Paladin93

A large crash startled Erik awake and sent Fidelio scrambling from the bed to investigate. With a muffled wuff, the dog hit the doorknob with his paws and nudged the door open until he could escape.

"Oh, shit."

If there was any chance of falling asleep again it was ruined the moment he heard Citrine curse under her breath. He reluctantly sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes as he heard her sweeping what sounded like shards of glass across the floor.

"You and your meddlesome paws have no business in my kitchen. Scram, you giant bag of fleas."

"What was that?" Madame Giry questioned.

"It's the way I like to start each day," Citrine replied. "Coffee is in the parlor, Madame." There was a long pause followed by the kitchen door opening and closing. "Madame Giry, may I introduce you to Rene Monteclaire's son, Gabriel? He is the horsemaster's son."

"I prefer Gabe," his deep, male voice corrected. "How do you do?"

"Very well, thank you."

Erik raised an eyebrow and unbuttoned his nightshirt. He yawned and scratched his stomach, hoping she had started her day in higher spirits than she'd ended with the previous evening.

"Philippe has spoken highly of you, Madame."

"Oh?" Madame questioned. Erik didn't quite believe Gabe's words, either.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I must tend to the horses."

"No breakfast?" Citrine asked. "You could pick out your eggs from amongst the broken glass."

"I promised Monsieur Turro that I would return to feed and water them after I saw to our stock. He cannot care for all of those animals on his own, and with his son having left for India…"

"India?" Citrine sounded frightened.

"That's what his father said. Apparently he'd mentioned that he planned to spend time in the East before his parents took their holiday in Egypt. It isn't the first time he's left without saying a word."

"Is this Antole Turro?" Madame questioned.

Erik sat very still and listened, wondering what had recently transpired. He wasn't sure if he should be angry or relieved.

"Why, yes. I hoped to inform your nephew that the Turros had returned from holiday, but he decided to sleep in his own bed last night rather than share the guest room with me."

Erik stood and pulled the wardrobe door open. He wrestled a shirt from the hanger, then fumbled to button it correctly. If Antole Turro had returned, then his wife must have also been close at hand.

With one hasty look in the mirror, he put on his mask and walked through the door.

In the hallway Sophia shrieked and tipped back. He grabbed her by the arm and steadied her before she reeled backward down the stairs.

"Well, here we are again," she said with a nervous laugh. She looked into his eyes and smiled. "Good morning."

He held her close even though she was in no longer in danger of falling. "Good morning."

"You look as though you've hardly slept at all."

"I'm fine." The end of her braid touched the back of his hand and he smiled.

"May I ask where you are off to in such a hurry?"

"Gabe said the Turros have returned."

He heard the kitchen door open and close and knew Gabe had already left. If he didn't follow at once he'd be forced to seek out Rene and request that the older man saddle a horse or prepare a carriage.

"Oh." Sophia pressed her hand to his chest. The single word and the breath that followed stopped the air in his lungs. He gazed down at her and saw her innocently blink at him. He should have excused himself, but there was no denying her. "What will you do?"

He ushered her into his room, leaving the door wide open. Though he preferred his privacy, he assumed it gave her aunt little reason to fetch Philippe.

"Pay them a visit," he answered at last.

"Today?" She still clung to him as though she would fall. As ridiculous as it was, he enjoyed protecting her even if there was no threat.

"Soon."

She stepped closer. Apprehension gave way to arousal and he nuzzled her ear. He wondered if she had any idea what she did to him—and if he had the same effect on her. Whereas his desire was becoming obvious, she was a torturous enigma. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Ah." She giggled to herself.

He stiffened. "What is so amusing?"

Lifting onto her toes, she brought her lips so close to his that he almost kissed her. Almost. Playfully she dropped down again and sighed. "Nothing."

His jaw clenched. She threatened to drive him mad with little more than a denied kiss. As much as it frustrated him, he wanted more. He pulled her closer and heard her gasp. With a laugh she turned her face away.

"Are you certain?"

She wriggled in his arms. "I cannot speak when you threaten to suffocate me."

His grasp loosened as he waited for her to lift her chin. He swallowed hard, deciding he would not allow her to deny him twice. Playfully he exhaled through his mouth and watched a strand of hair blow across her cheek.

"Better?" he questioned. His lips brushed against her forehead. "I would never intend to harm you."

Her smile widened, her fingers gently caressing his shoulder. "A little."

"Tilt your head up so that I may be certain."

She stifled another laugh. "You don't find me trustworthy?"

"Sophia," he warned.

"Yes?" She hid her eyes but he felt her body tremble as a giggle escaped.

"Look at me."

She lifted her chin and smiled. The twinkle in her eyes made her all the more mischievous and he wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed her softly. He tasted toothpowder on his tongue and wondered how long she'd been awake. Long enough to clean her teeth, at least.

At once she melted in his grasp, her hands at his back. His appetite to taste more of her than he was allowed roared to life. He no longer cared if the door was wide open or that he could hear Madame Giry and Citrine speaking.

"Now you seem to be in a better mood," she sighed once she broke away from his kiss.

"I wasn't in a bad mood."

"No, but you didn't seem happy either." Another smile flashed across her face. "But now that I'm here," she teased. "The clouds have parted and the sun is shining."

"Of course," he replied dryly. He looked down at her oval face, his heart filled with an indescribable feelings. Freedom, he thought to himself. With a smile and her playfulness, she had unlocked him from an otherwise dismal existence.

"You are in a mood. Neither good nor bad, but a mood."

"Pardon me?" He already knew what she meant, already felt it in each pulse of blood through his veins. Years, decades, of carefully contained emotion spilled out from every pore. He felt no need, no desire to hide from her emotionally.

"What has come over you, hmm?" Her eyes narrowed.

"You have."

She laughed again until he kissed her. For one brief moment she lost herself in his arms, but then Fidelio yelped and Citrine ordered him out of the kitchen and the moment was lost. As her cheeks turned crimson, Sophia cleared her throat. She didn't pull away from him but her demeanor had changed, and the playful young woman appeared slightly more straight-laced.

"Will you travel alone?" she questioned suddenly.

Their eyes met and he noticed the concern in her gaze. He'd completely forgotten the original topic of their conversation.

He shrugged. "I suppose."

"You're not interested in company?" She blinked innocently.

"I would imagine your brother will accompany me."

Her shoulders dropped and she frowned. "You could always ask…"

He turned away from her and smiled inwardly, thinking it was only fair to drive her mad as well. "Do you think Citrine would care to travel with me?"

She slapped him on the arm. "Oh, listen to you!" she grumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm surprised you didn't suggest Fidelio, too."

"Honestly it never crossed my mind." Before she could hit him again he took a step back and held out his hand in surrender. "Until you mentioned it now. In which case, I prefer your company to his."

She crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. The stern expression on her face completely changed the way she looked to him, but she couldn't hold it for long. "Because I shed less?"

Unexpectedly, he smirked. "I never said that."

She allowed him to walk toward her but stopped him short of a kiss.

"Breakfast first?" she questioned.

Food would not satisfy his hunger.

"If you wish," he replied.

She looked at him curiously before her fingers moved to the top button of his shirt and pushed it through the hole. She did the same to the second one and he felt a rush of cool air against his skin. He exhaled hard, a half-growl of desire.

"You're buttoned all wrong," she said. Her hands lingered against his chest, a tentative promise he was certain she wouldn't fulfill. Not now. Not yet.

She turned and walked to the door, glancing over her shoulder. "I'll see you at the table."

With a sly smile, she left him completely speechless.