her pussy and she arched off the snow bank with a loud gasp. She prayed for sweet relief from emotions of pumping through her veins, but no relief was in sight, only more guilty pleasure.

He was mystifying and seductive and oh, so dangerous. She should have chosen a nice accountant rather than a dark stranger. With his tongue, he circled her clit, teasing, torturing, driving her insane. He held her trembling thighs tight as he sucked her pussy. She screamed in sinful torment.

He slipped a finger inside her sex and she feared she explode into tiny fragments. He thrust his finger in and out, flaming another orgasm. “You’re such a sweet mess.” Adding another finger, he intensified the slow agony and she wanted to respond but his motion left her too breathless to talk. He leisurely led her to another blissful erotic orgasm. Making her wait. But she wanted more, so much more. “Please.”

“Please what?”

Heat spread over her cheeks. She couldn’t tell him, beg him to thrust inside her so she took the coward’s way out. “Will you tell me your name?” She waited for his patent answer.

A smile spread across his lips. “Tomorrow, you’ll not only find out my name and meet me, but I’ll be thrusting inside you.”

Oh, shit. For real?

2

Cassandra woke with a start, her nightgown bunched around her waist and her core throbbing. Usually the dream was only a couple times a week. But for the past six months, it had been every night. The dreams seemed urgent, as if the man was desperate for her.

Would she really find out his name? Hell, who cares about the name? He said he was real. Alive. She was nothing but a desperate fool.

She ran her fingers along the empty pillow next to her, wishing he was stretched out beside her. Cold gripped her body where his had provided warmth and she curled into a tight ball, wanting his hands on her hot skin. Her dream man had ruined her every pursuing a relationship with a real man. No one came close to him, not even Luke.

Sunlight poured through the half open red and gold drapes. She almost believed his masculine taste lingered on her lips—cinnamon. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, recapture the erotic fantasy, but her body was too alive, begging to be kissed and touched.

She sighed and opened her eyes. Her best friend from college, Lilly Grace, softly snored in the bed opposite of hers. Cassandra gripped the downy comforter tighter and buried her face into the pillow. She’d give anything to be spooning the man of her dreams.

Lilly gave her a sleepy smile, stretched her arms over her head and arched her back like a spoiled cat. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Cassandra said.

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Cassandra whispered.

Lilly sat up, pushing black curls out of her face and leaned against the headboard. “Ready to hit the slopes?”

“Definitely.”

Lilly studied her with her knowing blue eyes. “Cassie, why is your face so red? You’re sweating.” A sly grin spread across Lilly’s face. “Did you have the same dream again?”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. All Lilly cared about was hearing about the sex, the dream was more than hot sex. The man was part of her, her soul mate. A man she could trust.

Lilly gestured. “Come on Cassandra, tell me about the dream.”

“He was so real. I swear I can still feel his arms around me, smell his scent.” And feel him kissing and sucking every sensitive spot.
Stop.

“What does he smell like?”

“Fresh warm cinnamon rolls.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“You have no idea.” Heat fanned her cheeks. She grabbed a tissue from the nightstand. Her fever would boil an igloo.

Lilly tossed her head back, dark curls tumbling down her back, and laughed. “Good huh?” She gave her a teasing grin. “God, I haven’t seen you blush this bad since we went to see
Bridesmaid
last month.”

Her hands clammy, Cassandra stammered, “The opening scene—she screwed him ten different ways.” She wadded up the tissue and threw it into the trashcan. What would it be like trying those positions with dream man?

“Just like at the movies, your face is beet-red again.”

Cassandra braided a strand of her hair. “I know. I can’t help it.”

“God, Cassie everybody has erotic dreams, even virgins.”

Cassandra hated being the only who hadn’t slept with a man yet. Every time, she got close, she froze. Luke had lost patience with her, accusing of her being frigid so he found solace into the arms of another woman. Maybe she was frigid. Maybe the dream man was an excuse for her not to get close to men. She got out of bed. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

“Okay, we won’t talk about your dream.” Lilly cocked an eyebrow and gave Cassandra her I’m-going-to-cross-examine-you look. “You know he’s not real. You’ve got to start dating real guys, not pine for imaginary ones.”

“You mean like Luke?”

“Okay, Luke was a player. I warned you about him.”

“I know you did. It’s that it…still hurts.” At Diane’s birthday party about a month ago she couldn’t find Luke. Drinking too much wine, she stumbled into what she thought was a bathroom, only to discover Luke in bed with Diane.

“Cassandra, not every guy is Luke Kennedy. Some guys are faithful.”

“Maybe if I would have slept with him, he would have stayed.”

Lilly laughed. “Ah, honey. Don’t kid yourself. You were a challenge and when he couldn’t get you, he went on to his next victim.”

Cassandra shrugged as she headed toward her suitcase. She yanked out her red Minnie Mouse sweater, workout bra and long underwear. Luke had blamed her, telling her if she’d been more responsive, he would have stayed. Stunned, she ran out of the room, found the bathroom and promptly got sick. Luckily, Lilly had been staying with friends in a nearby hotel and came and got her. Luke didn’t have the decency to see her home safety.

“Enough about Luke,” Lilly said. “Tell me did you and dream man do it at Walter Byron Park?” She stared. “Well, did you?”

Cassandra’s heart skipped a beat. She stepped into her long underwear and pulled them midway up her leg. “Lilly.”

The man had reduced her to an out-of-control sauna. She was surprised their scorching heat hadn’t melted the snow into a puddle.

Lilly laughed. “Looking at your face, yeah, you did.”

Cassandra jerked her long underwear up her left leg. “Shut up.”

Lilly crossed her legs. “Each time we come up to Frisco, we go to that park. I swear you’re obsessed with it.”

“Maybe.” Cassandra pulled her hair into a ponytail. Outside the frosted window, snow drifted onto the quiet street and aspen and pine trees shimmered in the morning sun. “Frisco’s beautiful in the winter. I love it up here.”

“Okaaay.” Lilly stood and walked to her suitcase. She shook her head as she pulled out a navy University of Denver sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. “You’re tripping girl.”

“I swear someday I’ll buy a house next to Walter Byron Park.”

“You keep saying.” Lilly pulled on her pants and gave her a doubtful smile.

Cassandra folded her arms. “You watch. I will.” How could she tell Lilly the park was her home, her own personal sanctuary?

Winter or summer, Cassandra had often walked along the path or sat at picnic bench. She loved listening to the roaring music of the thundering Ten Mile River that propelled her troubles down its path. She’d gone there to heal after Luke cheated on her. He hadn’t tried to apologize instead justifying his infidelity and telling their friends she was the Frigid Snow Queen. For the last couple of weeks, she had cried her eyes out.

Homes near Walter Byron Park cost over five hundred thousand dollars, but she’d find a way. She might not be J.K. Rowling, but somehow she’d get the money.

“Hon,” Lilly said, straightening her sweatshirt. Her trim figure rivaled a high school senior’s, but she was a high-powered attorney, who would sell her mother to win a case. “I hate to do this to you, but speech and language therapists don’t bring in the dough. I don’t know why you’re going back to school for your masters in speech. Go to law school or business school.”

“I don’t want to be a lawyer or a business woman. I can be a speech and language therapist and live in Frisco.” She blotted her lips on a tissue and threw it in the trash.