A Holiday Prayer

He lifted his hand from her hip and gently placed his forefinger over her lips. “No. You don’t have to explain. Just dance with me.”

She nodded, losing track of her thoughts in liquid black eyes reminiscent of some Native American ancestor and confirmed by his angular features and aquiline nose.

He shifted slightly, pulling her into his chest so that his hand now rested at the small of her back. It was a modest gesture, but enough for her to feel the rock-hard ripples of his shoulder under her cheek.

She inhaled deeply, then fought the sense of guilt assaulting her even as the faint spice of the Phantom’s aftershave made her nostrils tingle.

Oh God, she prayed as grief washed over her. How she missed Peter.

Deep inside her heart, the part of her that had agonized through every lonely night, mourning Peter’s death, facing the achingly empty king-size bed alone, struggling through empty days, needed to move closer into the embrace of her Phantom gentleman.

She was relieved that he wasn’t trying to make idle conversation. She didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to be held. If only for a moment. To feel the brush of warm breath tickle her ear. To revel in strong arms encircling her waist.

But how could she?

She pulled back, opening the space between them. She should turn around and walk away. This instant, while she still had the strength to do so.

The Phantom’s warm hand lightly resting on her back sent shivers up her spine that had nothing to do with cold. Her spirit soared.

With a deep inner sigh, she allowed him to draw her closer. Being in his arms felt good and right. She would face her regrets tomorrow.

For tonight, she was going to dance.

Chapter Two (#ulink_19c33dbb-e274-5381-b512-1c346eea2286)

The Phantom leaned back to study the petite woman in his arms. Her face, framed by cinnamon-brown hair, was rosy with color. In her silvery ball gown and glass slippers she made a perfect Cinderella.

Though he still wasn’t certain why, she’d caught his eye the moment he had entered the ballroom. Perhaps it was because she looked small, and shy, and completely ill at ease.

He suspected that there was a latent fireman in him someplace, because she looked just like a little lost kitten stranded in a treetop. He felt like grabbing a ladder and rescuing her. Putting a smile on her heart-shaped face, a sparkle in her shadowed brown eyes.

He shifted forward so he could feel the satin softness of her cheek against his. Immediately, he felt her muscles bunch as if she were preparing to spring from his grasp.

She seemed as jumpy as a jackrabbit being chased by a fox. But if she wanted to run away, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. There was something familiar about her—something he couldn’t name, but which compelled him to keep her close.

He hadn’t even planned to come to the benefit in the first place. He rarely went out anymore.

And he never danced. What had drawn him onto the dance floor was as much a mystery to him as was the woman in his arms.

It didn’t matter anyway. He was here now. And he didn’t plan to leave. Or to let her go.

His face lingered near her bare shoulder, inhaling her light, musky fragrance. She wasn’t smothered in expensive perfume like most women of his acquaintance. No. She smelled like…

Moonlight.

If there were any way to blot out the nightmare of thoughts haunting him, it would be this beautiful woman.

He leaned back and smiled down at her, feeling her body stiffen when his gaze met hers.

Why was she so afraid?

His throat tightened at the look of utter helplessness in her huge brown eyes, and he became suddenly determined to change the course of her evening.

Before the night was through, he vowed to himself, he would hear the sweet sound of her laughter.

Maddie expected him to release her after the song ended, but he continued to sway back and forth as if the orchestra continued to play. She glanced around the room, terrified that she was making a spectacle of herself, but no one seemed to notice the still-dancing couple.

Moments later she heard the shrill wail of a saxophone and sagged with relief as the Phantom adjusted their steps to the beat of the new song. He was obviously determined to enjoy the evening. With her.

Well, so was she. With him.

“What’s your name?” he whispered into her ear.

Maddie stepped back and curtsied playfully. “I thought you would have guessed by now,” she teased. “Cinderella, of course!”

The Phantom let out a full-bodied laugh that caused those dancing around them to peer at them curiously.

“We’re going to play games, are we?” He took a step back and gave an elegant bow. “I guess that would make me your Phantom.”

Maddie was more than content to leave the introductions at that. They would all unmask at midnight, after all. If she stayed that long…

She had a sneaking suspicion she just might.

For the moment she was content just to remain in his arms and lose herself in the music. It was pure magic, and she didn’t intend to waste a single moment.

The song came to a close and the orchestra’s lead violist surprised everyone by breaking out in a fiddling tune. In moments a country line-dance was formed.

Her Phantom chuckled and drew her to the edge of the floor. “Sorry, love. I don’t do country.”

Maddie shrugged. It wasn’t hard to smile. Country wasn’t her style, either. “I’m ready for a break.”

The Phantom indicated a chair and held it for her, while she gathered her skirts and sat. “Are you thirsty? Why don’t I get you some…” His sentence trailed off.

She looked up, surprised. His eyes were cloudy and unreadable. He seemed to be sidetracked by something at the far corner of the ballroom.

She followed his gaze but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Unless it was one of a number of beautiful young women over there.

She replied, “No, that’s okay. I’m not thirsty.”

But the Phantom was not listening. He was already walking away from her, his mind obviously elsewhere. As if with great effort, he tossed one quick glance back at her. “Excuse me. I’ll just…”

And then he was gone.

Maddie sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, though she could feel a hesitant smile still hovering on her lips.

Her fantasy was over. And she really should be angry with the man for abandoning her so abruptly. But the lovely warmth, telling her that she still had a heart, lingered. She felt alive, really alive, for the first time in years.

There would be no regrets. It didn’t matter that she’d been deserted for fresher prey. She was more than content just to sit here and watch wildly costumed dancers wiggling to some latest craze in line-dancing.