SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (125 page)

Hilly’s stomach began roiling and she felt a bit lightheaded, not to mention overwhelmingly embarrassed. She needed to get out of the tub, get dressed and get a room of her own. She hadn’t even thought to ask at the front desk if there were any rooms available. An oversight that may have just cost her job.

She wondered if he’d fire her over this breech of his privacy? The thought of being jobless in this economy sent a rush of adrenalin through her. She needed to explain herself before Dillon made up his mind about her hasty actions.

Hilly grabbed the large bath towel, wrapped it tight around her body and walked into the bedroom, ready to spill her guts to her boss hoping he would somehow understand, not that he was the understanding type. Dillon dealt in facts not emotions.

“I can explain everything,” she said, but he wasn’t in the bedroom, so she took the opportunity to throw on her terry robe, dropping the wet towel on the floor. She hadn’t expected to share a room with a man, especially not Dillon Spencer.

Of course, she intended to change this troublesome fact as soon as she could.

She took a deep breath and walked out into the long hallway of the suite completely prepared for him to fire her for some sort of breach of trust or etiquette or something equally as bad, but he wasn’t there.

“Mr. Spencer?”

No reply.

She padded down the carpeted hallway to the small sitting room. “Mr. Spencer?”

Silence.

“Okay, this is too weird,” she said out loud, simply to hear a voice in the silence. She climbed the steep spiral stairway to the bell tower balcony, pushed open the door and gingerly stepped out onto the worn wooden planks. The wind howled through the old tower and snow covered most of the balcony causing her not to stray too far from the shelter of the doorway in her bare feet. The view was spectacular, but she couldn’t enjoy it with a missing Dillon lurking around. In the distance she could see that dawn had peeked over the mountains, and the town below seemed to be awakening for the new day.

“Mr. Spencer? Dillon, are you out here?”

A sharp cold breeze snuck up her legs and gave her a shiver as she noticed the brick wall of the bell tower right next to her. Each brick within reach had been etched with names and dates of the guests who had occupied the room over the years. The countless names and dates only added to the creepy feeling Hilly couldn’t shake.

“You shouldn’t be out here in your condition. It’s way too cold,” she said to no one.

Again there was no answer, only the sound of the wind swirling through the tower.

She hurried back inside, closed the door, and carefully walked back down the spiral staircase and out into the dining room, peered out on the small covered deck, but couldn’t find Dillon Spencer anywhere.

He’d completely disappeared.

Hilly stomped back to the bedroom, arms tucked in tight across her chest, fighting back the cold that now seemed to engulf the entire suite. When she arrived at the bedroom doorway, she turned, stuck her fists to her hips in one last attempt at defiance.

“This is so not funny. Where the heck are you?”

No sound.

No movement, simply a strong floral scent of gardenias that seemed to surround her, exactly like the cigar smoke that had engulfed her in the lobby. She quickly decided it was probably due to the lingering scent of her bubble bath. Somehow musk had turned to gardenias, or some such floral scent.

She let her convoluted reasoning go, and instead focused on Dillon’s abrupt departure, figuring he must have simply walked out of the suite and not told her. Something the Spencers routinely did when they were finished with a conversation.

Hilly glanced over at the main door to the suite and noticed the latch was still securely engaged. No way could he have gotten in or out without unlatching the door, which was totally impossible.

The realization ripped through her at lightning speed, giving her a deep shiver. She slowly backed into the bedroom, slammed the door shut, threw back the blankets on the bed, jumped in, covered her head with the blankets, closed her eyes and told herself it had all been a very bad, and deeply disturbing tasteless dream.

A Shadow at Twilight: Chapter Four

Dillon’s new abilities were quite vexing. It seemed as if he could simply walk through walls and doors, and if he wanted to go somewhere, all he had to do was think it and poof, he was there.

He found all of this instant mobility highly unsettling, and yet, liberating at the same time, especially when it came to Hilly Thompson. Never had a woman charmed him as much as Hilly. She had a lovely face with piercing green eyes, gorgeous blond hair that cascaded down her back, and the most outstanding breasts he ever had the privilege to observe. He couldn’t imagine why on earth he and this vision of feminine mystique weren’t dating or better still, married. Coming home each night to Hilly Thompson seemed like a most pleasurable experience.

Still, she had insisted they were hardly friends. He had a feeling that getting her to truly love him had some sort of relevance to his survival. Surely he could get what he wanted. He seemed to remember that he never had any problem with that element of his life.

At the moment, however, he had other pressing issues to deal with, like why was part of him lying in a hospital bed, while another part walked around hotel rooms. The entire circumstance caused him mental distress and distress was not something he needed at the moment. He needed answers, and unfortunately answers seemed as elusive as his inability to physically touch anything.

He had heard Hilly calling to him while he stood right in front of her in the hallway, but for some reason she could no longer see him. And when he reached out to touch her out on the bell tower balcony, his hand wouldn’t connect. Instead, it appeared as though it had moved right through her.

The one thing that kept gnawing at him was his need to speak with Molly Brown. He couldn’t shake it, and felt certain that if he could just talk to her or see her, everything would be all right. If only he knew how to find her. Who was she? Where was she?

Hilly’s reaction to his question about Molly was certainly puzzling, but then everything was puzzling.

As dawn peeked over the mountains, he had stood near the railing on the bell tower balcony watching Hilly in the early morning twilight, that hazy time right before the sun made its daily appearance in the sky. He had marveled at the perfectly delightful vision of the beautiful woman in front of him.

Unfortunately, she could no longer see or hear him.

Then without warning, as the sun raged across sky, he found himself gazing down at that other part of himself, the part that was stuck in that horrible dark room.

Only this time, he chose not to get too close.

This time, he refused to feel the pain.

* * *

Hilly awoke several hours later to the sound of her phone playing
Bad to the Bone.
It was Sarah. She could barely hear it from under the covers and threw them off, then slipped from the bed to retrieve her phone out of her purse.

“Hey,” Hilly said.

“Is he still alive?” Sarah asked.

“What? Yes. At least I think so. No one’s called me from the hospital. You’re horrible, you know that?”

Hilly climbed back up on the bed and stretched out, staring at the white ceiling. Sunlight poured in through the windows, giving the room a golden tone.

“He’s a demanding man who took over your life. I’m just hoping that no matter what happens, you’ll take this opportunity to move on to a better job, one that allows you to have a personal life. Jeremy asked about you last night. Thinks you’re hot and wants to know when you’ll join us.”

“Who’s Jeremy?”

“He’s the cutie with the brown curly hair and the dreamy eyes. Don’t pretend you didn’t notice him ’cause I spotted you ogling him several times.”

“I was not ogling.”

Hilly focused in on the hottie she’d spotted in the lobby yesterday.

“Whatever you want to call it, you two had a connection.”

“And I’m hoping to nurture that ‘connection’ sometime later today. I should be able to drive back there tonight. Frank the Tank is flying in this morning.” Hilly yawned, and last night’s Dillon dream came rushing in.

Or was it a dream?

“Well, hurry up and get here or I’m going to scoop him up for myself. He’s way too adorable.”

Hilly sat up. “Oh, no you don’t. He’s mine. Besides, you told me you don’t have time for a real relationship.”

“Who said anything about a real relationship? I’m talking sex, straight out, for-the-thrill-of-it, sex. No strings.”

“There must be another guy you like in that group. Jimmy’s mine.”

“His name is Jeremy. Did you stay up all night or what?”

Hilly needed to tell someone about her dream or her vision or whatever that was. “Not exactly. If I tell you what happened to me last night, promise me you won’t freak?”

“See, that right there is making me crazy. Are you okay? Should I drive over there? I knew I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself. I’m cancelling my day here and driving over right now.”

She absolutely did not want Sarah hanging around right now. Way too much drama. “No. Please don’t. I love you, but I can’t deal with anything else right now. I’m fine, it’s just that something odd happened or I think it happened. It was probably a dream, but it seemed so real that—”

“Stop! You’re spinning. Just give me the facts.”

“I think Dillon appeared to me last night while I was taking a bath.”

“Perv.”

“Who, me?”

“No, Dillon. I mean, what better time for the bastard to show up than while you’re naked? I bet he’s been lusting over you for years.”

“Did you hear me? I said I think he
appeared
to me, like as in ghost or a spirit. I don’t know if it was a dream or if it really happened.”

“That pond scum can’t leave you alone even when he’s in a coma. He’s probably lying in his hospital bed adding up all the work he’s left undone and somehow you caught his brain waves. Drugs. You need to knock yourself out with some kind of heavy duty sleeping pill. It’s your only hope.”

Obviously, Hilly would get no sympathy from Sarah. Her total dislike for Dillon Spencer was all-encompassing.

“You’re probably right. What time is it, anyway? I want to get to the hospital before Frank shows up.”

“A quarter to twelve.”

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. Hilly quickly checked the screen on her phone and sure enough it was eleven forty-seven.

“This is so not good. I told Dillon I’d be at the hospital bright and early.”

“He’s in a coma. He can’t hear you.”

“You don’t know that. He can probably hear everything I say.”

“You need to quit. It’s your only hope of survival.”

Hilly slid off the bed, and headed for the bathroom. She was certain Frank Spencer would be furious if he had arrived and she wasn’t there. So furious that any hopes she had of continuing on with the firm if Dillon . . . but she didn’t have time to think about any of that right now.

“I have to go. I’m late. I’ll see you tonight.”

“If you don’t, I’m coming over there and dragging you back here. Dillon Spencer is not your problem anymore. He’s his father’s problem.”

“I know. Gotta run.” Hilly disconnected and made a bee-line for the front door, knowing there would be muffins and coffee waiting for her. She opened the door, picked up the large tray and marveled at all the delightful looking treats, ignoring the group of newspapers that were neatly folded and placed off to the side. Any other time she would have enjoyed reading them, but there wasn’t any time for that luxury at the moment. She placed the heavy tray on her bed, poured a cup of coffee in a white mug, added cream and sugar, grabbed a chocolate chip muffin and proceeded to get ready in record time.

She washed up in the bathroom then slipped on jeans and a black sweater over the red lacy underwear she’d bought especially for the trip, after Sarah had insisted. Hilly was more your basic beige or black type of girl. No frills. No lace. Red was Sarah’s favorite color, and because of this, Hilly’s suitcase was now loaded down with red panties and bras. All of which taught Hilly a valuable lesson: never, under any circumstance, go lingerie shopping with Sarah.

While Hilly dressed and enjoyed the sweet muffin, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for Dillon. He’d been in the hospital fighting for his life for more than twenty-four hours, and so far, no one seemed to care.

Well, she cared, and it was about time she acted like it.

* * *

On the way up to Dillon’s hospital room, Hilly stopped in the gift shop on the second floor and bought a bouquet of silk flowers along with a cobalt blue vase. Real flowers weren’t allowed. She figured the man could use a bit of cheer in his sterile room. Not that he would notice the flowers in his catatonic state, but she felt somewhat hopeful his prognosis was improving. When he awoke, it would be a nice surprise for him.

Today, she had to check in at a security desk before she was allowed up to Dillon’s room. Fortunately, her name was on the list, a very short list, which consisted of three names: Hilly Thompson, Frank Spencer, and Dillon’s fiancée, Nanette Larson.

“Has Mr. Spencer, Senior, arrived?” Hilly asked the broad-shouldered guard. He looked as if he could take care of any problem that might get thrown at him.

He glanced at his chart, then looked up at Hilly. “No ma’am. You’re the only visitor on this list so far.”

“Thanks.”

At least she’d arrived before Frank or there would have been hell to pay. No way would he have wanted to deal with Dillon without a buffer, Hilly being the buffer.

She walked over to the bank of elevators where a young Asian woman with long brown hair, dressed in pink scrubs and a perky smile on her sweet face waited with a two-tiered metal cart filled with several bouquets of silk flowers, teddy bears and a fistful of colorful balloons that floated above her head. Seeing all of this, Hilly felt proud of herself for having stopped to buy Dillon some flowers, and wondered if she should have bought him an even bigger bouquet or perhaps two bouquets, if not for his sake, then certainly for hers. If she was destined to sit in his room for most of the day, it would be nice to have something pleasant to look at.