Just a few notations that I wish to make…

The island, Wee Cumbrae, is a real island in the Scottish Sea. It is up for sale at this time…does anyone have an extra 3 million British pounds just lying around?

(I didn't think so)

Anyway, if you would like to put a little visual stimulation with the story, you can go to "privateislandsonline(dot)com", search "By Region", look under "Europe" and then hit "Scotland". Wee Cumbrae Island is the first listing.

Take a look, it's really neat!

Enjoy my lovlies.

BEYOND THE SHADOWS

CHAPTER 6

When she awoke, it was the next morning…and all she could remember were images of a beautifully masculine body doing a workout down by the water. The sight of a white, half-mask sullied those images, but only briefly...she knew he wore it for a reason.

The boy from the playground…was Erik St. Clair. It had to be. What a strange turn of events. He had certainly outgrown the awkward, lanky form he'd had all those years ago. Her mind recalled a tall, dreadfully skinny boy lurking in the corner…never drawing attention to himself if he could help it.

He had abandoned that effort to help her on that morning so long ago; and she had thrown it back in his face. She only hoped he would forgive her.

Christine's images of that day twenty years ago were becoming more refined as she thought about it. She could recall the deformity he hid behind that mask, and it was deplorable. But even knowing that, Christine could not dismiss the alluring comeliness of the rest of him.

Suddenly it dawned on her; the deformity was the reason he kept himself from the world; it was the reason he never married or pursued relationships. It had forced him into seclusion.

Just as quickly, Christine felt a deep loathing for this "Lana" woman…whoever she was. She had shattered Erik's self-image for her own personal gain…if Christine ever got her hands on her…

This changed everything. Erik was no longer an elusive billionaire with a story that no one knew; he was now someone that she knew; someone whose life had touched hers; and that touch had left an impression.

She crawled out of bed, took a quick shower, and headed to the dining hall for breakfast; which was waiting, fresh and delicious.

Everyone was around the table eating bacon and eggs; once again, their host was absent…too bad, she wanted to see if he was as gorgeous in the daylight as he was in moonlight.

The sisters were chatting openly about going shopping in Glasgow later; it would be an all day affair.

"Will Mr. St. Clair be joining us?" Christine finally asked.

Rebekah scoffed at that suggestion. "Not likely, he is currently taking his meal in his room" She stated.

She was suddenly angry at his self-abhorring ways, "He's a prisoner in his own home…this ends right now." Christine replied, vehemently.

She walked over to the intercom speaker and pressed the button. It took a few minutes, but Erik finally answered.

"Ms. Daae." His voice was devoid of its usual beauty.

Christine felt her heart lurch in her chest, she was nervous about meeting him; she didn't know why…it could have something to do with the intense pull she felt toward him.

"Please, call me Christine." She insisted. "I grow tired of these games, Mr. St. Clair…this is your home and you act as though you are a prisoner."

"Believe me Christine; I conceal myself for a reason." His reply was flat and laced with malice. "If I am to call you, Christine; then you shall call me Erik."

She held her ground, "I know why you wear that mask, so let's just drop the curtain of secrecy and face each other."

There was complete silence in the house for what seemed like ages; then his voice, full of betrayal and anguish filled the room.

"You've been where you should not have been…" He spewed, "…this is my house and my island, there are certain places where I…" His words were cut short by Christine's irritated tone,

"I am perfectly aware of your 'ownership' of everything on this island…but you do not own me." Her tone was clipped and offensive. "I cannot believe that you would think me so shallow, that the fact that you wear a mask would keep you from talking to me – face to face."

Erik sat there, completely dumbfounded. No one had ever spoken to him this way – except his sisters; and they only did it now and then. Now, this sprite was challenging him in a very personal way.

"I never thought you shallow…" his euphonic voice was back. "…I conceal myself as much for my sake, as for yours."

Christine sighed loudly and calmed her voice, "I came here to get to know you, Erik." She murmured, "And that is precisely what I intend to do."

"What if you are disappointed when you get to know me?" Came the quiet question.

Christine smiled, despite the hot tears she was trying so desperately not to shed, "I can guarantee that I won't be."

Christine heard his sigh, and knew he was terrified at the notion of being close to her; she would soon be changing that.

"It seems that we know each other…or, at least I think we do." Christine professed.

"I would remember meeting a woman like you..." he stated.

"I wasn't quite a woman when we meant." She replied.

If she could have seen the looks that were crossing Erik's handsome face at that moment, she would have been rolling on the floor laughing.

"Excuse me…" he chuckled.

Christine sighed exasperatingly, "Erik, please emerge from that subterranean holding cell and meet me on the tennis courts, ready to learn a lesson or two, in one hour."

Erik jolted at her demanding tone, but he was also very intrigued. This woman was used to getting her way with men…apparently; she had no idea that he was a poor imitation of a man; besides, she must be mistaken…where would they know each other from?

He would have remembered meeting her…she was a hard woman to dismiss. He knew her to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her picture showed her to have beautiful, mahogany colored hair; intelligent, deep blue eyes; full, moist lips, and a long, sinewy neck. Erik could spend hours just looking at her picture.

His overdeveloped sense of morbid curiosity encouraged him to dress in his white tennis shorts, a short-sleeved, green and white, vertical-striped shirt, ankle-cut socks and clean, white Adidas Barricade tennis shoes.

He did not know what purpose it was going to serve to play her in a game of tennis, but he was never one to turn down a challenge; especially when that challenge came from a certain, drop-dead, gorgeous brunette.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Christine sat at the table, going over the events of the last couple of hours. She had somehow gotten through to him, using her aggressive side; a part of her wondered if he liked aggressive women.

She had found it harrowing trying to appeal to his sense of logic, so she appealed to his testosterone levels; no man could resist a challenge, especially one issued by a woman.

After and hour and fifteen minutes, she was wondering if he was going to show up. She looked at her watch one more time and then caught the sight of him walking toward her.

'Oh dear Lord, he's wearing shorts.' Christine thought, trying to avert her eyes from his powerful, lean, tanned legs; but she wasn't having very much success.

The undeniable beauty of the rest of him made the mangled flesh under his mask seem insignificant. Christine could not find one thing about the man that was not attractive; he moved gracefully and flowing, resembling a feline, as he came toward her gawking form.

She had chosen a turquoise and white running suit, with her own white Adidas. She had tied her hair back in a ponytail and applied a light dusting of make-up, just for effect.

"Well, Erik…I had begun to think you weren't coming." She stated with a teasing tone.

She stood up and offered her hand in a friendly gesture. He took it firmly in his large one, pulled it to his delectably full lips, and placed a chaste kiss upon her upturned wrist.

He smiled and raised his exposed, perfect brow, "I never refuse a challenge."

She looked directly into those vivid green eyes that had haunted her for 20 years. She knew, undoubtedly, that this man was her hero from the playground. Today, she would tell him everything; and hope it did not abruptly end their budding friendship.

"If I win, you answer all the questions that I propose, no matter how personal in nature; as well as listen to me…if you win…I'll leave you alone." Christine believed in getting to the point.

Erik smirked impishly, and issued a rebuttal to her conditions. "If you win, I'll answer any question you ask, no matter how personal; as well as listen to you…but if I win…" he looked slightly uncomfortable for a tiny moment, "…well, I will name my terms later."

"I accept those terms." She stated with a smile.

He nodded and they headed for their respective sides of the court. Erik was encouraged by her obvious ability to tolerate his presence, and she didn't even focus her line of sight on his mask; he enjoyed that very much.

He allowed her to serve first, amazed by the power behind her serve. She was obviously a strong woman, physically; a trait that Erik found very attractive, but she wasn't one of those body building types, thank goodness. The last thing he found attractive about a woman was when she had muscles bigger than his…and that was saying something.

As she turned to walk away from him, Erik raked his eyes over her slender form. She was taller than any woman he had seen, coming up to his chin; making her about 5'10". She was proportioned well for being tall; there was no lankiness or awkwardness in her steps… only elegant, female prowess.

Erik noted her pleasant, supple curves and the very ample swell of her breasts; his mind was persuading his body into an aroused state, and his line of thinking embarrassed him. He shook the thoughts from his head and concentrated on winning.

TBC