Erik turned his face to the woman lying asleep beside him. Their joining had been nothing short of perfect to him. Christine was everything a man could want: intelligent, talented, beautiful, a lady in public and a passionate partner in private. He was still stunned that she loved him and wanted to be with him.

She shifted, half-turning toward him and reaching across his body. Her knee bent, gliding her leg up his thigh in a way that had him gasping. Her hand slipped down, moving feather light across his abdomen, sliding down, down.

He looked at her, realizing she was feigning sleep. All right, he thought, two can play that game, and he'd always been a quick learner. Rolling toward her, his hand skimmed down her torso, stopping to tease the dusky peaks pressing against his chest, then moving farther down to explore the hidden juncture of her thighs as she pressed against him.

She smiled and opened her eyes. "Ah my darling," she whispered, kissing the small dip between his collar bones. "Shall we continue our explorations?" Her hand curled around him as her smile widened. "Ah, I see you're ready."

His lean fingers probed her deeply, feeling her own readiness. "As are you, my darling."

. . . .

"Oh… oh my." Christine exhaled, collapsing over her lover's body, and pulling in great draughts of air.

Erik wrapped his arms around her, sliding her gently down to lie beside him in the bed. "Oh, my, indeed." His own heart was pounding and words were taking far more effort than they should. Closing his eyes, he let his fingers drift down Christine's back through her hair, comparing the silken textures between her skin and the long cascade of hair down her back. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he could feel so happy, so complete.

"Christine." She said nothing, just burrowed deeper against his side. He felt goosebumps rising on her skin and realized they'd kicked the covers down near the foot of the bed. "Christine?"

Her eyes didn't open and he knew she was asleep.

It took a little effort, but he raised up on one elbow, reached down across their bodies, and pulled the warm duvet up and over them, tucking the corner around Christine's shoulder. She had to be exhausted, between singing the performance earlier and their performances within the last few hours.

A quick glance to the windows told him it was still dark. He should just close his eyes and settle down beside her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Slipping from the bed, he padded to the kitchen area, opening cupboards and sighing. Damn. He wanted coffee but he hadn't had a chance to refill his bean supply from the kitchen downstairs in the club.

He'd just have to go downstairs and make his coffee there. It was probably the best idea anyway as he wouldn't have to worry about waking her while he ground the beans. He thought about just throwing on one of his hooded robes and going down, but old habits forced him to get masked and dressed before leaving the loft.

Stepping down on the third floor landing, he spotted a light under the Persian's door, pausing before raising his hand to knock. Then he grinned, knocking before entering was a long fought battle between the two men. Erik insisted on it with his own door but completely ignored Nasir's requests to be equally warned. It wasn't until after Nasir turned the tables only to be caught by an embarrassed and dripping wet Erik holding a knife to his throat, did Erik see the point to knocking and finally admitting that it's only courtesy to let his friend know when his privacy was about to be breached.

Soft music was coming from under the door along with the light, so either Nasir was as awake as he, or the man had fallen asleep in his armchair again and needed to be guided to his bed so he wouldn't awaken with a stiff sore neck. Either way, he'd welcome Erik's entrance.

"Nasir." Erik knocked briskly on the door. Something crashed inside the apartment and Erik didn't hesitate before pushing the door open. "Nasir!" He froze in horror at the scene before him.

The Persian and Mrs. Purdue also froze, obviously not sleeping and shocked at the interruption.

"I—I—I…" Erik couldn't speak for a moment. What does one say when one catches one's friend in flagrante with a woman at four o'clock in the morning?

To her credit, Marian rose smoothly from her place on the overstuffed cushions. Pushing Nasir's arms back from around her and smoothing her tousled hair. Gathering a large Persian shawl and her dignity around her, she looked Erik straight in the eyes. "Good morning, Mr. Dantes. Is there a problem?" She stepped nimbly around the broken pieces of a vase which had fallen from the table alongside the sofa.

Erik felt the heat of a flush creeping up his neck to his ears. He looked from Nasir to the lady and back, speechless. Then Marian smiled and Nasir started to laugh.

"Do come in, Mr. Dantes," Marian said stepping back and gesturing to an armchair. "May I offer you some refreshment?"

Nasir couldn't contain himself any longer. Laughing so hard he nearly choked, he pulled Erik into the apartment and pushed him into the chair.

Erik looked up at them both. "I am so sorry. I didn't think—didn't know you were entertaining, Nasir." He looked at Marian and felt himself reddening again. "Mrs. Purdue, I humbly beg your pardon for the intrusion."

She smiled graciously and repositioned herself on the sofa next to the Persian. "It's quite all right Mr. Dantes." Then she caught Nasir's eye and nodded. "Go ahead," she whispered.

"Ah, yes, Erik." Nasir seemed a bit shaken, but quickly pulled himself together. Then he took the lady's hand and smiled. It was a smile that Erik hadn't seen for many years. Not since Persia. "Mrs. Purdue…Marian has agreed to be my…." He looked at her. They hadn't yet decided exactly what her new role would be called.

"Companion." Marian said, smiling just as broadly. "We have decided to make a life together."

"Companion?" Erik questioned. That was unusual and, to many, scandalous. His eyes scanned the room and he noted the open bottle of wine and the single wine glass beside it. Then it all made sense. Nasir followed Allah while Marian was a Christian. Once again, he found himself growing angry by all the rules society imposed. "Forgive me, madam, but what of your children? How will this decision affect them?"

"I am concerned, Mr. Dantes, of course. However my children are all nearly grown and will be leaving the nest to build lives of their own." She looked at Nasir and took his hand in hers. "As you know, my husband died three years ago and Nasir's wife passed away many years before that. We're both lonely and we've grown quite fond of each other."

Erik nodded; he understood their feelings. After spending his life alone, he finally had the chance to spend the rest of it with the woman he loved. He understood completely. "Forgive me, but marriage is truly out of the question?"

"Ah, Erik," Nasir sighed. "Going straight to the heart of the matter." He looked at Marian. "Do forgive him, my love, he's never learned about tact."

Erik could read the distress on Marian's face and saw it mirrored on his friend's. He knew what the problem was. No minister or imam would ever agree to marry them. He pounded his fist on the chair arm. "It's not right." He looked from his dark skinned friend to the fair blue-eyed woman. 'It's not right at all."

"I understand your anger, my friend." Nasir looked at Erik, knowing the man's frustration. All his life, Erik struggled against a society that scorned and rejected him. Even now, after everything he'd done to help the community, the lives he saved on the day of the earthquake, there was still a broad segment of people who rejected him because of the mask and even more who would vilify him if they knew what lay under it.

A soft tapping at the door caught their attention. Erik and Nasir exchanged hasty glances and Erik stood as Nasir opened the door. He laughed, stepping back and motioning into the room. "Please, dear lady, join us."

Christine entered, wrapped in one of Erik's long hooded robes and wearing a pair of the woolen socks Alma Imperiali knit for him. He sighed in relief as a sidelong glance revealed that she'd slipped it on over her undergarments. "Are we having a party?" she asked. With her hair tumbling down and her face flushed from sleep, she looked no older than when she and Erik first met years earlier.

He just stared at her, still not quite able to believe this beauty was his. "Christine, I don't recall whether or not you've met Mrs. Purdue."

"It's a privilege to meet you, Miss Daaé," Marian smiled, rising and holding out her hand. "You were wonderful in the performance tonight."

Christine smiled back, stepping farther into the room and taking the woman's hand in hers. "Thank you, and please call me Christine. Formality seems so stilted seeing as it's ridiculously early in the morning and we're all in various states of dishabille."

"And you must call me Marian."

Nasir glanced at Erik and moved to the door. "Erik, since we're all awake, why don't you and I go down to the kitchen and see what we can pull together for an early breakfast while the ladies get to know each other."

Erik knew an exit cue when he heard one and slipped silently into the hallway, leading the way down the stairs.

In the kitchen, the two men made quick work of pulling together trays with plates of fruit, cold sliced chicken, bread rolls, and coffee service for four.

Erik looked up from grinding and measuring coffee beans to lock eyes with his friend. "I'm very happy for you," he said quietly. "I know how lonely you've been all these years."

Nasir sighed, nodding slowly. "As lonely as you have been my friend. It's truly a miracle that you and Christine have come together."

"It is," Erik agreed. "I still don't understand why she wants me. Especially after everything I've done."

"Ah who can understand the human heart, especially that of a woman?" The Persian leaned back against the countertop. "I never thought I'd find anyone to fill my heart again."

"I know." Erik shook his head, lighting the stove and putting the coffee on to boil. His heart began beating faster. It was just past five in the morning. Without thinking he opened a window above the stove and listened. The sky was still dark, and the night was quiet.

"Erik? Where were you just now?" Nasir looked concerned. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, smiling slightly. "Lillian and I were here, just finishing breakfast when I noticed the sun was coming up but the birds didn't sing. Then it hit."

"The earthquake?"

"Yes." Erik rubbed his hand over the exposed part of his face. "Three years ago, and I remember it as if it was yesterday." He looked up, locking eyes with Nasir. "Every time I come in here in the early morning, I hold my breath. Sometimes, I think I can still feel the ground shaking."

"That must have been a terrifying experience." Nasir's voice was soft. "I can't imagine what it was like."

"I hope you never find out, my friend." Erik looked down the long corridor of his past. "I don't think I was ever so afraid, not even when the Shah sent his assassins after me or the mob descended into my home in the opera house."

He looked at Nasir, seeing sympathy in the man's jade green eyes. "I can fight men, but how do you fight the fury of nature?"

"You must have faith, Erik. It's the only way."

"Faith." Erik snorted rudely. "Maybe that works for you, old friend, but it's never worked for me. I'm no believer."

"So how do you explain all the good things that have happened since we came here? You're a successful businessman; you have friends, Christine."

"None of that makes up for everything that came before. The cages, the constant threats, being forced to live apart—alone." He sighed, pulling in a calming breath as he felt his anger rising. "I know you mean well, Nasir. And I appreciate how you've always been there for me since we met, even when I did my damndest to push you away, but that doesn't balance the scales."

"I know." Nasir's voice was soft. "But perhaps now the scales are slowly beginning to right themselves."

"We'll see." Erik turned his attention back to the stove. "The coffee's ready."

. . . .

Upstairs in Nasir's apartment, Christine yawned mightily. "I hope they hurry up with that coffee."

Marian grinned. "It will be worth the wait, I can assure you, especially if Mr. Dantes is making it. I've never had coffee as good as his."

"It's because he's French, I think. They just have a natural talent when it comes to food."

"You're not French, Christine? I thought you were."

"No. I was born in Sweden. Papa and I moved to France when I was a little girl after my mother died."

"If I may be so bold as to ask. How did you meet Mr. Dantes? He's always been such a solitary gentleman."

An odd smile crossed Christine's face. "We met at the Palais Garnier in Paris." She sighed, pulling in a deep breath. "It's a very long and very dull story. Tell me about you and Mr. Khan."

Marian shrugged lightly, pulling the shawl tighter around her shoulders. "We met through mutual acquaintances. We'd both been invited to a dinner party and found we'd had experiences in common." She smiled and her eyes lit up. "I've never met anyone like him. He's so worldly and down-to-earth at the same time. He made me feel truly happy again, and I believe I've done the same for him."

"So you decided to move in together." Christine smiled, nodding her approval. "And marriage is out of the question?"

"It is as long as we want a religious ceremony. No one will perform the ceremony unless one of us changes religion. I can't give up my faith, even for Nasir. He won't become a Christian and I would never ask him to."

"It's not right." Christine curled her feet under her on the chair. "Two people who love each other shouldn't be denied the right to build their lives together. You're very brave to move in here, Marian."

"I'm a widow with nearly grown children and they adore Nasir. People may frown, and some may decide to have nothing more to do with me but I don't think I'll be entirely cut off. On the other hand, you are a single woman. The rules for you are different. What of you and Mr. Dantes?"

"I'm an opera singer, so many people think I'm already a loose woman." Christine attempted a nonchalant smile, but she could see that Marian saw through her flippancy. The façade fell and she allowed her feelings to show. "It's complicated. As you can imagine, we have a past. And it hasn't always been a happy one. There was a time when I ran away from Erik." She shook herself, wiping away a stray tear. "It took us years to find each other again."

"And now that you have?"

"It's up to him." Christine pulled Erik's robe tighter around herself. "I'm not leaving him again. But I hurt him, Marian. I hurt him badly and I think he's still afraid that I'll do it again."

"I've always gotten the impression that he doesn't trust easily."

"No. He's never had a reason to. Not even with me."

Marian looked up as the door opened and the two men came in. Impulsively, she leaned across to Christine and squeezed her hand gently while whispering. "Don't give up."

"What are you two conspiring about?" Erik asked, setting the coffee service down on a nearby table and pouring out cups.

"They're talking about us, obviously." Nasir said while placing the tray of food and small plates on the low table in front of the women.

Christine stretched in her chair, catching Marian's eye with a smile. "Oh the arrogance of men. Thinking they are the only topic worth discussing." She looked at the offering before her and frowned in mock dismay. "What? No éclairs?"

"If you want a decent éclair, you'll have to go back to France," Erik said, settling into the other armchair in the grouping after passing around the coffee. "I've yet to find a bake shop here that can make them as well."

"So I have to decide between you and a good éclair? Hmm, I'll have to give that some thought." They could see she was teasing by the grin she was trying to suppress.

Erik frowned, sipping his coffee. The talk of France made him uneasy. Even among trusted friends, he didn't like speaking or thinking of that time. The memories were still too painful.

As if reading his mind, Christine yawned widely, shifting in her chair. "Erik, my dear. I'm exhausted. Do you think we might take some of this food upstairs and retire for a few more hours?"

"Of course." He set his cup down, placed half the food on a tray, and offered his other hand to Christine. "Leave the tray and things outside your door, Nasir and I'll come collect them and take them down later today." He nodded to Marian and then followed Christine out and back up the stairs to the loft.