Gideon, Robin - Desire of the Phantom [Ecstasy in the Old West] (Siren Publishing Classic) (7 page)

“What do you mean,
again?”

Without looking, Pamela placed her right hand down to
her holster. The hard, smooth, reassuringly familiar walnut
grip of the Colt greeted her palm. Somehow, Phantom had
slipped the revolver back into the holster without her ever
becoming aware of it.

“When did you…How?”

“I had tucked it into my waistband. When we were kissing, I didn’t want anything separating us, so I gave it
back to you,” Phantom explained. “You see, I trust you more
than you think.”

He reached out to brush his fingertips against Pamela’s
soft cheek. His gaze dipped down briefly to her breasts, which rose and fell with her deep, ragged breath
ing. Pamela felt her nipples tighten even more, her body responding instinctively to this wicked man’s seductive charm and heated gaze.

“Now it is time for you to trust me a little,” Phantom
continued, his throat tight with sexual tension as his fin
gertips passed along her cheek and throat. “I’ve got a plan to get away from here without anyone seeing us. Follow
me, and you’ll get out as well. Continue to fight me, and
you can take your chances with Darwell’s bodyguards. Inci
dentally, most have a price on their head in one territory
or another. That’s the kind of man Jonathon Darwell likes to
hire to carry a gun for him.”

Pamela had known that the men working for Darwell were dangerous, though she hadn’t known exactly how danger
ous until this moment. Studying Phantom, she wondered
how he could have learned so much about the Darwell man
sion and the men on the Darwell bankroll. The Midnight
Phantom was, beyond doubt, a most enigmatic man. He’d
opened the safe in Jonathon Darwell’s bedroom quickly, with
out knowing the combination, he’d returned a revolver to her holster without her being aware of it, and he’d kissed her
and made her enjoy it and made her want more.

“I’ll go with you,” Pamela heard herself say.

“All the way?” Phantom asked, reaching out to take Pamela’s
hand in his own, his fingers curling around hers.

Pamela nodded, quite certain she was getting
herself into something she couldn’t back out of, but she
knew a strange sense of freedom at having someone else
make the decisions for her.

* * * *

Pamela was surprised at Phantom’s ingenuousness
choice of an escape route. Holding her hand, he led her
along the roof to the rear of the mansion and there, where
the servants’ quarters were, he slipped them both down
from one balcony to the next until they were on the
ground.

“All the servants are working,” Phantom observed, “so this whole area of the mansion is completely deserted.”

“How did you know this side of the mansion contains
only servants’ quarters?” Pamela asked, kneeling on the
ground beside Phantom to search the shadows for guards
that might still be around.

When he did not reply, she did not press the point. There
was only so much information Phantom would allow her, she decided, and it would be in her best interests not to
push him beyond that limit.

“Here, put this on,” Phantom said, taking off his black
Stetson and handing it to Pamela. “Tuck your hair up inside.
You’ve got beautiful hair, but it shines in the moonlight
like a beacon.”

Pamela smiled, despite her fear, now that she was on the
ground. The voices of the security guards and of the guests
at the celebration in the ballroom were clearly audible.

He thought she had beautiful hair? Pamela wasn’t
certain how she should respond to the statement, so she said nothing at all. She wanted to make a comment, but she wasn’t nearly as confident in her words at Phantom, and she didn’t want to say something that would make her appear as naive as she felt.

As she tucked her long blonde tresses up beneath the
Stetson’s headband, she looked at Phantom. His hair was jet
black, perfectly parted on the left side, not overly long. Though he was once again in shadow—wasn’t he al
ways?—it seemed to her that his haircut was an excellent
one. Did that mean he was a man of wealth? Poor men,
she had noted, tended to have poor grooming habits, and
the Midnight Phantom was impeccably groomed.

Everything about the Midnight Phantom intrigued her.

“Come on, and stay low,” he instructed, once Pamela had
his hat in place.

This time Pamela reached out for his hand. For an instant, they stood motionless in the moonlight, looking into each other’s eyes, their fingers laced together, their hearts rac
ing with excitement.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I’ll get you out of this.”

“I won’t be afraid if you hold my hand,” Pamela said, with significantly more honesty than she had intended.

She immediately wished she hadn’t said a word. The last thing in the world the arrogant Phantom needed was
someone else having confidence in his abilities—and let
ting him know it.

They moved away from the mansion, racing across the
lawn until they reached the high surrounding wall. Here,
at the rear of the estate where security was most likely to
be breached, the wall was almost twice as high as it was on the street side. Pamela’s heart sank. How in the world could she scale such a high wall? She doubted that even Phantom could.

But instead of stopping at the wall, he banked sharply left, following the wall to the livery stable. Pamela’s heart was pounding and her mouth felt bone dry as they
pressed their backs to the livery’s side wall and listened to the
conversations of the hired men within.

She could hear laughing and arguing. The coachmen
of the wealthy guests at the celebration were responsible for getting their employers back into their respective car
riages and home.

“This way,” Phantom said, placing his hand at the small of Pamela’s back and urging her along the stable’s exterior wall. Across from them stood the security wall.

His hand warmed Pamela’s shirt, then her chemise, and as
her skin responded, it was as if she were in his arms again,
feasting upon his probing, intimate kisses.

They’d taken only three steps when the sound of a woman’s laugh stopped them in their tracks. A second later, a man and woman appeared in the shadows. They were in their forties, were well dressed and jovial, and both had drunk more than a glass or two of champagne.

“Walter, what has gotten into you tonight?” the woman
asked, laughing softly as she tried to sound annoyed.

“Give me half a chance, and I’ll show you,” Walter replied.

The woman’s laughter was suddenly silenced as he kissed her.

Pamela stood less than twenty feet away. Horrified at the
thought of being caught, but astonished at what she was
seeing, she recognized the couple now: Walter and Mar
garite English. Citizens of Whitetail Creek, they’d made a fortune
by bringing lumber and building materials to the territory. Both had earned prominence by spending time and money
with local church and charitable organizations. Three
summers earlier, when Pamela had sprained her ankle,
it had been Margarite
English who’d appeared unexpectedly at the Bragg house
with a large kettle of stew and three hearty loaves of bread.
It had been a simple act of kindness, but one Pamela had never for
gotten.

Now Pamela was on the verge of being caught by that very
same altruistic woman, and the thought of it distressed
her.
“Stop it now,” Margarite continued, making only a half-
hearted attempt to scramble out of her husband’s ardent
embrace. “This champagne has turned you into a wolf.”

“A wolf that wants to eat you alive!” Walter replied,
pulling his wife of more than two decades back into his
arms and firmly placing a hand over her breast.

Pamela was shocked that the Englishes were still so pas
sionate. For reasons she did not at all understand, she had
believed them too old and much too genteel to still be involved with something as tawdry as sexuality.

The moan of passion from Margarite told Pamela the
woman’s feelings were not those of a long-suffering wife
who had to bear up under her husband’s ardent demands.

Suddenly, Phantom took Pamela by the elbow, spinning her so that she faced him. He pulled her tightly into his arms
and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Pamela balled her hands into fists and jabbed them into his chest. How dare he kiss her at a time like this!

The commotion drew the attention Phantom had planned.
His back was to Margarite and Walter as he said in a
growl, “Go find your own love nest. This one’s spoken
for.”

“Sorry, good fellow, didn’t know,” Walter said, snickering. Margarite pulled frantically at her bodice, trying to get her dress properly arranged and buttoned.

After the couple had stepped out of the darkness and moved back toward the ballroom, Pamela heard Margarite say, “I’m so embarrassed. I hope they didn’t recognize us. I’ll never have another glass of champagne again. I’ll never go for a midnight stroll with you. Not as long as I live, Walter English.”

Alone once more, Pamela breathed a sigh of relief. Phantom’s quick thinking had saved them from discovery once again. How truly unprepared she was for this attack on Jonathon Darwell and his criminal empire!

“That was close,” she whispered. “You think fast.”

“I was going to kiss you anyway. Margarite and Walter just gave me the excuse,” he said with a boyish smile that was very seductive. He was apparently unfazed by how near they’d come to being discovered.

Once again with no idea of what kind of response she should make to his devilish teasing, Pamela said nothing.

They went to a ladder built into the rear wall of the livery stables and climbed up into the hayloft. Phantom unlatched the small door and eased himself inside. Pamela followed him, crawling on hands and knees to peer down over the edge at the men below.

There were nine of them, five playing cards, and four throwing dice. All were drinking heavily. This was a night when liquor was provided for everyone, and these men seemed determined to drink all they could.

Phantom tapped Pamela on the shoulder then moved away from the edge of the hayloft. She followed him toward the rear of the loft then knelt in the darkness, facing him. The loft was dusty, but she sensed they were safe in it. None of the hired hands would be feeding the horses this late at night, and there was no other reason for coming up here.

“Now what?” she asked in a whisper, distinctly aware of her proximity to Phantom. She doubted that she needed to work so hard at whispering. She was very close to Phantom, but she figured it was best to be safe.