Phantom Series Boxed Set by Julie Leto Read Free Book Online Page B

beautiful, headstrong woman, was a sensation he never wanted to forget. “I have no idea, my lady, but I do intend to find out.”
    Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could react. He squelched his instinct to twist out of her grip, startled by the heat of her flesh. She turned his hand and pressed her fingers tightly on his palm. Satisfied by what she felt there, she quickly scratched her nails across his skin.
    He winced. “Is this a new form of greeting?”
    She pulled his hand closer and watched as nail marks swelled.
    “You feel pain; you have a heartbeat and blood flow,” she assessed.
    Damon attempted to gently remove his hand from her grip, but she held tight. With no need to demonstrate his power at the moment, he simply arched a brow.
    She released him but showed no repentance for her audacious behavior.
    “You have not yet reciprocated,” he reminded her.
    “Excuse me?”
    Absently, he rubbed the spot where she’d marred his flesh. “Your name?”
    “Oh.” She thrust her hand at him. “Alexa Chandler, president and CEO of Crown Chandler Enterprises.”
    He glanced skeptically at her hand. He gave her a sweeping bow, then stepped aside.
    She pulled her hand back. “You weren’t solid before,” she said.
    “I daresay you know nothing of who I was before, Miss Chandler. Or is it Lady Chandler?”
    She snorted. “I take it you’re from England originally.”
    “We are not in Britain now?”
    “You’re in the United States.”
    He searched his brain but found nothing. “Where?”
    “Sorry. The colonies. Only we’re our own country now. You are now in the United States of America. But,” she said, her eyes narrowed as she dismissed the information she offered as insignificant, “when your hand went through the window upstairs, you were not solid. Now you are. Care to explain?”
    Damon pursed his lips. This woman was incredibly observant and wholly single-minded, and didn’t exhibit the least indication of fear in the face of the unknown or supernatural. Either the world had changed completely from when he last lived free, or else she was a remarkable woman of courage. From the painting, he’d watched her command the crew of sailors that had searched the castle for signs of his existence. He’d heard her negotiate and issue orders to the young man who’d shown concern over her safety, which she’d promptly dismissed. Clearly, this Alexa Chandler was a woman of importance and power.
    Just the sort of woman who might be able to set him completely free.
    “Yes, ‘twas I in the window, but no, I was not solid then as I am now.”
    “What changed?”
    “You. You unlocked my soul from the portrait.”
    “Your soul? You said you weren’t a ghost.”
    “I do not believe I ever died.”
    “How can you be sure?”
    He took a deep breath. “How can a ghost, whose body has perished, take solid form?”
    She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip charmingly while she pondered the situation. A thinker, this one. Practical and logical. He wasn’t sure he knew many women of her ilk in his day. Clearly, he was frequenting the company of the wrong women.
    “Okay, I’ll give you that one. Ghosts are not, to my limited knowledge, ever solid. Then what are you?” Her luminous eyes fixed on him, even as her voice pitched with desperation to understand. “Some sort of lunatic?”
    He smirked, though he supposed the possibility existed. The whole of the situation teetered on the absurd, but he knew enough about Rogan’s black magic to accept that this situation did not exist within a damaged mind. “I cannot say, but since you are presently the only person who can see or hear me, the onus of sanity would be on you, would it not?”
    She nodded. “Right. Can’t argue there. However you became trapped in the painting, you certainly aren’t stuck there any longer.”
    His gaze darted toward the door. The reins had loosened, but he was still trapped by Rogan’s curse.
    He’d emerged in a