Chapter Thirteen

Healing Hands

Erik kept his eyes closed as Christine bathed him. He prayed that she would not see his raging desire but he could do nothing to stop his body from responding to her touch.

When he had begun to desire Christine physically he had no idea but he thought it might be when she had first started taking care of him. She was beautiful and the feel of her hands was completely welcome. If only he was able to do something about the desire that raged at him.

He hated being immobile like this and when he had first seen the wounds on his chest he had cursed a string of curses that had caused a blush to steal up Christine's cheeks.

But now the feel of her cool hands on his heated flesh was making his body incredibly hard and wanting. She seemed to have forgotten the fact that she had torn his mask from his face. And if she had not she was making up for it by saving his life.

"Tell me about your father," Erik said into the silence of the room. Christine smiled. She had learned quickly when he was raging with fever that the sound of her voice calmed him and made him relax.

Since he had woken he had asked for stories to amuse him since he could not entertain himself. She settled herself in a chair next to the bed and folded her hands in her lap. She gazed out the window as she began.

"He was a very talented musician…he could play the violin like no man I have ever met. He raised me after my mother died giving birth to me and we traveled all over France…I miss him," she whispered.

Erik took her hand in his and gently squeezed. She smiled in gratitude. He tried to shift on the bed and groaned in frustrated pain. She sat down beside him and as he watched she gently traced one of the scars with the tip of her fingertip. Erik swallowed.

"Did it hurt?" she wondered softly.

"No," he lied. Christine glanced at him with a small grin on her face.

"Liar," she whispered. He nodded.

"Yes, it hurt like hell, is that what you wanted to hear?" he asked. To his annoyance she nodded.

"They look painful," she murmured. To his disbelief she leaned forward and gently ran her lips across one of them. She pulled away with a blush and looked away.

"Christine…I never- I mean I have not properly thanked you for helping me," he said nervously.

"There was no way I would not help you, Erik," she said sincerely. He frowned.

"Even after what I have done?" he wondered.

"I would never deny someone that is in need," she replied. God, she was just so innocent and pure, and he was a monster for making her stay here.

Christine half expected him to say that she was free to go but when the words did not come out of his mouth she felt a sharp disappointment. He simply coughed and closed his eyes. Christine sighed and went to get him some water.

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Late that night Christine sat in her own room, reading Philippe's letter for what had to be the hundredth time. It had stirred her curiosity about Erik greatly and she was wondering what she should do. She could not leave and talk to Philippe personally for Erik had yet to let her go and she would not write a letter.

There had to be some way to find out if these things about Erik were true. Perhaps he had something around the manor that could help her with her search. Letters or documents, something to tell her what she needed to know. But anything of that importance would be kept close to Erik…in his bedroom.

She tried to think back to what she had seen in his room that could hide such things. There was a desk but she had already been through them when she was looking for writing materials to occupy her mind while Erik slept. His wardrobe contained nothing but close and then there was the trunk at the foot of his bed. She had never had the need to look inside and had really never thought about it much. Now she had to look inside because she was more inquisitive then she had any right to be.

Pulling on a robe Christine slipped out of her room and walked silently towards Erik's room. She was distressed to see that Rupert was standing guard outside the room. Putting on her best smile she approached him. Though he seemed surprised to see her he smiled and gave a small bow.

"Mademoiselle, it is rather late to be walking around," he said. She smiled what she hoped was charmingly.

"I know, but I could not sleep and thought I would check on Erik," she lied. She hated telling tales but felt she had no choice.

"I just looked in on him, he is sleeping soundly, nothing for you to worry about," Rupert assured her. Christine nodded and gave a false sigh of relief.

"I am glad, I have been worried about him lately, but you do not think it would be alright if I sat with him for an hour or so?" she wondered. Rupert did not answer immediately and she feared that he had somehow figured out that her intentions were anything but honorable.

"I am sure Erik would not mind, that was thoughtful of you, mademoiselle," he said finally. Christine smiled although it was false because she was not thinking about Erik at the moment. With a small thanks she slipped into the room.