Chapter Eighteen
"Where is your masked lover now?"
"Right here!" a voice growled from the darkness. Christine gasped as Jacque was thrown off of her, landing roughly against the wall. He moaned in pain and collapsed. Erik was suddenly there, looming above her and yet she had never been more glad to see anyone in her life.
"E-Erik..." her sobs were shaking her small frame and tenderness washed over Erik's face.
"Shh, Christine, it is over," he murmured. His arms were suddenly around her and her body collapsed against him in sheer relief. He took his coat off and wrapped her shaking body in it. He carried her out of the room and Christine raised her head only slightly to see Ronald and several other men standing and waiting.
"There is no sign of Philippe, my lord," he said.
"I will find the bastard," Erik growled. Christine clutched onto his neck.
"No, Erik!" she whispered urgently. He looked down at her tear filled eyes.
"What?" he wondered.
"Please...You cannot risk getting injured, your wounds are still to new," she whispered pleadingly.
"This could be my only chance," Erik insisted.
"You are to angry to fight, your lust for revenge will blind you!" she said, pleading with him to see reason. Erik hesitated, knowing she was right but not wanting to let Philippe go.
"She is right, my lord, not tonight," Ronald said. Erik sighed and nodded.
"Very well," he said reluctantly. Christine buried her head against him in relief.
"Thank you," she whispered. She would not be able to stand seeing him hurt again. They made it out of the manor quickly and quietly and Erik brought Christine into the carriage waiting for them, closing the door behind him. He cradled her on his lap and cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him.
"How badly are you hurt, cherie?" he wondered. Christine looked away from him, suddenly very ashamed. He stroked her cheek with gentle fingertips.
"Tell me, Christine," he whispered.
"He...touched me," she whispered. Erik growled. Christine began to shiver again and Erik pulled her closer.
"He had done this same thing to me two years ago..." she whispered.
"You knew that man?" he said. She nodded.
"As a young girl," she replied. He pulled his coat to the side slightly to reveal her collarbone and neck, both purple in bruises and numerous scratches. She winced in pain when he touched them gently.
"God, Christine...forgive me," he whispered. Her eyes snapped to his in disbelief.
"What are you talking about?" she murmured.
"This is my fault, if I had not forced you to stay in my home-"
Christine put a finger to his lips, silencing him.
"No, this is no ones fault but Philippe's and Jacques, they are monsters, Erik," she whispered.
"They would have known nothing of you if not for me," he said.
"Perhaps, but you took me away from them," she said.
"Not soon enough," he whispered. Christine studied him and saw the genuine pain he was feeling because of what she had gone through. No one since her father had ever felt that way for her and it made her open her eyes for the first time since meeting this man. He was not like the rumors said. He was a man, alone and scarred, who only wanted to be accepted for himself. Why couldn't he have at least that?
"Erik," she whispered. He looked down at her and she smiled tenderly. Her hand cupped his cheek and very gently she pressed her lips against his. His body tensed beneath her and he remained immobile for the longest time. Christine allowed her fingers to tangle in his hair as she pressed closer. None of the revulsion she felt with other men swamped her. This was Erik.
He kissed her back moments later. His lips and tongue were gentle for he knew what she had just been through but he knew she felt his passion. When she pulled away to look at him her eyes were dilated and a smile played across her lips. She leaned down and snuggled against him, feeling completely and utterly safe in his arms.
Erik promised himself that nothing was going to happen to her again because of him. He would do anything keep that promise because...he had fallen in love with her.