Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom. –sigh- But if anyone's doing holiday shopping, pick me up my very own Erik, will you? It would make me a very happy authoress! LOL

Chapter Thirty-One

Raoul stepped into the waiting carriage and fumed inwardly. His exterior displayed the cool aloofness of nobility, yet he felt like a desperate man within. I must win her back, he thought frantically. How? How am I to do this, when that monster has such a tight hold on her mind? He is nothing more than a devilish hypnotist, using his tricks on a poor, unwitting young woman. She cannot truly mean what she speaks! Gradually on the ride home, a plan began to form in his mind…one of which he was not entirely proud.

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Christine wiped the light smattering of perspiration from her brow and glanced at the clock near her. Only one hour until closing…and Erik will arrive in two hours! She felt giddy with anticipation, and the next hour passed rather quickly. She could practically feel Erik's arms around her as she distracted herself with thoughts of their previous evening together.

Madame Dubois was obviously feeling some guilt from leaving Christine with a very meager portion of food the previous night, because she had offered to purchase some items to fill the pantry the next day. "Will you be alright until tomorrow when I bring the food here?" Madame Dubois asked, clearly concerned. Christine smiled. "Yes, of course. As you said, I don't require a large amount of food each day." She knew that she would not have to worry about supper that evening, because Erik had suggested that they dine together. She nearly trembled with anticipation to see him again. Good Lord, she thought. I cannot believe that I ever thought I was in love with Raoul…clearly, Erik is the only man who makes me feel this way!

Madame Dubois locked up the shop and exited the back door, instructing Christine to lock it behind her. She did so, and ran up the steep stairs to choose a frock for her evening with Erik. She had hung several dresses in the tiny closet near one corner of the room, hoping that most of the wrinkles would fall out on their own. She found one that was cornflower blue, with a slightly lower neckline than the others. It had a narrow border of lace around the neckline, and the sleeves were long, with the same lace border at the cuffs. She reached into one of her pieces of luggage and produced a string of faux pearls. She quickly changed out of her work clothes, slipping the dress over her chemise and corset. The dress buttoned up the back, however, and she immediately found herself wishing Helene were there. She could not reach the buttons between her shoulder blades and had thoughts of changing into a completely different frock. She pinned the top half of her hair up in the back, allowing the majority of it to fall about her shoulders loosely. She was so lost in thought that she did not hear the door open behind her.

Suddenly, she sensed that she was not alone. A feeling of panic washed over her, just as she heard a voice that made stomach quiver. "Let me help you with that, mon ange." Before she knew what was happening, Erik was behind her, fastening the remaining buttons on her dress. She could feel his breath on her hair, and she closed her eyes. She was shaking, and she did not know whether it was from the fear that she had felt at first, or from the excitement that he brought to every pore of her body. "Erik," she breathed. "You startled me." She turned toward him and smiled, gazing into his deep eyes. He noticed the necklace dangling from her hand. "Allow me." She handed him the faux pearls and turned, lifting her thick mane to give him access to her neck. She felt his hands fastening the clasp at the base of her neck and his fingers traveling down to her collarbone. Slowly, he ran his hands back up to the base of her neck and down the scooped neckline at the back, tracing the lace edge with his fingertips. The sensation sent electricity through her, and she inhaled sharply.

"You look absolutely…lovely," he breathed, turning her around to face him. He placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her forehead, and she smiled, melting into him and letting her eyes flutter closed. He broke the close contact sooner than she would have liked and stepped back to let his eyes wander over her. "So," he managed to say, sounding a bit strained, "how was your day today?" He kissed her knuckles tenderly and smiled up at her. She couldn't remember a time when she had seen him so happy and at peace with himself, and with life. Anxiety began to course through her at the memory of Raoul's visit earlier in the day. Should I tell him? she wondered. He will be furious! What if he tries to harm Raoul again? She tensed visibly, and Erik's eyes searched her face with a concerned expression.

"Christine? Something is wrong…what is it? Has something happened?" He grew more agitated as she turned her back to him and bowed her head. "Please, Christine…what--what has happened?" When she didn't answer immediately, panic clutched at his chest. She doesn't want me anymore. She's changed her mind. Oh, God, no! Please don't allow this to happen! I love her…I need her! He clenched his jaw and grasped her upper arms firmly. "You have changed your mind about us," he spoke bitterly, in a somber tone.

Christine quickly spun around to look at him. "No, Erik! That isn't true! I love you, mon ange, and I always will! It's just that…I have had a difficult day today." She cast her eyes to the floor, and he tilted her chin upward as he always did when she tried to avoid his gaze.

"Tell me," he whispered, drawing his face to within inches of hers, his eyes burning into her.

She knew then that she could not, and should not, hide the truth from him…not if they were going to begin a new relationship and put the past behind them. She exhaled loudly and closed her eyes. "I don't want to tell you because I…I am afraid of what you might do."

He gritted his teeth. "That boy came here today, didn't he?"

She nodded, her eyes still tightly shut.

He exhaled loudly through his nostrils, and fought every one of his instincts—he wanted to go after the insolent young Viscomte and make him pay dearly. How could he dare to come here, after she had told him she no longer wanted him and he threw her out on the streets? At least I was willing to give her up—but this boy is so selfish that he cannot see the way he is tearing her apart! "Christine…I don't know what to say."

She opened her eyes and studied his expression then, wondering if she had just heard him correctly. "Erik? You…you aren't angry?"

"Oh, I am angry, Christine," he laughed darkly, "but not with you. I don't understand how that boy would ever dare to face you again after the way he cast you aside!"

"He was angry and hurt, Erik. You of all people should know that such strong emotions can make a person act…in irrational ways." She glanced down to his chest and back to his eyes again. Erik was staring at her with furrowed eyebrows and a slight coldness in his eyes. "I suppose you have forgiven him for his actions, then?" When she did not answer, he nodded. "Yes. You have. Very well…we all need forgiveness, do we not?" There was still a nagging question in his mind. He spoke gently and carefully. "Christine…what was it that he wanted from you?"

Tears pooled in her eyes and she bit her lip. "Another chance," she replied, closing her eyes and releasing the trails of moisture down her cheeks. Erik reached up to wipe them away. He whispered to her, hoping that it would encourage her to trust him, to let him into her heart and mind. "And…what did you tell him?"

She sniffled and blinked, gazing at him, watery-eyed. "I…I told him that I do not love him the way a wife would love a husband, and that I haven't changed my mind about breaking our engagement."

Erik sighed deeply and his shoulders sagged in relief. "I am glad to hear you say that. But do not think, mon amour, that he will give up so easily. What will you do if he comes back?"

She stiffened and steeled her chin. "I will refuse him. He…he begged me to go to dinner with him, and when I told him I had plans, he knew that it was with you! Oh, Erik! I…I didn't even want him to know that you were still living, and still here in Paris! Please forgive me, my Angel! What if your life is now in danger?" Her eyes were wide with fear, and she gripped his forearms firmly.

He pulled her into an embrace, laying her head on his chest. "Mon ange, you shouldn't worry about such things. I have survived for many years here, pursued by many men. My life has always been in danger, even before we first met. And now I have more reasons than ever to live," he smiled, burying a hand in her thick waves. "Come," he said, changing his tone to a happier one. "We have dinner plans for the evening, and I don't want to waste another moment of our precious time together."

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"Monsieur le Viscomte, there is a Monsieur Thibedeaux here to speak with you," Francois bowed.

"Thank you, Francois. Send him in."

Raoul stood and moved to the front of his desk as a tall gentleman dressed in black entered his study. "Monsieur Thibedeaux, thank you for coming so quickly."

The man extended his hand to Raoul. "Of course, Viscomte. When I heard that you were in need of my assistance, I knew that it must be for a very important reason. How may I help you?"

Raoul shifted his weight nervously. "I…need you to do some digging. I need it to be expeditious…and it could be very risky. Are you willing?"

The man smiled a ridiculously toothy grin, and it made Raoul feel uneasy, appearing more to be a sinister sneer than a smile. "Of course, Viscomte. I am the best private investigator in France...or you wouldn't have summoned me. Risks are common in my profession."

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"Don't look," Erik said, covering Christine's eyes with her hands. "No peeking now, Mademoiselle," he teased. He helped her from the carriage, which she noticed had not gone far at all.

"Erik, what are you plotting?" she laughed, clearly delighted with this new, playful side of him that she had never before experienced. There is so much good in him, Lord. He is even more beautiful to me now than he was when I thought him to be a real angel. His hands left her shoulders, and she froze, waiting for him to return.

After a few brief moments, she felt Erik's breath on her, very close to her lips. "Everything is ready. Come, mon amour." She allowed him to lead her, her hands still covering her eyes, up a few steps and through a door. The smell that wafted to her nostrils was delightful, and her stomach rumbled. She licked her lips with anticipation. At last, they stopped walking and he curled his fingers over hers. "Open your eyes."

Erik brought her hands down from her face and she blinked. All she saw at first was a warm, golden glow. Candles. Things began to shift into focus, and she realized that she was inside the church, but it was a room that she had never seen before. "Erik? What is this place?"

"This is the place that I like to call 'the storage room.'" He chuckled heartily, and gestured around him in a sweeping motion. "I know that it isn't very romantic, but it is private…and there are no prying eyes to wonder about us or make us feel uncomfortable." He pulled out a chair for her and she sat, looking around the small room in amazement. Everything looked as if it had been dusted, and the four tall candelabras were lit, surrounding the small table for two near the center of the room. This room is actually larger than my room at the shop, she thought, laughing to herself.

There were old books lying about in tall stacks, and a wooden podium with a narrow base sat in one corner of the room. Sheets covered many of the odd shapes in the room, leaving Christine to wonder what was underneath. Furniture? More books? What kinds of things do churches typically store in these rooms? She felt it strange that she had never once thought to ask such a question before. But then, she had never been a very curious child…she had been content to sing and dance, or sit with her nose in a book, but never was one to go exploring anywhere except her own attic. At least…not until Erik came into her life.

She smiled at him contentedly as he seated himself across from her. "Are you hungry, mon ange?" he asked, admiring her beauty by the glow of candlelight. "I have prepared a meal for us in the kitchen."

Christine's eyes lit up. "Oh, yes, I'm famished! And you cooked for me? Erik, you always have spoiled me so…you really shouldn't do that." She shook her head at him, frowning slightly.

He chuckled. "You have not yet tasted my cooking. Perhaps you should refrain from commenting on how I 'spoil' you until then." He left the room and returned quickly with two plates of food. "It looks delicious!" she exclaimed, as he set the plate before her.

"Now…would you care for a glass of wine?"

"Wine? Oh…oh, Erik…I do not know if it will agree with me." She blushed slightly. She typically had no occasion to drink wine, so she was a bit hesitant.

"Hush now, Christine! Trust me, I will not allow you to become inebriated!" He grinned at her deviously. "Although I must say that I am curious to see how you might act if you were!"

She scowled at him, and he laughed. "Ah, you are so beautiful when you make such hideous faces, mon ange! Really, all of your acting training from the opera has prepared you well to play the part of…an old hag, perhaps?"

She gasped and leaned toward him, slapping him on the arm playfully. "Stop it, now. And sit down. I want to eat this wonderful dinner that you've prepared for me." She smiled at him as he poured her a small glass of wine, and then raised an eyebrow at him as he poured himself a significantly greater amount. He settled into his chair and was unfolding his napkin over his lap when Christine cleared her throat. He looked up at her and gave her a half-smile. "Yes, ma cherie, I am aware that we must first say the blessing." She smiled and bowed her head.

Erik began. "Dear Lord, I thank you this evening for the food that you have given us…but I thank you most of all for this beautiful woman who sits before me. I thank you for bringing her back to me, and for allowing me the joy that she brings to my life. In Christ's Name, Amen."

"Amen," she echoed, her eyes filling with tears again. "I love you," she whispered across the table.

"And I love you," he replied as they began to eat their meal, looking forward to an evening of simply being in each other's presence.

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A/N: Well, fluffity fluff fluff! Ha! I want to thank my readers and reviewers once again. Oh…and Barbara? Thank you for your concern for my health and safety! LOL You are too sweet. Well, everyone, I believe that this story just keeps stretching longer in my mind. It won't be ending anytime soon, much to my husband's chagrin. Ha ha. I am toying with a few ideas, and I hope that you will enjoy them when they come into existence on paper.