Author's Note: I'd like to give a special thanks to magicfingerrs for sending me a sketch of Christine from my story, thanks lovely!

Erik felt that his mind, with all of its better judgments, had abandoned him completely. He was no longer noble, he was only a hot-blooded male. He could not rationalize or even hope to form a sentence in his mind, much less speak.

The only thing that he could understand was what his eyes were taking in with greedy pleasure. A woman, Christine, was lying out on his bed, naked and obviously waiting for him to take her. Erik felt his eyes and mouth begin to water at the sight of her, just as his heart began to speed up and his body met a swift and powerful arousal.

Christine blinked at him, shifted slightly on the bed. She held out her hand to him, beckoning him to come closer. Erik could not resist, and somehow his feet carried him to the bed and into her arms. His lips found hers, tongues entwined, soft bites; his hands cradled her waist while one leg moved over hers to bring her closer. The towel was all that was between them.

Her lips moved from his mouth, to his scars, to his neck. Touching, tasting. Erik's eyes slipped closed in pleasure. He was drowning in Christine's scent of honeyed vanilla. He speared his fingers through her golden hair, smiling as he felt it catch and curl over his hands.

Beautiful, so painfully beautiful, and she was his!

Erik took in a breath as he felt her pert, naked breasts brush against his chest. Overcome, Erik rolled Christine onto her back so that he could have more of her; more of her lips and throat, her breasts and stomach, anything that he could kiss or touch. He laid a hand over her breast, softly cupping the flesh, enjoying its weight in his hand, the softness of her skin.

He wanted her; Erik kissed her again, long and lingering. She was beneath him now, pinned by the weight of his larger body. Christine moaned and whimpered, all female, her hands ran over his chest and back, cupping his face, running through his hair.

He took hold of her waist, bringing them into full contact with each other. She arched against him, causing Erik to groan. She could feel his arousal against her- it was frightening. Christine looked into his eyes, her voice was husky and very hesitant. She touched his face.

"Erik, please don't make it hurt," she whispered in a quiet plea.

Erik froze. Hurt her? Hurt her?!

He rolled away from her and threw an arm over his eyes. Good God, had he almost taken her, even after all he knew of her past and the promise that he'd made to himself?

He waited awhile, for his pulse to return to normal, for his breathing to even out. Finally, he turned back to look at her. Erik was thankful that she'd had the presence of mind to pull a sheet to cover herself. He swallowed before speaking. "Christine, I would never hurt you,"

She was visibly upset, "God, Erik, I'm such an idiot! I'm sorry, I never should have done this," she said, very near to tears.

Erik sat up beside her, and gestured to the hook on the wall on her side of the bed. "Christine…would you just hand me my robe, please?" he asked. "I can't talk to you like this," he said, meaning the towel still draped over his lap, barely concealing his arousal.

Christine wiped her eyes and nodded, reaching for the robe and handing it over to him. Erik nodded his thanks and took it from her, quickly ridding himself of the towel and slipping into the robe, belting it tightly. "I'm sorry Erik," she whispered, head in her hands.

Her voice was so quiet and so wretchedly unhappy. Erik turned and took her into his arms, hugging her tightly. He kissed her temple and began to whisper to her, "It's all right Christine," he soothed, stroking her hair and back. He kissed the crown of her head and then her forehead. "I'm not angry, please, calm down."

Erik released Christine and she moved back to look at him.

This man, this wonderful man…

His skin was burning hot against hers- he still wanted her, but his eyes held only deep concern; as if he were to blame, as if he should be the one seeking forgiveness.

"Erik, I just…you've given me so much, I thought this was what you wanted," she said.

It was the wrong thing to say, and Christine regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. Erik was facing the window. The strange white light of New York snow dimly filled the room, highlighting the smooth contours of his face as well as the jagged scars that would mark him for life.

His brow furrowed and his bright eyes flashed at her. When he spoke, his voice suddenly sounded very tired and more than a bit hurt. "Christine…just go. We won't speak of this in the morning."

He then turned away from her, effectively killing any chance for her to amend what she'd said. Christine hurriedly slipped into her own robe and retreated back to the guestroom, where she should have stayed in the first place.

The puppies alerted to her reentrance, but only King moved towards her. Snow was curled in the doggy bed in the corner but must have felt left out, for she soon jumped up onto Christine's bed to join them. There she was, naked but for a robe loose over her shoulders, surrounded by bags and boxes of the most beautiful couture from all over New York, and two beautiful pups who were no comfort at all, crying for yet more damage that she'd caused to the man who'd given her so much.

Erik was gone when Christine finally found the courage to emerge from her room. She had put on one of the robes that Claudette had bought for her, and tried to ignore the number of zeroes on the price tag. Her guilt had mounted with every step she took around the empty apartment. Christine frowned and wondered how she could fix things between them.

In all honesty, she truly had thought that Erik would expect her to go to his bed after treating her to a shopping spree. Claudette had explained things.

When a man takes a mistress, but most especially if he allows the mistress to live under his roof, the man expects his woman to look her best and always make herself available to him. She is his date to any public appearance he might make, the hostess when his friends or business associates visit, and most importantly, she is his immediate lover.

As Erik had showered the night before, Christine had thought over Claudette's words of advice. She had wrung her hands on the couch, her stomach knotted in tension. It wasn't that she was afraid of Erik; in fact she felt safer with him than with anyone else. It wasn't that she thought Erik would hurt her, or…or be rough with her. It wasn't that she didn't want Erik. She cared about him very much. Erik was a strong, desirable man. Christine couldn't care less about his scars.

She wanted him.

Her hesitation and fear had nothing at all to do with Erik himself, everything was on her. The night of Michael's attack was a hazy memory, nearly a year past. His physical abuse had been a constant since the moment her mother had allowed him to step in and replace her father as the head of their family. He'd often been surly and argumentative; he'd been a drunk from the beginning. It was only after he'd beaten all the fight out of her mother that he'd turned his aggression onto Christine.

It had started with hard pinches and stinging strikes with a belt, Christine had quickly learned how to avoid trouble in any way she could, but she'd never fully bowed down to him. She'd made a promise to herself never to become like her mother, so pathetic and weak that she'd let a man control every aspect of her life.

Over the years the aggression between Michael and Christine had escalated until the two of them had gotten into a furious argument. Rebecca had long since resigned herself to Michael's whims, but when his whimsical mind had turned to Christine, things had taken a turn for the worse.

She put a hand to her temple. 'I can't remember everything; only that we'd been screaming at each other upstairs…I woke up in the hospital with a concussion and a broken leg…the doctor assured me that I would dance again. Was lap dancing what he'd had in mind for me?'

Christine touched her left leg; in shoving her down the stairs, Michael had accomplished what he'd been hoping for in that last miserable year with his wife and beautiful stepdaughter. With the broken leg, Christine's body was left incredibly vulnerable; with the concussion and pain medication, her mind had been too clouded to put up any resistance when he'd come into her room that night in Miami.

'I don't remember what he did, but I remember what he took from me.'

Perhaps not physically, but mentally, Christine still considered herself a virgin. What did she know of how to please a man? There had not been any boyfriends; there had been no one. All Christine knew was what she had seen in movies and read in women's magazines. The other dancers had been candid enough with the details of their men, from size and technique to dirty talk and the many forms of kinky sex. Men were bizarre creatures; it was frightening, really, the tales she'd heard.

Claudette had teased her throughout the day as she'd made Christine presentable for Erik.

"Do not be fooled, Christine. There are the gentlemen and there are the animals. Erik is both, but not at the same time. The man is a tiger in the bed, you must be the same to please him."

Christine stood, and had thought to offer herself up to Erik. She'd stripped down to nothing and made quick work of preparing her body for him. She'd lured him into bed with her but Erik had rejected her, rightfully so. How could she have said something so…vile in its implication? Hadn't Erik made it clear to her that he'd not wanted her just for sex? That he wasn't paying her to be with him?

'I can't have ruined everything with a few careless words. I was nervous, I didn't mean to say any of that! I have to find a way to talk to him and fix this...'

The puppies shadowed her every step throughout the loft as Christine searched for the man. No luck, he was gone. Christine had his cell number, she could call him if she wanted, but what was there that she could say over the telephone that would ease the tension from the night before?

Nothing!

Nothing, so she shrugged to herself and decided to get ready for the day.

Christine went into the shower, lovingly washing her hair and soaping her body. She rubbed honey lotion into her skin on emerging from the stall, and made quick work of drying her hair, leaving it to flow down her back in a shining wave of gold. The pups were waiting in the hallway as she came out, wrapped in a towel. They whined and started jumping at her, following her back into the guestroom.

"Hey, hey, stop that," she scolded as King nipped at her ankles. "You can't herd me, you little nut. Cut it out," she laughed as she pushed him away. Snow continued to jump at her, the little dog's nails bit into Christine's thighs and she swatted at them both with the towel to keep them back. "Give me a minute, please! You can walk around outside naked, but I can't."

Because the dogs were starting to drive her crazy, Christine abandoned all the detailed care she was going to put into her wardrobe selection, and just took the dark indigo wash jeans from the night before, and one of the cream cashmere sweaters that Claudette had insisted on buying for her. As she gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror, Christine had to admit that the chic redhead had brilliant taste. Even the simple outfit she was wearing looked like it could have been torn from the latest issue of Allure magazine.

She blew herself a kiss in the mirror and winked before finding the dogs' leashes and setting off for the park.

"I just don't understand how you can possibly complain about having a beautiful, naked 20-year-old throwing herself at you! My God, man, would you listen to yourself?! I swear, you'd be beaten to death if anyone else on this campus heard you say that," Derek groused as Erik paced up and down the length of his office.

The room was what could be expected of a middle-aged science scholar. His obsession with chemistry and medical research to the exclusion of all else had earned him the affectionate nickname "Mad Scientist" from the university staff. His office was a desk and lab table, both of which were covered by loose paperwork, journals full of half-finished equations, Bunsen burners and beakers of all different sizes.

A few UFO posters- gifts from students, he'd claimed- added color to the walls. He sat behind his desk, faintly amused and bewildered by the story Erik had just told him.

"You think this is funny?" Erik demanded in irritation. He didn't pause in his pacing, his stride only increased, a direct mirror to his agitation.

Derek rubbed his glasses and laughed. "It's a little funny, yes. Here you are, more money than God, with a trail of women after you and the moment that it's one of them making a move, you run in here terrified out of your mind,"

Erik shook his head, "It's not…listen, you just don't understand-"

"You're damn right I don't understand! Hell, if a 20-year-old decided to jump into my bed, naked, you really think I'd be at work today? If anything I'd probably be in the hospital from a heart attack after being up all night screwing the girl's brains out!" Derek laughed.

He laughed alone, for Erik had just taken on a dark glare. "Don't talk about her like that,"

Derek took a deep breath and became serious, "All right Erik, I didn't mean your girl specifically. Relax. Take a seat and please explain to me why, oh why, would you refuse a naked woman?"

Erik sat down and ran a hand through his hair, "It just wasn't what I'd wanted. She didn't want me, she only wanted to repay me."

Derek leaned forward, "Repay you? Ah, Jesus, Erik, she was a hooker?"

"No, my mistress- my last mistress, if all goes well. She's wonderful, I only want her." Erik muttered, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"I'm sorry, did you say 'mistress'?"

Erik glared tiredly. "It's what the wealthy call their girlfriends," he said in irritation. "Luckily, you'll never have cause to use either word because you are neither wealthy nor attractive to women,"

Derek laughed, "Have I told you how much I enjoy your visits? You come in here telling me there's a naked 20-year-old that practically jumped you last night, and yet you refused for…sorry, what was the reason again?"

"God, why do I tell you anything?!" He demanded, throwing up his hands.

Derek shot him a look, "Where else would you go, Erik? Who else do you have to talk to?"

Erik laughed a little. "When you're right, you're right."

"Just explain, and feel free to go into all kinds of details- start where you walked in on her naked," Derek said seriously.

Erik rolled his eyes. "Look- the long and short of it is this: Christine, the girl, tried to have sex with me last night because she felt that she owed me money."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "Money. Right, and where did money get into this?"

Erik sighed, "Money has been at the root of this. I let Claudette- an assistant, of sorts- take Christine out to go shopping for some clothes and whatever all else. She basically thought to sleep with me in a way to clear her debt." He said, relieved to have it all out. "I wasn't keeping a tab, none of it mattered to me. I just wanted her to feel special, and warm."

"Warm?"

"She was very poor before- you wouldn't believe where she's been living, a room-for-rent in Chinatown. Her clothes were all so worn out, and I only wanted her to have some nice things. The details don't matter. I want things to work- I want a companion like everyone else." Erik said tiredly.

Derek shrugged. "Well, Erik. You're not helping anything by telling me all your troubles. Here's an idea, just tell her you want a fresh start- erase what happened last night, and start over again. You can skip the awkwardness of the start of a relationship, and fast forward to all the good things that come with living with a woman." Derek said with a faint air of wonderment, as if the idea that had just occurred was a stroke of pure genius.

"And the sex?"

"Don't talk about it- I'm no Don Juan lover myself, Erik, but even I can tell you that seduction rarely begins with words. It's your actions that count."

Christine watched as Snow and King wandered in erratic patterns, their noses buried in the icy grass at their feet. Occasionally they would lift their heads just long enough to take a look around, but then it would be back to the ground. Christine wondered what on earth could be so interesting to them that they had to smell everything.

The pups were small, but when leashed together they had managed to drag Christine all over Central Park. She was tired and had finally let them off the leashes to play in the fenced dog field so that she could catch her breath.

She tried not to think about Erik- it wouldn't do to worry over him the whole day; she planned on talking to him and explaining herself whenever she next saw him. 'This is too new, I can't ruin us before we've even started.'

The pups were now sniffing and being sniffed by other dogs that joined them in the field. There was a brown Pomeranian, a few Labrador Retrievers and an enormous English mastiff. The mastiff was easily twice Christine's weight, and he worried her a little; by the looks of things, the dog could kill both her pups just by rolling over on them!

King and Snow were behaving as the pups they were- curious, playful, and slightly annoying to the older dogs. Snow, in trying to get a playmate, had already earned a nip to the ear for bothering a Dalmatian, while King appeared to be posturing himself against a fully-grown Boxer.

Christine shook her head and tried not to laugh as the Boxer ignored King, even as he jumped on her and made a pest of himself. She let her eyes wander the dog park, watching with great appreciation the myriad of different size, color and breed. She'd always loved dogs, they were the most wonderful animals.

An elegant Harlequin Great Dane strode into the dog park, all confidence and mellow authority. Christine couldn't help but watch as the enormous creature checked in with the other dogs, sniffing respectably before turning his attention to the pups.

She gripped the leashes a little tighter as the dog walked straight up to Snow and pressed her onto her back. It was normal dog-to-dog behavior, Christine knew, but the Great Dane was big enough to eat both Snow and King if he wanted. She watched as the Dane sniffed at the prone Snow, but he was quickly distracted by King, who had just head-butted his leg and barked. The Dane turned and before Christine knew it, they were playing!

She smiled and laughed, thankful that all seemed to be going well.

The dogs played chase all over the field, even a few of the other breeds joined in.

"Admiring my Dane?"

Christine turned around, "Claudette!"

The French red looked as chic as ever in a casual pair of jeans topped with a blouse and tan pea coat. A clever newsboy capped her shag and her eyes were very bright. "The one and only," she groused.

Christine fumbled for the right words. "I didn't see you, I- that's your dog out there?"

Claudette nodded, "The Harlequin Dane, yes. Frankie."

"He's beautiful, but…somehow I didn't picture you as a Great Dane type of girl," she said.

Claudette raised an insolent eyebrow. "They were all out of poodles," she said dryly. "Besides, it never hurts to have a guard dog in this city. He's the best male that's ever been in my bed," she finished with a laugh.

Christine laughed too.

"Speaking of which, has Erik been in yours?"

Christine blushed, "Um…not exactly, things didn't really pan out that well. Look, he's coming home tonight and we're going to talk it all out,"

Claudette rolled her eyes. "You are so young, you have so much to learn. Erik is your first, isn't he?"

"My first what?" Christine asked quickly, suddenly tense.

"Well, your first man of course! Lasik can do wonders but I don't need the surgery to see that you are une vierge. No shame, Christine. Erik is a good man. It is because of him that I…nevermind. I only mean to say that he will take care of you, in all the ways that matter." Claudette nodded. "Now, come. Coffee. American swill, but even I admit to liking the mocha."

Christine nodded happily, glad to have found a friend and hopeful to get more advice on men. Claudette whistled and Christine admired the way Frankie obediently ran to her side. The pups followed the big Dane and Christine leashed them.

Claudette petted the pups and nodded approvingly. "Gifts from Erik?"

Christine nodded, proud of the wonderful changes in her life. "Yes, he gave them to me last night. They're both of ours. The white one is Snow, and the dark one is named King."

"Wonderful dogs! You must reward Erik,"

Christine swallowed, "Um, yes, about that…I was wondering if you could give me some advice?"

Claudette smiled. "I'm all ears."