“What do you mean? Have you done something to him?” Alarm made her voice quaver. As infuriating as Arden was, she’d never want anythingbadto befall him.
“Nothing sinister. He’s simply going to spend longer than expected in Mr. Holland’s office.”
“Because you’ve hurt him?”
“Locked him in, I’m afraid.” The Phantom didn’t sound the least bit repentant, and Lucy found herself rooted to the spot as he stood and moved closer. She couldn’t step back without bumping into the huge mirror, and his knees pressed into the front of her full skirts.
This close, she could see the fine grain of the skin on his jaw, the hint of evening stubble.
She resisted the urge to reach out and touch it, and injected a scolding note into her voice instead. “That was rather wicked of you.”
His shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. “I wanted you all to myself.”
Her heart gave an irregular thump at the hint of possessiveness in his tone. She’d never had a man say something like that to her before. It was rather thrilling.
“What is Lord Ware to you?” the Phantom asked softly. “A suitor? A lover?”
A flush spread across her skin. “Neither of those. He’s . . . we’re . . .”
Howwouldshe describe their relationship? They weren’t friends, exactly. Nor enemies. And saying ‘He’s just someone I kissed once, and can’t seem to forget,’seemed a little odd.
“He’s a friend of the family,” she said finally. “And he’s not here for my company. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time to help me tonight.” She bit her lip. “He has many disreputable qualities, but abandoning a damsel in distress is not one of them.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” The Phantom tilted his head and studied her. “Although any man who isn’t interested in spending more time in your company must be a fool. That dress looks magnificent on you.”
Flustered, Lucy turned back to face the mirror and smoothed her skirts with her hands. “Why, thank you.”
The Phantom was so close behind her that she could feel the warmth of his body calling to hers, and when she sucked in a shaky breath the delicious scent of him made her stomach somersault.
In the mirror they made a striking couple, a symphony of dark and light. Her pale skin seemed to glow above the inky folds of her dress, and his white shirt stood out in bold contrast to the darkness all around them. His black mask seemed to hover above her shoulder.
Their eyes met in the mirror and her heart missed a beat as he lifted his hand and touched the side of her neck.
He wasn’t wearing gloves.
The feel of his bare skin on hers was like a static shock, and her lips parted on a soft exhale. His fingers were warm, as gentle as a breeze, as he traced them across her bare shoulder, up the side of her neck, then ran his thumb beneath her ear and along the underside of her jaw.
Lucy couldn’t move. It was as if he’d cast a spell on her, a sensual web that held her utterly in his thrall. Her blood pounded in her veins, and a strange recklessness filled her, a combination of excitement and trepidation.
“The last time we met you said you’d let me kiss you.” His voice was low, beguiling.
“In exchange for your name,” she countered.
“Does that offer still stand?”
Her breath caught. What should she say? She could feel the warmth of his body against her back, feel the dangerous tug of his allure. What was it about this man that tempted her so?
Kissing a stranger was beyond foolish, but Arden would be back at any moment to interrupt them. Even if he was trapped in Holland’s office, he wouldn’t be waylaid for long. Something as paltry as a locked door would pose little challenge to a man as resourceful as Arden. He’d pick the lock, or call for help, or simply kick the door down.
Which meant that Lucy had limited time to throw caution to the wind. Sheneededto know this man’s name. Almost as much as she wanted him to kiss her. Other than Arden, this Phantom was the only man who’d ever had this fascinating effect on her, and she knew she’d regret it forever if she didn’t explore the possibility now.
“Yes,” she whispered. “The offer still stands.”
The Phantom stilled, almost as if she’d surprised him. Then he let out a low, pleased sound. “You’ll have to turn around, then.”
Before she could move, his arm snaked around her waist, and she gasped as he spun her round in a swirl of skirts. Her hands came up to brace against his chest, and her heart fluttered as she looked up into his masked face.
However scarred he might be beneath the fabric, there were no imperfections to the lower half of his face. His lips were beautiful.
