“Was there no-one you missed when you were on that island?” The Phantom asked. “What about that fool who ignores you? Did you dream of him during the long, lonely nights?”
A telltale blush heated her skin, but she forced herself to answer. It was only fair. She ought to answer his questions if she expected him to answer hers.
“Truthfully? Yes. I dreamed of him.” She gave a despairing, rueful laugh at her own foolishness. “Despite the fact that he did absolutely nothing to deserve it. I’m sure he never spared me a thought.”
The Phantom stayed silent, and she shrugged. “I suppose I wanted a fairytale of my own, a happy ending like the ones that happen down there.” She gestured toward the stage. “But as you’ve already observed, real life isn’t like that. When I saw him again here in London, he treated me exactly as he’d always done, as his schoolfriend’s hellion sister.”
“You hoped he’d see you with fresh eyes. As a beautiful, fascinating woman.”
“Well, yes,” she laughed. “I suppose I did.”
The Phantom tilted his head and she could sense his gaze on the side of her face almost like a physical touch.
“There is a man out there, Lucy Montgomery, who will love you until your dying day. You just have to find him.”
“Easier said than done,” Lucy said lightly, even though her heart warmed at the possibility. “But I appreciate your confidence.”
“Oh, I suspect you’re much closer to finding him than you think.” There was laughter in his tone, and she was about to ask him what he meant when his gloved finger lightly stroked the side of her cheek.
It was a teasing touch, light enough to tickle, and her stomach did another strange little somersault. Apparently, matching wits with a mysterious, delicious-smelling stranger was something she’d been secretly craving.
“Will you tell me your name if I promise to give you my firstborn child?” she joked, a little breathless. “Like in the fairytale Rumpelstiltskin?”
“I’ve no need for a child. Firstborn or otherwise.”
“Whatdoyou have need of then? There must besomething. Tell me.”
“Very well. I have need of . . . a kiss.”
Lucy stilled, slightly shocked, yet also intrigued. “You’ll tell me your name if I let you kiss me?” she clarified.
“Yes.”
She blinked. Lord, it would be madness to agree. She’d be no better than a whore if she said yes only to win the hundred pounds.
But she was tempted.
Shewantedto kiss him. Her body was humming and alive, and there was something about him that drew her, a strange familiarity, a kinship, as if they’d met before in another lifetime. How could she be attracted to mystery man whose name she didn’t know and whose face she’d never seen? And yet there was no denying the thrill of excitement running through her veins.
“Agreed.”
Before she could think better of it, she turned in her seat, leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his.
It was the briefest of kisses, a mere peck, and she pulled back, flustered and blushing at her own uncharacteristic daring before he could even move.
“There,” she panted. “A kiss. Now tell me your name.”
His laugh was deep and delighted. “Oh, sweet girl. That doesn’t count. You agreed to letmekissyou, not the other way round.”
A hot flush of mortification swept her cheeks. She felt tricked, foolish, but technically he was right. Thatwaswhat he’d suggested.
Unable to look at him, she faced the stage again and braced herself as if preparing for the guillotine. “Fine. Then you have my permission to kiss me. Right now.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him shake his head. “I’m afraid I have to go. The house lights are about to come on for the intermission.”
He stood, and a wave of disappointment crashed through her. She twisted around on the love seat, gripping the back. “Wait! No! Don’t leave.”
He stepped back, easily blending into the shadows. Only the white of his evening shirt and cravat glowed pale in the darkness.
