The Phantom Lover

Tempting Fate Halloween

The Phantom Lover by Kay Wilde

(c) copyright October 2003, Kay Wilde Cover art by Eliza Black New Concepts Publishing www.newconceptspublishing.com

“No.” “It’s exactly what you need.” “I don’t need anything,” Tessa Brandt insisted. “I like my life just the way it is.” “Bullshit,” her best friend Jessica came back with a snort of disgust. “You don’t have a life. You’ve spent your entire life playing the role of little miss perfect that was forced on you by your grandmother. And what has it gotten you, Tessa? I’ll tell you. Nothing. You ramble around in this museum of a house, alone.” Jessica was on a roll. Knowing it was pointless to interrupt her friend before she had her say, Tessa leaned comfortably back in her chair, propped her feet up on the ottoman, and settled in for the siege. Besides, what would be the point? Tessa had no convincing argument to offer against the truth. They had been next-door neighbors and best friends since they were in the same class in elementary school. Jessica knew her better than anyone else in the world, maybe even better than Tessa knew herself, at least Jessica believed she did. “Tessa, you know you’re my best friend, and I love you like a sister, but let’s be honest. Your grandmother was an autocratic witch who controlled and manipulated you until the day she died,” Jessica continued, jumping with both feet upon sensitive ground that was the one source of friction between the two friends. “That’s not fair,” Tessa countered, immediately coming to her grandmother’s defense, as she always did. “My grandmother took me in and raised me after my own mother dumped me on her doorstep. Without

her, God only knows what would have happened to me.” “And she never let you forget it. The old woman made you pay for her daughter’s sins,” Jessica argued. “You were never permitted to play, to get dirty, never allowed to mess up your clothes or your hair. I’m not sure you even sweat. For Christ’s sake, Tessa, you were expected to behave like an adult when you were only six years old.” Not one word of Jessica’s argument was untrue, but loyalty to the woman who raised her would not permit Tessa to admit it openly. “Using my grandmother to make your point is not the way to get my cooperation, Jess. She’s been gone five years. What do you hope to accomplish by bringing her up now?” Jessica raked her fingers through her riot of blonde curls, closed her eyes, and turned her head toward the ceiling as if praying for divine guidance. With a sigh of frustration, she opened her eyes and sat on the ottoman in front of Tessa’s chair, fixing her friend with an earnest gaze. “I care about you, Tessa. I think you’re wonderful. Hell, you’re a saint. But think back to when we were in high school. Every time you talked your grandmother into letting you go on a date, she conveniently got sick, and you stayed home to take care of her. After a while, the boys quit asking. You worked hard in school and earned a full scholarship to a university upstate. You know, that was the first and the last time I ever saw you happy and excited about doing something for yourself. Then your grandmother really became ill. You forfeited the scholarship, took the job you still have, and you stayed home to care for her for the next four years until she passed away.” “I don’t have any regrets. I was all she had, and I owed it to her.” They had been over this before, and still Tessa found herself defending her actions as if she had done something wrong. “And being the kind of person you are, you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if you had done otherwise,” Jessica conceded. “I understand that, Tessa. I admire and respect you for doing what you felt was right. But look around you. Your grandmother has been gone five years, and you haven’t changed a thing in this house since you inherited it. It’s still her house, not yours. It’s as if she is still here, still manipulating your life.” “And your point is?” Tessa inserted. “My point is, you’re twenty-seven years old. It’s your turn. It’s time to get a life. And I can’t think of a better time to bury the ghosts than Halloween.” “Just like that? I dress up in some ridiculous costume, go with you to this masquerade ball, and at the stroke of midnight I become Cinderella and my boring existence is changed forever?” Tessa quipped sarcastically. “Of course not,” Jessica answered. “But it is a start. Aren’t you tired of living up to other people’s expectations? Just once, wouldn’t you like to know what it feels like to shed your inhibitions and have a good time, to become the sensual woman you’ve repressed all these years? Dammit, Tessa, I’d bet my new convertible that you’re still a virgin.” “You’d lose,” was Tessa’s shocking revelation. Her one and only sexual encounter had been hurried, painful, disappointing, and so embarrassing Tessa had never been tempted to repeat the experience.

“I don’t believe it,” Jessica gasped. “When? Who?” “The last time my grandmother was in the hospital,” Tessa answered, even now unwilling to share how ashamed she’d felt afterward. Her grandmother was dying. She had been alone and vulnerable, spending day and night at the hospital, returning to her hotel room only long enough to shower and change clothes. Looking back on the encounter, Tessa knew she’d been an easy target, ripe for seduction by a seemingly sympathetic charmer. “He was a young intern who worked the night shift on her floor. We often went to the cafeteria for coffee when he was on break or just sat and talked in the tenth floor visitor’s lounge.” “Where did you . . . .” “In one of the empty rooms on the tenth floor,” Tessa answered before Jess could complete the question. “Wow! That’s one fantasy even I wouldn’t have thought of trying. How could you have held something like that out on me?” Jessica accused, then asked, “Was it good?” The expression on Tessa’s face was all the answer she needed. “Uh-oh,” Jessica groaned. “Maybe I won’t try that one after all. Anyway, back to the subject at hand,” Jessica quipped, bouncing to her feet and making her way to the garment bags she’d brought with her. “I have two costumes. You can have your pick, and I’ll take the other.” “Jess, I can’t deny everything you said about my life is true. I do need to get a life,” Tessa conceded. “But making a fool of myself in some outlandish costume at a fancy ball, no doubt an event worthy of coverage by the local media, is not the answer. I’m not going.” “That’s the point of a masked ball. You’ll be in disguise, a different person. By the time I’m finished with you, you could make the moves on anyone in town, and they’ll have no idea who you are,” Jessica coaxed. “Besides, even if someone thought a guest resembled you, they’d dismiss it. There isn’t a person in this town who would expect Ms. Prim and Proper Brandt to attend such an undignified affair.” “No. I’m not going.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Tessa kept telling herself over and over from the time Jessica’s candy apple red convertible pulled out of her driveway, up to the time they turned between the opened wrought iron gates at the entrance of the restored Rosehaven Estate, soon to open its doors as the exclusive Rosehaven Inn. As an avid history buff and president of the local Historical Society, Jessica had been an invaluable source of information during the restoration of the deserted estate. In gratitude for her assistance, the new owners had sent her two invitations to the “By Invitation Only” grand opening. Despite Jessica’s steamroller tactics and her arguments as to why Tessa just had to attend the Halloween Ball, in the end it was Rosehaven itself Tessa had been unable to resist. Once, when she was maybe eight or nine years old, her grandmother had refused to allow Tessa to attend the birthday party of a young classmate, and she ran away from home. She made it as far as the edge of town, somehow ending up at the tall brick wall surrounding Rosehaven. By then she was tired, hungry, frightened, and lost. She had no idea how to get back home even if she wanted to, which she

didn’t. Along the west wall she’d discovered an opening where the bricks had come loose and slipped through onto the grounds. To the little girl she was at the time, Rosehaven looked like a forgotten fairytale castle. She’d never seen anything so grand nor so sad. On some strange level, Tessa identified with the abandoned, neglected estate, and she didn’t feel frightened any longer. She didn’t go any closer to the house for fear someone would catch her and she’d be in more trouble than she already was. She sat on the ground, leaned back against the wall, and promptly fell asleep. That’s where the man found her. She woke up to something tickling her nose and opened her eyes to see a man bending down in front of her with a daisy in his hand. “Are you lost, sweetheart,” he asked her and smiled gently. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen, and she pretended he was the prince who had returned to reclaim his castle. Tessa’s grandmother had warned her never to talk to strangers because some were bad men. She knew she should be frightened. She wasn’t. She somehow knew this man would never hurt her. “I’m not lost,” she told him. “I ran away.” “Oh? Now why would you want to do something like that?” he asked as he offered her the daisy he’d used to tickle her nose and wake her. With her prized daisy clutched tightly in her hand, Tessa told him all about the party and how her grandmother wouldn’t let her have any fun like all the other kids. Sometime during her rambling, he took her hand, and they began walking in the direction of the house, then down the drive to toward the front gates. He listened to her tale of woe and talked with her, not at her, as her grandmother did. He told her she was special, and one day she would grow up to become a beautiful woman, just like the lady who once lived at Rosehaven. When they reached the front gates, they opened by themselves, and he led her to the side of the road. He stood there beside her giving her words of encouragement until he saw the mail truck coming down the road. He stepped inside the gates, and they closed after him. “When you’re all grown up, little one, come back and see me,” he told her then put his finger to his lips and winked. Their visit was to be a secret. He stood inside the gates and watched to make sure she was safe until the mailman who had been alerted to watch out for a missing little girl stopped the truck. Tessa looked back toward the gates for one last look at her prince. He was gone. Tessa never told another living soul about the handsome man at Rosehaven, but she had never forgotten. And now, tonight, she was all grown up and returning to Rosehaven. Before Tessa had time to breathe, much less bolt, as soon as they stepped through the beveled glass double doors into the entry, Jessica hustled her into the powder room. Not that she could breathe within the confines of the tightly laced corset she was wearing. “Here’s the plan. We go in separately,” Jessica explained. “While even your dearly departed Granny wouldn’t recognize you in that get-up, people do know we’re good friends, and I’m likely to be recognized. So, in order to protect your anonymity, it’s wiser if we don’t stay together. Agreed?” Jessica would most definitely be recognized. The revealing harem girl costume she wore did little to conceal Jessica’s lush body and left nothing to the imagination of the appreciative male observer, including her identity. For that very reason, Tessa readily agreed to her friend’s suggestion that they separate. She didn’t want to give anyone the slightest reason to connect the two friends and as such speculate as to her identity. “Fine,” Tessa agreed, then held up her manacled wrists. “Give me the key to these things before you are

snatched up by some Arab sheik, never to be seen again.” While the lightweight manacles linked together by a ten inch length of chain were padded and not uncomfortable, Tessa didn’t care for the sensation of helplessness that went along with them. “And give you an avenue of escape? Not a chance my friend,” Jessica responded by slipping the key between her breasts and into the scanty bra of her costume. “Besides, the manacles and the blindfold make the costume. Without them you’re likely to be mistaken for one of the serving wenches likely to be wandering around here.” Before Tessa could argue, she turned and headed for the door. “For the first time in your life, don’t analyze the consequences. Just go for it. I intend to,” was Jessica’s parting shot before she stepped through the door. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Tessa turned, bypassing the mirror above the triple sink vanity, she instead gazed at her reflection within the mirror tiled wall to the right. Jessica was right about one thing, her grandmother wouldn’t recognize her. She didn’t recognize herself. To Tessa’s critical eye, the costume revealed a shocking amount of cleavage. While it was provocative, it was most definitely the lesser of the two evils in Jessica’s possession. The theme of her costume was The Captive. Her long dark hair hanging loose to the center of her back had been moosed and scrunched to give it a tousled, wind blown look. Her mask was a black silk blindfold which allowed her to see through slits artfully concealed within the folds. The simple, strapless, underwire corset of white cotton was the most revealing part of the costume. Although she had never considered her breasts large, Tessa had thought them to be adequate. Thanks to the mechanics of the corset, they now appeared much more than merely adequate. The navy blue ankle length skirt was tattered with a rip up the left side to her hip. A rip which revealed a tantalizing amount of bare leg when she walked. That was doable, Tessa decided. She would just be careful how she walked, which made perfect sense considering that her feet were bare. “This is a test,” she told her reflection, thankful she had the powder room to herself. “Do you want to be a timid mouse all your life? Or do you have the guts to be the woman you’ve only fantasized you could be?” It was only one night. One night which could give her a taste of what life could be like. “Don’t analyze. Just go for it,” Tessa repeated her friend’s advise as she turned and walked from the powder room into the unknown. Returning to the elegant tiled entry, complete with a sparkling crystal chandelier, she had no difficulty discovering the direction she needed to go. Music and laughter were emanating from the opened French doors at the end of the hallway to her right. Needing just a little more time to build up her courage, Tessa walked to the closed pocket door on the other side of the entry. She slid the door back, slipped inside, and closed the door behind her. In truth, she chickened out. Tessa quickly realized she was in the library, the most elaborate private library she had ever seen. But then, only the best would be good enough for Rosehaven. The entire back wall and the walls flanking the ornate fireplace were floor to ceiling bookcases, complete with a ladder on rollers at the top to allow access to the volumes on shelves out of reach from the floor. There were several antique library tables and comfortable leather chairs throughout the room which smelled of old books, fine leather, and pine from the logs burning in the fireplace. The pull of the room and the cozy fire was almost irresistible. It would be so easy to select a book, curl up in a comfortable chair in front of the fire, and hide out in here for the duration of the party. “Or I could just leave,” Tessa muttered. “I don’t belong here.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Turning her back on the temptation offered by the inviting room, Tessa reached for the door.

“Did you honestly think the Master of Rosehaven would allow his beautiful captive to escape him?” Tessa froze, her hand barely an inch from the door. “Turn around,” the voice behind her instructed. Unable to resist, she turned to face the room she’d thought deserted. He rose from the depths of a winged backed chair facing the blazing fire. He wore tight black britches tucked into knee-high riding boots and a black silk shirt opened to the waist, giving her a glimpse of the fine dark hair on his muscular chest. But it was his face which caused Tessa’s breath to lodge in her lungs. It was him. The man she’d met here as a child, and he hadn’t aged a single day. Logically, Tessa knew it wasn’t possible. The man facing her must be the son of the man who had found her here so long ago. He had the same wavy, raven dark hair, the same compelling onyx eyes, and the same soothing voice she’d never forgotten. As he walked slowly toward her, Tessa’s legs went weak, and her heart stuttered within her chest. Stopping in front of Tessa, he reached out and, with his forefinger beneath her chin, forced her to look up into his mesmerizing gaze. “It can’t be you,” she gasped, knowing how ridiculous the remark must sound. “Can’t it?” he responded as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. “I repeat my earlier question. Did you honestly think I would allow you to leave?” “I don’t understand.” “Yes, you do,” he insisted, then rubbed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “The important question is, do you still want to go?” “No.” The word escaped her lips without her being aware of speaking. His head lowered. His lips met hers. At first, his kiss was a mere whisper of a touch, teasing, coaxing, willing her to initiate further contact. When her lips instinctively sought his, he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking admittance for more intimate contact. Her lips parted. One hand slid around her waist to the small of her back, pulling close to the inflexible hardness of his body. His other hand slid up her back and into her hair, holding her secure while he devoured her lips like a dying man absorbing life-sustaining energy. Tessa was shocked by the depths of passion his kiss evoked within her. Without being aware of doing so, she slid one hand up his chest, relishing the sensation of the tight curling hair beneath her palm. Her other hand went to the nape of his neck, holding onto him as if he were a figment of her imagination and he would disappear if she let go. Just when she began to feel light-headed from lack of oxygen and the intensity of the sensations assaulting her, he released her, took a step back, and grasped the chain connecting her manacled wrists. “Come, little one, this night is ours.”

Keeping a secure grip on the chain, thus keeping her at his side, they went down the hallway and into the large dining room which had been converted into a ballroom for the grand opening. They paused near the row of lace covered French doors which made up the back wall of the room. Retrieving a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, he handed it to Tessa before surveying the assembled, elaborately costumed guests. Although Tessa found it difficult to pull her gaze from the incredibly handsome man at her side, but curious as to what Jessica was up to, she too glanced around the crowded room. Locating her friend wasn’t difficult. Leave it up to Jessica to improvise upon the role she was supposed to be playing. Instead of being one of many in a harem, Jess was acting like a queen holding court over her own male harem of willing subjects. Among the other guests, Tessa spotted Mark Antony and Cleopatra, Sampson and Delilah, Romeo and Juliet, and then there were the singles such as the cowboy, the cop, Madonna, and Marilyn Monroe, just to name a few. He reached toward the table and snatched a full bottle of champagne. “We’re out of here.” He opened the French door nearest them and pulled her onto the deserted patio. It was an unseasonably warm night for late October, with only a slight chill in the air. Despite the strapless top she was wearing, Tessa didn’t feel the cold, she felt warmed from the inside out. Even though he still had a hold on the chain between her bound wrists, it didn’t even occur to Tessa to question where they were going or what he had in mind as he continued across the balcony, down the steps, and onto the lawn. She would have followed him with or without the confining chain. Instead of finding the prickly, damp, grass beneath her bare feet uncomfortable, she found the sensation stimulating, almost erotic. Everything about this night was erotic. He paused beside the splashing, dimly lit fountain on the back lawn. Inside, the band switched to slow and romantic. The old song Stardust was unmistakable. He sat the bottle on the fountain’s concrete ledge, laced the chain behind his neck, and took her into his arms. On the lawn beneath stars which were so brilliant, Tessa felt as if she could reach up and touch them, they danced to the romantic melodies filtering from the mansion onto the lawn. When the band stopped playing, no doubt time for a break, he gripped her waist and lifted her to sit upon the ledge of the fountain. Popping the cork on the champagne bottle, his eyes never left hers as he tipped the bottle and took a drink then held the bottle to her lips. Tessa took a drink and still he held the bottle to her lips until champagne dripped from her mouth, down her neck and onto her chest. Only then did he set the bottle aside. Gripping her shoulders, he kissed the excess champagne from her lips. The night air had chilled the liquid upon her flesh, making his tongue seem almost hot by comparison. Her head dropped back, giving him easy access as his tongue licked the champagne from her neck, across the swell of her breasts, and into the cleavage between. Tessa couldn’t restrain the moan which escaped her parted lips. His hands slid slowly down her arms to her waist, then upward. She held her breath, anticipating the feel of his hands upon her passion swollen breasts which were straining against the tight confines of the restrictive corset. Instead of touching her as she expected, his fingers toyed with the bow between her breasts. The bow which secured the ribbon that laced up the corset. Gently, too gently, too slowly, he tugged at the ends, and the bow came apart. He pulled the ribbon from the hooks one at a time until her top was loose enough he could pull it apart and expose her breasts to his gaze and to the night air. Her nipples, which had already hardened, became almost painfully so.

“You are so incredibly beautiful,” he whispered. At last he gave her the pleasure of feeling his hands upon her. His thumbs rubbed back and forth against her sensitized nipples. “Oh God,” Tessa gasped helplessly as her insides coiled into knots of tension. “I’m going to make love to you. You know that, don’t you?” “I know,” Tessa responded without reservation. “If you don’t want this, if you have any doubts, tell me now. If I go any further, there will be no stopping.” Tessa’s gave him a wordless response to his question. She draped the chain behind his neck, as he had done while they were dancing, and raised her lips to his. This kiss was even more intense than the one they had shared in the library, which didn’t seem possible. Tessa was lost in a mind numbing haze of passion, so caught up in the sensations he aroused within her she was incapable of refusing this man anything. He could take her here upon the fountain, on the damp grass, or against a tree, she didn’t care. She only knew she needed this man with every fiber of her being, and she needed him soon, or she was sure the heart thundering within her chest would explode from the exertion. He scooped her up into his arms, picked up the champagne bottle, and carried her toward the mansion. Bypassing the French doors on the patio, he went through a side door and up a second staircase. Once they were inside a bedroom illuminated by only the fire in the fireplace and candles flickering within multi-faceted crystal containers, he closed the door with his foot. He carried her across the room and slowly lowered her to her feet in front of a standing, full-length, oval mirror framed in a gleaming oak. “Give me the key, and I’ll remove the manacles,” he offered. “I don’t have it.” He groaned deep in his throat, then favored her with a deliberately sinister grin. “It looks like you are at my mercy, to do with as I please.” “Yes, I guess I am,” Tessa admitted. He leaned down and kissed her gently. “Do you trust me?” “Yes,” was the only response she was capable of giving. It was a response he rewarded with another gentle kiss before he stepped behind her and removed his shirt. His hands went to the knot holding her mask in place, and she stiffened instinctively. “I know who you are, Tessa. I would know you anywhere,” he informed her then removed the blindfold type mask. “I want to watch your face, your eyes, when I touch you.” He was quiet, waiting to see if, unmasked, her inhibitions would take over. They didn’t. Tessa held her ground. With a sigh of satisfaction, he reached around her, gripped her wrists, and pulled her arms up and back until the chain was once again draped behind his neck, the position of her arms forcing her breasts

forward. “Don’t move,” he instructed. His hands went to her waist where he released the button on her skirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing before him and the mirror in only a partially unlaced corset and a skimpy pair of bikini panties. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against his chest. “Keep your eyes opened, Tessa. I want you to watch what I do to you. I want you to see how beautiful you are.” Tessa did as she was told. She watched as his hands completed the task of unlacing the corset, and it too joined her skirt upon the floor. She watched as his hands covered and caressed her breasts, watched as his thumbs and forefingers teased and tugged at her nipples until he had her moaning and gasping for breath. Then his hands moved lower, caressing the flesh of her rib cage, her flat stomach, and into the sides of her bikini panties, and began sliding them down her hips. “Don’t move,” he reminded her as he nipped gently at the nape of her neck, kissed down her spine, until the final barrier was at her ankles. And still she stood as instructed, her arms raised, bent at the elbow, the chain cool against her spine where the flesh had been heated by his lips. He tugged at her panties, indicating that she step free. As he rose slowly behind her, his hands slid up her calves and up the insides of her thighs until he stood with his arms around her, his thumbs barely touching the dark curls between her legs. His tongue slid across her shoulder and up the side of her neck, then his heated gaze caught and held hers within the mirror. Exerting pressure on her thighs, he forced her to widen her stance to give him easier access. Tessa gasped as one hand covered her, then moaned as a finger slipped inside. Her legs nearly gave out, forcing him to move his other arm across her chest to hold her upright. “You are so tight. So hot and wet for me. Watch yourself as I make you come,” he whispered in her ear. Although still clothed to the waist, he pressed his erection between her buttocks, forcing her to squirm back against him. The hand at her chest closed over her breast. The hand between her legs inserted a second finger into her and began to move. Her breathing became ragged as Tessa felt herself climb toward the first orgasm of her life. “Oh yes, that’s it,” he crooned against her ear. “Don’t struggle for it. Just relax ,and let me take you there.” Tessa didn’t recognize herself as the gasping woman wantonly arching herself against the hand between her spread legs. “Now, Tessa. Let it go. Come for me, now,” he ordered. He pressed into her from behind, his hand squeezed her breast, and he pushed his fingers into her as hard and as deep as they would go. And she did. He kept with her, drawing it out until she slumped back against him, spent. Grasping her wrists, he lowered her arms then picked her up and carried her to the bed, sitting her gently on the edge. Standing before her, he removed his boots and his socks. Then his hands went to his belt, unfastening it slowly as she watched. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pushed down britches and undershorts in one steady glide. Rising, he stood confident and erect before her startled gaze. She knew a man wasn’t thought of as beautiful, but to her eyes he was. Just as she had known he would be. She just hadn’t expected him to be so . . . large. Remembering how painful her last experience

had been, Tessa was unable to disguise the uncertainty in her eyes. “Trust me not to hurt you,” he assured her as he moved closer. “Touch me,” he coaxed. Tessa reached out, and he grasped the chain, guiding her hands until they closed around the hot, hard flesh of his erection. His soft moan excited her all over again and gave her the confidence to explore him further. She slid one hand up the length of him and the other downward to cup him in her palm. With the tip of her finger, she spread the moisture beading the tip and exerted a little pressure with both hands. He gasped and thrust instinctively in her hands. Realizing she affected him as strongly as he affected her was a heady sensation. She was no longer uneasy. She was hot again, and she wanted, needed more. Doing something she had never imagined she would willing do with any man, Tessa leaned forward and took him between her lips. Using her lips and tongue, she took him as deep as she could comfortably take him. His fingers slid into her hair and guided her movements. “Oh, God,” he gasped, his breathing becoming as ragged as hers had been. Noting the quivering in his thighs, Tessa recognized the power she possessed for the first time. Emboldened, she doubled her efforts, determined to do for him what he had done for her. “Stop, Tessa,” he ordered. When she didn’t obey immediately, he used her hair for leverage and pulled her away from him. That he was struggling for control was obvious in the tautness of his muscles, his erratic breathing, and the muscle twitching in his clenched jaw. Gripping her by the waist, he moved her up onto the bed until her head was on the pillows. Grasping both wrists in one hand, he lifted her arms and slipped the chain over one of the wooded spindles on the headboard. Moving between her legs, he forced them apart with his knees. His hands went to her breasts, no longer gentle but strong and forceful without being painful. His head swooped downward, his lips grazing but barely touching hers. She turned her head seeking contact, but he eluded her. “Don’t move a muscle,” he commanded. Again his lips barely grazed hers, then returned tempting and teasing until she found herself straining to make contact despite her bonds and his instructions not to move. His tongue snaked out to trace the outline of her lips, then the seam between. Her lips parted to admit his, but he pulled away. Every time he leaned forward to tease her with his lips, his erection brushed against the place where she suddenly needed him desperately. She instinctively arched upward in an attempt to encourage him to enter her. He slid further down the bed, focusing on her breasts. At first he teased her nipples with his tongue, occasionally pulling her gently into the hot wetness of his mouth to suckle gently. She didn’t want gentle and slow. He was driving her crazy. In this he let her have her way. He nipped at her nipple with his teeth, the sensation just on the pleasure side of pain, and she went wild beneath him. “You like that, don’t you?” he taunted, redoubling his efforts on her breasts. He squeezed and caressed one breast while he sucked forcefully on the other. Tessa’s womb began to clench and unclench within her. “Please,” she gasped. “I can’t take any more.” “Yes, you can,” he insisted. To prove his point, he slid further down on the bed until he looked up at her

from between her legs. His tongue snaked out and flicked at the sensitized bud, and Tessa jerked as if an electrical current had been shot through her. Showing no mercy, his lips closed around the bud which he alternately suckled gently and flicked with his tongue. Tessa’s climb toward climax was rapid and intense. Just when she reached the peak ready to fall, he pulled back, leaving her suspended. Moving up the bed, he positioned himself before leaning down and kissing her gently. “You’re wonderful,” he whispered as he pressed barely a couple of inches into her. Watching her response, he paused to give her body time to adjust to his size. It wasn’t nearly enough for Tessa. She had come this far, and she wanted it all. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pulled him in deeper then gasped at the uncomfortable sensation of fullness stretching her insides. “Easy, sweetheart,” he cautioned. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just relax, and let me take care of you.” She tried to do as he instructed, but the full sensation was rapidly giving way to another climb toward orgasm. Again she arched into him and attempted to pull him in deeper with her legs. He didn’t resist her a second time, thrusting forward forcefully he buried himself to the hilt inside her. It only took two thrusts, and she was there, screaming with the intensity of her orgasm. He held himself rigid until the last spasms of her orgasm passed and she lay relaxed and sated beneath him. Only then did he begin a slow, steady rhythm within her. Tessa’s eyes snapped opened, her expression one of surprise. “This time, we make love,” he informed her, then proceeded to do exactly that. Tessa had no idea when he removed the chain from the headboard, in fact, he had somehow removed the manacles altogether which gave her the freedom to touch and caress him, just as he caressed her heated flesh. They made love and drank champagne from the bottle and from each other’s flesh and made love again, until she slipped into a sated, contented sleep in his arms. Tessa turned in her sleep and woke to the sensation of something tickling her nose. Opening her eyes, she found a single daisy lying upon the pillow beside her. Before she’d fallen asleep, she had somehow known he would be gone when she woke. Rising from the bed, Tessa quickly dressed and surveyed her disheveled appearance within the oval standing mirror. Her long dark hair which had taken Jessica so long to style into a rumpled, windblown look, now appeared naturally so from hours of lovemaking. In her left hand she held the manacles and in her right she held the blindfold styled mask and realized how symbolic they both seemed at this moment. Jessica had been right. It was ironic that she’d had to come to a masquerade ball dressed as The Captive, to make her understand that most of her life she had been a subservient, willing captive to other people’s expectations of her, without taking into consideration her own wants, needs, and desires. As The Captive, she hadn’t been playing a role at all, she’d seen herself clearly for the first time. From early childhood, she had believed that to be loved and accepted she had to be what others expected rather than to be who she really was. The problem was, she had played the role so long she no longer knew where Ms. Prim and Proper ended and the real Tessa Brandt began. Her Phantom Lover had removed her shackles both literally and figuratively. As a result of this one

fantasy interlude, Tessa knew she could no longer settle for the complacent, safe existence she had been living. It wouldn’t be like the sarcastic retort she had tossed at her friend earlier, she didn’t become Cinderella at the stroke of midnight with her life magically changed forever. She was realistic enough to know it would take time. Though remembering the uninhibited passion she had shared, Tessa certainly felt like a somewhat wanton version of Cinderella at this moment. She had never felt so free nor so alive. With a defiant toss of her head, Tessa stuffed both the manacles and the mask into her handbag, stuck the daisy into her hair, and went in search of her friend. She found Jessica in the library pacing up and down in front of a desk, the phone glued to her ear as if she was determined not to hang up until someone picked up at the other end. When Tessa entered the room, Jess dropped the receiver onto the cradle. “Where the hell have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve been frantic. When I didn’t see you in the ballroom, I figured you got cold feet and split. I’ve phoned your house every half hour for the past three hours.” “I’ve been here all the time,” Tessa remarked casually. “I looked everywhere for you, short of peeking in every closed bedroom d . . . door?” Jessica concluded then gasped, “Oh, my God, you got lucky!” For Tessa, the memory of this night was too precious to share, even with her best friend. Her lips parted, about to spout some outlandish tale which bore no resemblance to the actual events, when the portrait hanging above the fireplace caught her eye. She was no longer capable of speech. Her feet carried her to stand behind the winged back chair facing the fireplace, the one in which he had been sitting. Her legs were suddenly so weak, had she not been gripping the back of the chair Tessa wasn’t sure they would hold her. “Jessica, who is the man in the painting?” she whispered when she was at last able to force words past a throat which had tightened up on her. “Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Jessica answered. “That’s Bryce Mathison, the man who built Rosehaven in 1856.” The man smiling down from the painting was so familiar, Tessa’s heart stuttered within her chest. He was wearing tight black britches tucked into knee-high riding boots and a black silk shirt opened to the waist. His hair was black as a raven’s wing and his eyes were a deep, dark, mesmerizing onyx. Standing beside his horse within a field of daisies, his hand was extended as if he were offering a single daisy to a lover who stood just beyond the canvas.