DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two

Cecilia awoke the following day in Christine's room. Immediately recognizing her surroundings, she wondered why he had brought her back here when he so obviously did not want her there. Still ravaged with weakness and exhaustion, she laid back down upon the still soft and warm silk pillows.

She adjusted her weight in order to lie on her side. Whilst opening her eyes, she noticed her two thousand francs on the bedside table. She could tell by the simple gesture that under different circumstances, she would have liked Erik. He was equally as prideful as she was. Well, he obviously does not want to ransom me.

While she let out a deep relieved sigh, the bedroom door opened. She shifted her body in the general direction of the door and stared at the rather handsome man standing in her doorway.

"May I come in?" he asked as he creaked the door open further.

"Yes, you may Monsieur." She could tell he was thinking of what to say as he casually walked to the bed.

As he began to walk toward the vanity, she stated, "You can sit on the bed. No need for a man to sit in such a dainty little chaise." He stared at her as though she had read his mind.

Lowering himself onto the bed, she took the opportunity to study him once more. Not usually being a woman of lustful yearning, she found herself blushing while gazing at his rather defined body. She wanted nothing more than to rip his white shirt off and kiss his exposed flesh.

She suddenly turned her face away from him as he looked down at her.

With a smile appearing across his face, he asked, "Are you feeling ok?"

While attempting to sit herself in an upright position, she responded with a nod. He began to study her face thinking how pretty she was.

"I can see that the bruising and swelling are almost gone. You may actually be a pretty woman someday," he joked.

As she hit him with a pillow, almost knocking his mask off, she sank back into the covers and pulled the sheets over her face allowing only her eyes to glimpse over the blankets. He chuckled while he seized the rather pitiful weapon from her grip.

"You're mean, Erik."

"I know. That is what makes me so likable."

"Why did you bring me back here? I thought you wanted me to go."

"You need to understand something, Cecilia," he began in a calm and sympathetic voice, "I found you half dead next to the chandelier. I brought you here without thinking of the consequences. I am not a man who is accustomed to having other people in my presence here, and you ask way too many questions for your own damn good. I have no clue how to react."

"So, then why didn't you just leave me? Someone might have found me sooner or later."

"I honestly do not know. For some reason, I felt that you needed me."

If you only knew how I really need you. She wanted to slap herself for having such impure thoughts. It was uncharacteristic of her.

"Are you hungry?"

As her lips went to say "no," her stomach let out a loud growl. She realized she had not eaten in days.

Looking down at her stomach, Erik smiled. Cecilia had no idea how to react to this foreign expression on his face.

"Come on. I will make you some breakfast," he said as he pulled the sheets away from her body. She looked down and noticed that she was wearing a nightdress. A nightdress that actually fit her. A bit puzzled, she followed Erik to the kitchen.

As he searched for a pan, she retrieved some eggs, bread, butter, and a bowl from the pantry. She began to crack the eggs when he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and led her to the rounded table just outside of the kitchen.

"I told you I would make breakfast."

She sat in silence as he cooked. She was afraid to ask him anything now that he commented that he did not like questions. She respected his orders. She drummed her fingers on the table until a plate was placed in front of her. As she lifted the fork to her mouth, Erik sat down next to her.

"You are awfully quiet, Cecilia. It is very uncharacteristic of you."

Trying to remember her womanly manners, she finished chewing her forkful of eggs and replied, "What is it you would like to discuss? You requested I not ask any questions, and I must say, you know pretty much all there is to know about me."

He pondered for a bit. "No, there is much I do not know about you."

"Like what for example?"

"Can you sing? What types of books do you like? How do you like your tea? What was your mother's name? Do you have any siblings? Just to name a few."

"Yes, I can sing. I have taken extensive lessons. I enjoy all books, but mainly poetry. I do not like tea, only hot water with lemon. My mother's name was Adrienne. No, I am an only child. However, Erik, I must implore you, it is rude for you to ask questions to me when I am not allowed to ask them to you."

"Oh, you may ask questions, it is just whether or not I will answer them," he said smugly.

"Very well," she replied.

They sat in silence for the remainder of the meal. Erik, having been relieved that Cecilia did not wish to ask anymore questions, arose from his seat to take her plate to the kitchen.

"I shall draw you a bath. I am sure it will make you feel much better."

She nodded in agreement as she followed him to the bedchamber. As he walked out of the bathroom, he gestured to her that everything was ready. She politely nodded and scooted him from her room.

He couldn't help but wish that she somehow she would be able to love him. He cursed himself from even thinking he would love another woman in his life. However, Erik's body could not hide the yearning to empower her voluptuous body. He could not get her out of his mind. He kept retracing the curves of her skin that he saw when changed her into the nightgown. He could not help but think of her soft silky skin and her even softer blond hair. He wanted nothing more in his life than the love of a woman. To experience a soulful union of their souls as he passionately made love to her.

She really is turning you soft isn't she old boy. You are turning into a hopeless romantic sex fiend.

Erik began to wonder how much Cecilia actually knew about him. Did she know about the murders? Or his almost affair with Christine? No, how could she possibly know anything.

Cecilia settled into her bath with a deep sigh. It felt good to be clean again. As she stepped out of the bathtub and dried herself off, she could not help but wonder if all of the myths about the Phantom of the Opera were true. What does it matter? He is obviously a jilted man. That can really change a person.

She began to think of his body again. It had been so long since she was touched by a man. She could not help but admit that his rather villainous and mysterious behavior was rather stimulating to her. It was then she came to a decision.

I am going to seduce him before he has a chance to ask me to leave again.