A/N: Okay girls, the gloves are off. I had someone (Cough – xxphanotmphanessxx – cough, cough) accuse me of writing a filler chapter just to torture you all, so now I will show you what REAL torture is like. Feast yourselves on the charged atmosphere of this one.

And as I told Jema Moda on MSN this morning, every time you see the name Christine, feel free to think of it as a prompt to "Insert your name here". I know I do when I am writing it. There is no shame in admitting it.

darklady5289: Naw, they aren't that smart.

Kagome1514: You will really be hyper after this one. You may want to strap yourself down.

Hearts Aflame: Thanks, but you are really gonna like this one, I guarantee it.

eternalcelestial: "Poo heads" – I had to laugh at that one. And Raoul will have no chance to intervene before the deed is done, I assure you. E and C aren't going to wait that long, and neither am I.

Twinkle 22: E and C will spend their first day in "Anticipation" as the chapter title accurately portrays. Does that help at all?

Orphelia-Rose: Another FOP FREE chapter. Yay! And yes, La Scala is a big deal for Christine, but can you see any possible complications ahead for our lovers?

erikfan: Yes, I am mercilessly. You will really hate me after this one. I may go into hiding for a time. Let's see, where is that number for the Witness Protection Program? I wonder if they have any experience protecting repentant author's from lusting phangirls. Hmmm...

xxphantomphanessxx: I would like you to know, missy, that I carefully constructed this chapter as tormenting punishment for you for your "filling in" accusation. Hey, that chapter had a couple important plot developments in it! So what if I was torturing you a bit by making you wait for the real fluff. That is my job. So now, I will have my revenge. You will be at my absolute mercy by the end of this one. Bwoohoohahaha!

(Ok, I am not really mad, you just inspired me to try harder with this one. So thanks!)

Pertie: You are welcome once again. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Here is the next installment you requested. Hope it meets your approval.

Captain Oblivious: Could one "glomp" Raoul? Maybe with a heavy object? Yes, there will be complications for our lovers as a result of Christine's new opportunity, that is indeed certain.

lafemme540: I will happily read and review your story as soon as I finish writing this one. My life is getting really busy, so I just can't manage another fic at this moment, but as soon as I wrap this one up, I am there, I promise. (Same for you, Kagome1514.)

xo-little-lotte-xo: I did. You have him. The clone I mean. Ha Ha Ha!

Jema Moda: You are darn right I am going to "hog the hottie". Do you blame me, seriously? All is fair in love and lust, my dear. So be careful, any time your back is turned, I am going to use my Svhengali trance (How on earth do you spell that? I loaned my Leroux book to my sister.) skills to lure him away. Remember, every time you turn your back there I will be, singing in my mesmerizing voice, "Close your eyes and surrender to your DARKEST DREAMS..." Oh, and Christine will definitely get to have lots of "enjoyment" with Erik before frilly fop man shows up.

Ayame Ito: You did not because I kept him chained to my arm at all times. SO THERE! Your Erik must be the clone. Welcome aboard, but keep your hands off my Erik. THE REAL ONE!

MadameOG: You won't have to dance much longer. There is tons of fluff in this chappie.

Ch. 18 – Anticipation

At first when Christine's carriage arrived at Porto Dell' Angelo, she thought the driver must have gotten the wrong address. The home she stared at from the carriage window could only be described as charming. It looked like the kind of home a young family might inhabit, a place that would be filled with life and laughter - certainly nothing like Erik's former residence. Just as she was about to ask the driver if it were possible he had made a mistake, her heart gave a bounding leap as she caught sight of Erik's familiar form on the other side of the lawn across the grass. Smiling madly, she touched a self conscious hand to her hair and stepped out of the carriage, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt as it drove away.

He was kneeling on the grass, his back facing her and did not immediately appear to have noticed her arrival. All at once he straightened and she could see just past him a lovely little girl in a white cotton dress who had been completely obscured previously by his tall, broad shouldered frame.

The child was beautiful, with great dark eyes and thick brown hair which fell in waves down her back. The little girl saw Christine at once and turned to whisper something to Erik. He glanced behind him and flashed Christine a warm smile, sending her heart pounding wildly.

Erik then leaned down to whisper something to the girl in return.

Hesitantly, the child stepped forth across the grass until she stood before Christine, smiling shyly. She handed Christine a small bouquet of flowers, and opened her mouth as if to speak. Looking back over her shoulder at Erik, he nodded in reassurance, and the girl took a deep breath.

"Bonjour mademoiselle. Ceux-ci sont pour vous. Erik me dis pour vous indiquer qu'il vous aime."

(OR "Hello, miss. These are for you. Erik says to tell you that he loves you.")

Christine's eyes filled with happy tears and she lifted them to meet Erik's from across the lawn. It was the first time he had told her that he loved her since that horrible night of the opera fire. She was overcome with emotion and he could read her words as she mouthed back, "I love you too."

The child, who had not noticed the exchange, looked alarmed at Christine's tears and began speaking hurriedly in a wave of Italian. Christine was forced to tear her eyes away from Erik's loving face in order to attempt to comfort the child, though she couldn't understand a word she was saying.

Erik swiftly moved across the lawn to intervene. When he reached the girl's side, he knelt down, putting a gentle hand on her arm and explained something quite easily in Italian. Was there no end to this man's seemingly limitless talents? Christine thought, smiling to herself. At Erik's words, the girl nodded happily and flashed a pretty smile before bobbing a quick curtsy to Christine. She tore off across the grass and down the dusty road leading away from the villa. "Ciao, Erik! See you tomorrow!" she called cheerfully over her shoulder as she disappeared around the corner behind the trees.

Erik's eyes followed the child for a moment, and then he turned to Christine with an explanation. "Her name is Rosa and she lives in the vineyard down the road. I have been teaching her French and English, but she still relies heavily on her native Italian. I am never quite certain now when she opens her mouth which will come out," he said with a rueful smile.

Christine laughed. His eyes traveled over her face hungrily. Though it had been only a matter of hours since he had last seen her, he had missed her sorely. She looked wonderful. The sunny yellow of her dress complimented her skin and although he usually adored her hair down and full, the loose pile of curls at the back of her head was an elegant change, showing off the delicious curve of her neck to its best advantage. He longed to taste every inch of its swanlike grace, every inch of her flesh for that matter, but he held himself in check. This is likely to be a difficult day, he thought to himself with an inward sigh.

His composure held tightly in an iron grip, Erik put his hands on Christine's arms and leaned in, settling for a chaste kiss to her cheek. Even that benign touch sent fire throughout his body, as he felt the softness of her skin beneath his lips and took in the fresh scent of her hair – a delectable combination of lavender and soap, as always.

Shaking himself mentally, he dropped his hands to his sides and took a step backwards, keeping a safe distance between Christine and himself. If he were going to maintain the demeanor of a gentleman as he imagined she would expect, he had best refrain from touching her unless absolutely necessary. Otherwise, he wasn't going to last the day without ravishing her mercilessly, though he had gotten the distinct impression from her own reaction to him that she wouldn't object. More than anything, however, he wanted their first time to be so much more than that; thus, he clung stubbornly to his resolve, no matter how much his body might ache in protest.

Christine was puzzled by Erik's almost brotherly kiss hello and the quick withdrawal of his arms, but attributed it to his gentlemanly nature and settled for taking his large hand in her own as he led her on a tour of the grounds. She marveled at the endless beds of well tended flowers and the view from his portico took her breath away. When she stepped into the villa, however, tears filled her eyes once again.

Erik was immediately concerned and puzzled by her reaction. He had thought that Porto Dell' Angelo would be exactly the kind of place Christine would adore. He had attempted to create a home that was warm, inviting, and full of light, just as she was herself. Up until this moment, he had thought he had succeeded. But her continued silence caused him to reexamine his efforts.

Gazing around the room, he wondered what could possibly have upset her so. Sunlight flooded through the many windows, laying squares of oranges and golds in a patchwork pattern across the warm wood floors. Above them, the high ceilings lent openness to the room, adorned with their visible cypress rafters. Bright hues met his eyes from every corner, a collection of elegant furniture and luxurious foreign fabrics from his travels. His exquisite deep red Persian rug, spread diagonally between the two divans in front of the fireplace was the only reminder of his Paris home. Vases of colorful and fragrant fresh flowers crowded the mantle and every table around the room.

He had tried so hard to make her feel welcome here, but now Erik was berating himself inwardly for assuming her taste would match his own. Perhaps he simply didn't understand how normal people lived. Sighing, he placed his hands alongside her cheeks, and with his thumbs, erased the tears that were tracing a path down her face. "What is it, my love? Does it not please you?" he asked gently.

Christine's face looked startled suddenly. "Oh no, Erik. It...It's wonderful...It is just that...," her eyes filled with love and compassion, sought his own, "I always wished for a place like this for you," she whispered. "You have known no real home throughout the first years of your life. It is right that you should have one as warm and welcoming as this for the remainder of it."

She smiled shyly up at him, intently aware of the warmth of his hands on the skin of her face and his long, lean muscular body inches from her own.

What is wrong with me? she thought blushing hotly beneath his eyes. Here they were having a tender moment and all she could think about was how much she wished for the hands now caressing her face to give the same attention to the rest of her body as well.

At the thought, her eyes opened wide and she abruptly withdrew from his burning fingers, knowing if she stayed beneath them for another minute, she would surely do something highly inappropriate. Backing away, she resolutely kept herself a safe distance apart from him and clasped her own hands tightly behind her back, as if to prevent them from misbehaving against her will. God in heaven, she thought, I have never had such lustful thoughts before. What is this raging fire within me? And how does this dark, enigmatic man somehow manage to ignite such passion in my mind and soul by his mere presence?

Christine hastily changed the subject. "The name, Porto Dell' Angelo – what does it mean?"

Erik watched her with a bemused expression upon his face. "Angel's Haven," he replied absently.

He had the distinct impression by her blush and overly pious posture now that she was fighting the same desirous longings under his touch that he himself had been fighting for nearly 20 years whenever he was in her presence.

Amused, he elected to test his theory.

"Oh Erik, that's perfect!" Christine gushed, referring once again to the villa's name and turning to look around her in delight. He stepped intentionally behind her, so that when she unknowingly turned back around to face him, the entire length of her body was forced to come into direct contact with his own.

Christine's face immediately began to color, and she seemed to be having an internal argument with herself as to whether she should choose to simply enjoy the feeling of him pressed against her or remove herself demurely as propriety would no doubt dictate. Her inner battle lasted nearly a full minute before he felt her body pressing back.

With a wicked grin, Erik withdrew the contact. On second thought, this afternoon is going to be a most enjoyable prelude to the evening's events, he thought, his grin widening by the second.

"Pardon me, mademoiselle," he said with a bow that seemed, at least in appearance apologetic. "I beg your forgiveness for being so clumsy. Please, let us continue on with the tour of my home."

Christine stood dumbly for a moment after he turned to leave, uncertain exactly what had just happened. Her blood was heated nearly to boiling and she looked down, half expecting to find a scorched imprint of his body on her own. Her movements felt delayed and clumsy – her limbs heavy with a sweet tingling sensation as she followed him mutely through the rest of the house.

Erik was enjoying immensely her reaction to both his home and his tireless efforts at a day of seduction. At every opportunity, he touched her lightly - a fleeting caress, a casual brush against her at every convenient moment; he could nearly feel the fire building inside her body as well as his own. He relished this chance to luxuriate in the experience of being wanted both body and soul. Though he had had some limited measure of experience in physical intimacy, the idea of Christine, the one woman he longed for, desiring him was delicious.

Finally they came to his bedroom. He had intentionally saved it for last. "Go in and feel free to look around, the view from the window is glorious. I will rejoin you momentarily." He excused himself and left her alone to her exploration. There was something deeply satisfying in knowing that every moment in that room she would be imagining herself there tangled with him in his bed.

When Christine first entered Erik's bedroom, her eyes locked immediately on the lush four-poster mahogany bed, draped in an exotic looking burgundy silk duvet. How would it feel to lay beside him, she wondered, with nothing in between, their limbs twisted in mutual adoration and pleasure? There was something so powerful about Erik -something so raw and unbridled beneath his gentlemanly exterior. He was danger and sensuality, passion and sensitivity – all of those enticing elements embodied. And the outward frame that they inhabited was utterly impressive in and of itself.

Peeking quickly behind her to be certain he hadn't yet returned, she stepped hesitantly over to run a wistful hand along the burgundy silk of the duvet. As she stood lost in the moment, she imagined that same hand trailing over the ridges of Erik's well muscled chest and flat abdomen, and even beyond.

Christine drew in a deep shuddering breath and the utterly masculine and inviting scent of him filled every fiber of her being until she felt drunk with it. Erik's distinctive aura clung to every item in the room. She longed to merge with him at last, as if by doing so she could be absorbed into his very soul and enter his unique and colorful world that called to her so enticingly.

Her senses were so full of him she felt dizzy and he wasn't even in the room. Christine sighed. She was caught in a beautiful, agonizing dilemma. What would he think of her if she gave herself to him so easily? Would he be disappointed in her? The thought troubled her mind, for he had always seen her as an innocent, and she hated to rob him of that illusion. But it was certain that Erik's magnetism would not be denied for much longer: her body could simply not resist for long the alluring call of his. Any resolve she had tenuously clung to was long gone, and she had no doubt that if he were to ask it of her, she would fling propriety to the winds and hurl herself headlong into his arms quite willingly. Christine sank weakly down on the edge of the bed, one rebellious hand still stroking the bed cover without her notice.

"Does it meet with your approval, milady?" a slightly mocking voice called silkily from the doorway.

Instantly, Christine yanked her hand back as if she had been burned. Erik was leaning against the frame of the door, grinning roguishly, a bottle of wine and two glasses in one hand.

How long has he been standing there, Christine wondered desperately. She jumped up as if something had bitten her, absolutely mortified that he might have seen her longingly caressing his bed. She opened her mouth to respond to his inquiry, then closed it again, unsure of what she could say that would not betray her lustful thoughts.

"The view, Christine," he prompted, one eyebrow raised in amusement at her temporarily diminished capacity for speech, "Did the view meet with your approval?"

Blushing furiously, she quickly stepped over to admire it through the window, though in truth she hadn't given it a moment's thought since he had mentioned it upon leaving.

"Yes, it is quite magnificent, isn't it?" She kept her back carefully turned from him as she feigned interest in the scenery outside. In reality, however, all her thoughts and every nerve ending were centered on the enticing figure behind her.

"Indeed it is," he said softly, and she had the distinct impression by his suggestive tone that he was not at the moment talking about the view.

When she at last found the courage to turn around, the sight that met her eyes nearly caused her to fall backward through the open window. Erik was stretched out lazily on the bed, holding the wine glasses and the bottle in one hand and patting the bed beside him with the other. "Join me," he said softly.

A/N: Any takers? Hee Hee Hee (Cackles evilly.)