Disclaimer: I only wish I could claim to be the one who created The Phantom of the Opera. Hèlas, I cannot. The plot, however thin or implausible, does belong to me.
A/N: Warning for language. Erik has looked up to see Collette lounging in the doorway and has asked her what she is doing there. Please let me know what you think of her—I have to admit, I have tried to make her as nasty as possible! (But I hope not too clichéd.)
NO ONE BUT HER—Chapter Eleven—Always On Your Guard
"Is that any way to greet your long-lost cousin?" she replied, her voice grating on his nerves like gravel over paving stones. She flounced toward him, the odor of her perfume reaching him well before she did. Perching on the edge of the desk, she smiled and leaned over, allowing the low-cut bodice of her gown to gap slightly.
"I repeat—what the hell do you want, Collette?" He moved around in front of the desk, trying not to breathe too deeply.
She slipped off the desk and approached him. "Why, I want to get to know you better, of course—welcome you to the family, so to speak." Oblivious to his grimace of distaste, she reached out and touched his forearm, sliding her hand upward and slowly across his chest.
Just before she reached the open collar of his shirt, just before her hand came into contact with his bare skin, Erik grabbed her wrist in a punishing grip. "Don't," he warned her coldly as she tried to wrench free. "Whatever the true reason was that brought you here, and I am certain that I know what it was, I am not interested in anything you might have to offer me."
He flung her hand away then reached up in time to block the other as she swung at him. Twisting her wrist until she cried out, he stared down at her. "Don't make a bigger mistake than you already have," he told her menacingly. "Get out of here and don't come back." He released her and stepped back, wishing for a cloth on which to wipe his hands.
Seething, she spat, "You're a pitiful excuse for a man! You would have nothing if it weren't for my father! Look at you! No one will have you with that face!"
"No one but you, don't you mean?" he asked silkily, adding, "You've been doing some mathematics, haven't you, cousin? You've managed to add up what has been deposited in the trust fund, which is now back in my control, and what your father will still be earning from that fund, and it's a tidy little amount, isn't it? And you've decided that you're going to get every last franc, what rightfully should have been coming to your father all these years, no matter what you have to do to get it."
Stunned, Collette opened her mouth but no sound came out, making Erik laugh nastily. Suddenly he loomed over her, making her squeak in fright. "Not in this lifetime, nor the next, nor the day hell freezes over," he said in a low, furious voice. "Get out!"
Her eyes wide with fear, she sidled around him and went to the door. Following her, he watched as she scurried down the corridor and around the corner.
The solicitor's warning about her echoed in his head and Erik frowned as he resumed his seat behind Raoul's desk. But the paper that had caught his attention just before Collette had so rudely interrupted him made him forget all about her.
On it Raoul had listed at least fifteen separate occasions when he had given Robert a certain amount of money, only to discover that approximately 100 francs less than each amount had been deposited in the bank or invested as instructed. Documents from the bank verified the amounts of the deposits, and letters from the businessmen showed the amounts invested. Why did he wait—why didn't he do something about this sooner?
Over a period of three years Robert had stolen nearly 15 thousand francs, and according to what Christine had overheard, he'd had Raoul murdered and had tried to kidnap her. "I'd say this is more than enough to take to the police," he murmured.
"I'm glad you finally agree with me," said Christine from the doorway. Her nose wrinkling in distaste, she sniffed the air as she came into the room. "Has someone been here since I left?"
Shuddering, he replied, "My 'cousin' Collette was here, trying to entice me into marrying her, unless I miss my guess, so she could get her hands on my money, or something like that." He rose and came around the desk, sliding one arm about Christine's trim waist and stealing a quick kiss from her.
"Your cousin? Is that what the visit to the solicitor was about?" Hearing the excitement in her voice, he hated to explain how things truly were. In a few short sentences he told her about Henri and Collette, and his decision to allow Henri to retain the one percent of the profits.
"Oh, I see." After a moment she asked, "So—you've found the proof that Raoul said he was collecting?"
He nodded, and gestured to the paper-strewn desk. "I'll make copies of everything—we'll take the copies to the police." Releasing her, he went back to the desk and sat, pulling blank paper out to begin copying the documents.
"And we'll also talk to them about setting a trap for him, using me as bait."
It wasn't a question and his stomach clenched as the thought. His head shot up and he glared at her. "No. Absolutely not. I will not allow you to put yourself in that kind of danger."
"Erik, it's the only way—"
"Dammit, Christine!" His angry voice spilled out of the open door and stopped Collette in her tracks. Holding her skirts against her, she inched up to the doorway, her back pressed against the wall in order to remain unseen from inside.
Christine's sigh was audible. "Erik, we've been over and over this. It's the only way to guarantee that Robert will agree to meet with you. We'll set up a meeting with him in a café and the police will have men inside, pretending to eat or drink. And you'll be there to protect me, too."
Collette's interest spiked sharply at the mention of Robert and the police. Breathing shallowly, she cocked her head and concentrated on the conversation inside the room.
Sounds of fabric rustling caused her to frown then Christine's voice came softly, as if muffled against something. "I know you're worried about my safety," she said, "just as I'm worried about yours." Collette nearly gagged, and as she struggled to control herself, she nearly missed Christine's next statement.
"Tomorrow, we'll take the evidence we've found to the police and talk with them, explain what we want to do." A slight pause, with more rustling noises, then Christine said, "Come and eat. Madame Germont has made your favorite—roasted chicken."
A soft, reluctant murmur from Erik, and sounds of a drawer being opened and closed. Footsteps approached the open door, and Collette hiked up her skirts and ran down the corridor, ducking in another open door just as their voices grew louder. Heart pounding, she darted behind the door and held her breath until Erik and Christine had gone past her. Well, well, well, she thought, it appears that I will have to make another trip out here, before the beast and the bitch go to the police!
"Christine!" Erik's voice carried easily down the hallway and Collette flinched, nearly dropping the hairpin she was trying to use to pick one of the locks on Raoul's desk.
"Concentrate on what you're doing—don't pay any attention to him," she murmured, wiping her palm on her skirt and trying the lock again.
"I thought she said she was coming to get those files," muttered Erik from just outside the door, and Collette cursed under her breath.
"Why won't this damned thing open?" Realizing her time was about to run out, she stood and straightened her skirts, managing to perch on the corner of the desk just seconds before Erik came into the room.
He stopped short when he saw her. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" His voice snapped out like a whip and she pasted a smile on her face as she slid off the desk and walked toward him, her hands clasped together at her waist.
"I—I know you said yesterday that you never wanted to see me again, but I keep thinking that surely there is something that I can do to change your opinion of me." Trying to sound demure and ladylike, she kept her eyes downcast and looked up at him through her lashes.
He laughed shortly. "My opinion of you can only go down, 'cousin', although I must admit I am a bit curious to see just how much farther into the sewer it might go." Noticing the way she held one hand, he grasped it and pulled it up into plain sight. "What are you trying to hide, Collette?" He forced her fingers apart and saw the hairpin lying in her palm. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he plucked the pin out of her hand. "And just what were you planning to do with this?"
She clamped her lips together and refused to answer, giving him a furious look in reply.
He dragged her to the desk and kept a firm grip on her hands as he carefully inspected the drawers and their locks. The one where Raoul had kept the evidence he'd collected against Robert had clearly been tampered with, having several large, deep scratches in the wood that had not been there the previous day.
"You overheard Christine and me talking yesterday, didn't you? I knew I should have followed you until you were completely out of the house." Grasping her shoulders, he shook her, making a coil of her hair fall between her eyes. "And so you thought you would come back and steal the evidence and take it to Robert, so he would know what we were planning. Of course, he would be so grateful to know our plans that he would offer you a sizeable 'reward'."
Collette struggled against his hold, but to no avail. "No! I—I wouldn't do something like that to you, Erik. We're family, and family has to stick—"
"Damn you, you lying little bitch!" His voice deadly cold, it sliced through her coy protestations of innocence like a sword through flesh. "I have never harmed a woman, but I vow to you, madame, by all I hold dear—if you do not remove yourself immediately from my sight—and my life—you will be the first!"
His eyes mere slits of icy blue, he thrust her away from him, wiping his hands on his trousers, as though they had become soiled by simply touching her. "And if I have not made myself absolutely clear, madame—should you ever attempt to contact either the Vicomtesse or myself again, you will regret it. That is a solemn promise, no idle threat; of that you may be assured."
"Fils du putain!"
Erikmerely raised an eyebrow at her as she flounced from the room, slamming the door behind her.
A tiny gasp came from behind him and he spun around. Erik felt his knees go weak when he realized Christine had been trapped behind the door when Collette had stolen into the room. Her face pale, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She made her way to the loveseat and sank down on it.
"Christine, I—"
She held up a hand to silence him. "I heard everything—you don't need to explain. It's just that . . . it's been a little while since I've seen the . . . ruthless side of you."
"Oh, God!" he muttered, "I've ruined it, haven't I?" He stalked to the fireplace and stared down at the flames. His hands gripping the mantle, he closed his eyes in despair. After a moment, he gathered his courage and turned to her.
"You're wondering, aren't you? Which man am I—the crazy, obsessed man you knew five years ago, the man who killed two men with his bare hands? Or the man you've come to know in the last six months—the man who is teaching your son to ride a horse, the man who is composing music again?"
His eyes suddenly moist, he walked to the loveseat and went down on one knee in front of her. Slowly he reached out and picked up her hand. Kissing her knuckles gently, he sighed when he felt her trembling. "Christine?"
She stared at him intently for so long that he fought the urge to fidget. Then she touched his scarred cheek with her fingertips. "I know who you are, Erik. You are the man I've come to know these last months." She paused and he turned his head to kiss her palm. "All of us can be . . . ruthless under the right circumstances. I know without a doubt that I would kill anyone who tried to harm Stephen or Annaliese. Or you," she added in a whisper.
Gently she cupped the back of his head and pulled him to her. She brought her mouth to his, kissed him tenderly, until, with a growl, he took control. Rising to his feet, he drew her up with him, never breaking the kiss.
Her arms wound around his neck and he growled again as his hands slid around her and he clutched her to him convulsively. Oh, Angel, I love you!