Will shook his head at the memory. He hadn’t kissed Cressida that night. Nor any other night. It had been Lucy’s inexperienced, yet enthusiastic kisses that haunted his dreams. It had been the taste of her, the memory of her skin, that had dragged him from sleep on the brink of a full-body climax more times than he could count.
Bloody woman.
And now he was back, and so was she, so tantalizingly close that it took every ounce of his self-control not to simply push her up against the nearest wall and ravish her. To remind her how good it had been between them. To show her how good it could be again.
But Lucy would never believe that the Will Arden who’d rejected her so thoroughly ago could want her now. He’d done such a good job of appearing indifferent that she’d react with astonishment and suspicion if he confessed his love.
She needed seducing. Not just her body, but her mind, too. But there was too much history between them to allow that to happen. They needed a fresh start, so Will could woo her and win her as he should have done years ago.
As the Phantom, he’d have that chance.
He hadn’t originally created the Phantom as a means to engage with her. When he’d first returned to London and realized he had months to wait for her return, he’d directed all his pent-up energy into making Drury Lane more profitable. Competition was always fierce, with countless playhouses vying for theater goers’ attention, and he’d known that a mysterious figure haunting the boxes would drum up interest and fill seats.
His fellow directors had supported his plan, and it had worked, brilliantly. Covent Garden had been awash with gossip, and attendance had almost doubled as people began to come in the hopes of glimpsing the new ‘theater ghost’.
But he’d become a victim of his own success. He’d had to use every one of Drury Lane’s secret passages and alcoves to avoid detection, and he and the other directors had finally agreed that it was time for the Phantom to take his curtain call. Kit Hollingsworth’s offer of a reward to whoever unmasked the Phantom had been a final attempt to create a buzz before Will disappeared as mysteriously as he’d come, banished into the realm of myths and legend.
The idea to challengeLucyto expose the Phantom had just slipped off his tongue. She’d always loved a challenge, and he’d jumped at the excuse to spend time with her. But now he thought of it, it was the perfect opportunity for them to start again with a clean slate.
Not only could they indulge in some wicked flirtation, but he’d have the chance to become her friend, as well. Lucy would converse with the Phantom with a freedom and candidness that she’d never use when speaking to him as William Arden, Viscount Ware.
Yes, there was an element of subterfuge to the scheme, but all was fair in love and war, as they said. And Will would use any means necessary to win Lucy, body and soul.
She’d invited the Phantom to meet her, and he was only too happy to oblige.
CHAPTER4
Lucy didn’t usually pay much attention to her clothing, but she dressed with care to meet the Phantom. Her stomach fluttered as she stepped up to the booth and purchased a ticket for the evening’s performance. Hamlet wasn’t one of her favorites, but she wasn’t there to enjoy the play.
Several people nodded to her in greeting as she ascended the stairs. Hopefully they’d assume she was on her way to the private box reserved for her brother-in-law, Max Cavendish, the Duke of Hayworth, who was married to her older sister Caro.
There was no-one in the hallway outside the fourth-tier box, and she held her breath as she pushed open the door. The chandelier above was unlit, as per the Phantom’s demands, and the corners of the box were very dark—but empty. Just to be sure, she patted the drapery, but no-one was lurking there.
She quashed a wave of disappointment.
The letter she’d left was nowhere to be seen, but it could have been disposed of by someone cleaning the box, instead of being intercepted by the Phantom.
A bell rang, signaling the imminent start of the play, and an excited buzz rippled through the audience, followed by an expectant hush. Not wanting to be seen by those below, she settled herself in the darkest corner of the love seat as the curtain rose, and smiled at the familiar opening scene. Two actors playing night watchmen paced on the painted ramparts of ‘Elsinore Castle in Denmark’, discussing the sighting of a ghost.
If onlyherghost would make an appearance.
Still, it had been so long since she’d had the pleasure of attending a play that she allowed herself to relax. Even if the Phantom didn’t come, she would still enjoy the evening. She normally attended the theater with her twin, Lenore, who was the very worst companion; far more interested in peering into the audience and gossiping, than actually watching the performance. Lucy was constantly hissing at her to be quiet.
Act two was well underway when Lucy finally sensed a presence behind her. She spun around in her seat, then reared back with a gasp at the sight of the black-clad figure leaning casually against the back wall, arms folded across his chest, black mask covering the top half of his face.
The Phantom.
She cleared her throat and tried to calm her hammering pulse.
“Good evening, Sir. I suppose you got my letter?”
The man straightened, and a shiver of apprehension rippled through her. He was tall. Broad. Well-formed. She tightened her grip on the knife she’d placed in her lap.
“Yoursummons, you mean.” His voice was low, a rough rasp that shivered across her nerve endings.
Lucy gulped. He did not sound overly welcoming.
He tilted his head and she tried to study his features in the faint glow from the stage. As Arden had said, he was dark-haired and clean-shaven, with a straight jaw and no sign of any scarring to his lips.
