I have started work, which means shorter chapters. I hope to continue to update every few days, however!

Chapter 23

"You can't be serious!" Christine cried. "Erik, please let this be a joke!"

Christine looked at each of the two men, her eyes wide with disbelief. The three of them were seated at the dining table, halfway through the evening meal. Nadir avoided making eye contact while Erik calmly sipped his wine.

Christine leapt to her feet, throwing her napkin onto the table. "Nadir, tell him he is insane. He can't do this!"

"Unfortunately, he's right," Nadir said, slowly, as though choosing his words carefully. "Erik must get back into the shipping crate tonight if he wants to have any hope of doing so without being seen."

"But why tonight? We still have all day tomorrow and tomorrow night before we reach England!"

"Because of the way they collect everyone's luggage at the end of the trip. If you want the crew to carry your bags off the ship for you, you must leave it out by midnight of the last night, which is tomorrow. This means that crew members will be more active that night as they collect and sort everyone's belongings. We disembark early the next morning."

She shook her head, so upset over this. "There has to be a better way." She gestured wildly at the silent man sitting beside her. "He'll be in that box for two days!"

"If there was another way, we would have found it." Nadir sighed, and then looked sharply at Erik. "You should have told her before now."

Erik scowled at the rebuke, but he didn't disagree.

Christine felt tears welling up, the lump in her throat making it difficult for her to speak. The two men were gazing up at her as though she was being the unreasonable one, and she couldn't take it anymore. She bolted from the table, going upstairs to her bedroom, the only place she had in this cabin where she could get away. She sat cross-legged on the bed and dug her knuckles into her eyes to stem the flow of tears.

A few moments later, Erik joined her, and the mattress dipped as he sat next to her.

"I should have told you earlier," he acknowledged.

"Yes, you should have."

One of his hands brushed her hair back from her forehead. "The moment never was right, especially while you were so ill. But yes, I should have made the effort."

She huffed and leaned into his touch. "I don't like the thought of you in that horrible crate. Even with plenty of water, that is no way for anyone to travel!"

"While I understand your concern, my dear, I have traveled in far worse conditions before, if you recall. At least for the majority of this voyage, I was able to enjoy your company. I assure you, a few days spent in a box are well worth the time we have spent together." His voice turned wry, and she knew exactly to what he was referring.

They hadn't spoken directly about what had happened yesterday. Like usual, he had risen before her, but he had slid back into bed soon after she woke, taking her into his arms as she blinked away her lingering drowsiness. They kissed, letting their arms roam across each other's backs. She had plucked at his cravat, wishing he didn't always get dressed so early. She had been entertaining the thought of him since she had gotten up, and she was already growing warm.

But before she could try to initiate anything more, he had left the room so she could get dressed, saying her breakfast was downstairs when she was ready.

If she'd known he was going to be leaving so soon, she wouldn't have left today to explore more of the ship. Maybe he hadn't wanted to worry her any longer than he had to, but still, he should have told her so she could have been better prepared. She had spent little time with him today, thinking they still had all of tomorrow.

Instead, they barely had any of the night.

She scooted closer to him on the bed, rose up on her knees, and put her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek to the exposed side of his face.

"Did Nadir leave?"

"He did. With the promise of his time tomorrow, if you wish."

She sighed heavily, not at the thought of spending time with Nadir but at the realization that she wouldn't have Erik. She squeezed him in a tight hug. "What time do you have to go?"

"Around two in the middle of the night should be safest. Nadir will follow to make sure the crate is tightly secured."

"I'll stay up with you."

"Christine, there is no reason-"

"There is plenty of reason!" she said fiercely, trying not to cry at the thought of him shut up inside darkness for days. "I can nap all I want tomorrow, so I'm staying awake until you leave."

He didn't argue further, instead clasping her hands in his and bending his head to kiss her fingers. She enjoyed the sensation of his cold misshapen lips on her, but she wanted more than that. She gently pulled her hands free of his and grasped the edges of his coat to slide it off his shoulders. Shrugging out of it, he tossed it aside and twisted his torso so he could kiss her. Still, she wanted more, guiding him by his cravat to join her sideways across the bed, both of them reclining on their elbows.

She kept her movements slow, giving him ample time to protest with words or stop her with his hands. She marveled at the fact that he let her loosen the black silk at his throat and lift it off his neck, and then continued to ply her with soft kisses as she unbuttoned his waistcoat and pushed it free of his shoulders.

After he slipped the material down his arms, he rejoined her, this time with a surge that took his body atop hers, one of his legs resting between hers. At different points in their relationship, he had used his taller, larger body against her – looming, threatening, holding her still with his strength. Now, she relished the weight of him pressing her down into the soft mattress, the flutter of his heart against hers, the dig of one of his sharp hip bones.

She so desperately wanted to feel him around her, to commit him to memory before they were parted. Maybe she was being a touch dramatic, but she remembered the horrible shape he had been after his first trek across the ocean to get to her. While he had spent the entirety of a week inside a shipping crate, at least he'd had much more room to move about. Now, as she understood it, he would be lying down with his legs somewhat tucked up, a comfortable enough position except he would be that way for two days.

So yes, she was upset at what he had to go through. She didn't care if she understood why, if she knew that it was the only way to keep all of them safe. Her Erik shouldn't have to endure anymore suffering.

Tonight, she wanted to feel him, but she wanted to see him too, to rest her eyes on his full face. She wanted to let him leave her with the lingering feel of her lips against the part of him that he so hated.

Her hand curved against the unyielding porcelain of his mask. "Let me see you, love," she whispered, pulling back enough to gauge the reaction in his eyes.

Those twin amber eyes searched her face, and the yearning she saw within him threatened to overwhelm her. His thin lips parted as though he might say something, and for a quick second she caught a flash of fear. She understood. The lights were fully on in the room, and they were entwined in an intimate position. How could she ask such a thing?

But she didn't relent. She needed this. He needed this.

When his eyes slid closed and he bowed to kiss her again, she hooked her fingers around his mask and gently pried it from his face. When she then ghosted her fingertips along his hairline, he flinched, his arms around her tightening, his teeth clashing with hers in a sudden deepening of their embrace. With his assent, she pulled the wig from his head, baring his true appearance to the room.

She had seen him in the darkness of the bedroom every night, though only the one quick glance without the wig, but this seemed different. As she broke her mouth away from his and gently pushed him back an arm's length above her, she drank in the sight of him.

Her man, her love. She had chosen to flee across an ocean with him. She still didn't know exactly where they were headed. She hadn't thought to ask yet because the location didn't much matter to her. What mattered most was staying by his side, her only thought when she had taken that cruise ticket from Nadir. She wanted to stay with Erik, be with him in any way that he would allow her to be.

Rising up on one elbow, she pressed her lips to his ruined cheek and traced his point of despair with her mouth. When he captured her lips with his own, she ran her hands over his bare scalp, smoothing the sparse, soft hair, loving that he was allowing her to do this freely. After they reached their destination, she would make it her mission to turn this into a normal occurrence, to replace his old memories with new ones of them together.

However, when one of her hands drifted to unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt, he stopped her. "Please," he panted. "This is enough."

She hid her disappointment by again pressing reassuring kisses to the thin skin across his right cheekbone. She perceived that he wanted her – had wanted her for a long time. Hadn't he told her so in those moments when he had lost control of his tongue? Even now, she could feel the bulge of him against her thigh.

But she nodded, not wanting to push too much on this last night they had together aboard the ship. "Only touch?" she offered.

In response, his hands dipped between her and the mattress, hiking up her shirt in the back. She arched beneath him to give him better access and felt the constricting material give way. Soon, the undergarment joined his clothes on the bed next to them, and his broad hands were spreading across her back, stroking her skin aflame.

This time, she felt one of his hands slide to her belly and start upward, and her stomach muscles bunched in response to the caress. He wanted – he was going to – she couldn't stop him, not after she had exposed him before her.

She so rarely allowed even herself to bother with her chest except to wash in the shower, the skin normally too sensitive and painful. She sucked in a sharp breath, and he paused to press a kiss against her neck.

"Christine…?" he left the question in the air. Oh, the sound of her name on his lips.

"Gently," she whispered.

His hand, cool on her heated skin, laid along the center of her chest, over her breastbone. Her heartbeat drummed against that new touch. And gentle was his first caress along the edge of one of her scars, his fingertips floating along the line until he met her arm. She knew exactly what he was learning about her body – the raised and puckered flesh, the uneven path of the knife, the missing nipple.

His breath tickled her ear. "You're trembling, my dear. Am I causing you pain?"

"N-no." She swallowed thickly. "After my first surgery, the incisions became infected and they had to reopen them. Sometimes they still hurt, but mostly now they are sensitive."

His hand moved to the other side, repeating the process of tracing the scar under her shirt. She was surprised that his touch, however light, didn't cause at least a little ache, but when she shuddered under his attentions, it wasn't from any pain. Her chest had been a source of torment for her for years, but she saw the possibilities in a new light.

She lay still as he explored, and when he murmured into her mouth, she loved him all the more.

"Always so soft, Christine, even here."

She couldn't help the whimper that fled her throat. How could this touch send want coursing through her? But it did, the acceptance of all of her by him. Even if he hadn't seen her, his touch was enough for now. Almost of their own accord, her hips shifted and rolled, bringing her closer to him, seeking something more.

He broke away with a gasp as she brushed against him. His hand left her shirt to grasp her hip, but whether that was to immobile her movement or bring her closer, he couldn't seem to decide. She wanted something, more friction, anything more. Their mouths crashed back together, and she delighted in being able to feel the full breadth of his lips without the mask, to push herself against him without the scrap of porcelain. Just him and her and skin unencumbered.

Then his hand was between her legs, fingers curling to press the apex of her jeans, and he swallowed her moan. Desperate for more of him, for that contact that had consumed her thoughts since last night, she snaked her own touch down his quivering belly until she felt the rigid weight of him in her palm.

In a flash, he was off the bed and crashing through the curtain in his haste to get away. His own natural grace saved him from sprawling in the floor. He stumbled upright, his shirt askew, his bare face staring at her with undisguised desire.

She sat up, her hurt evident, and she waited for him to either flee or explain himself.

Once he had drawn some composure, he panted, "Not yet, not yet. I cannot yet!"

Why? was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit the word before it could come out. He was obviously in distress. As they measured each other, the throbbing between her legs eased, and she felt her blood beginning to slow. She had been so close to giving him all of herself.

"Okay," she said, straightening her shirt. "Okay."

He didn't come closer, but he stopped looking like he was about to bolt. "Forgive me, dearest."

"Nothing to forgive," she replied, and she meant it. She had never even wanted to go further than kisses with anyone. If he needed to get beyond this journey across the ocean before he was willing to give into what he so obviously wanted from her, then she could be patient for as long as he needed.

He shifted his feet, one of his hands coming up to smooth the sparse tuffs of hair on his head. He seemed to become all at once highly aware of his lack of wig and mask, and she refused to glance at her bra lying on the bed beside her. They were both exposed, both at a crossroads between each other where they had to accept before going forward.

The day after tomorrow, they would both disembark and start the next phase of their flight across the world together.

Together.

She opened her arms, smiling at him. None of this matter as long as they were together. He came to her, once more pressing her to the bed. This time, their hands didn't stray but they took each other in with lips and tongue.

Sometime later, she became aware of his hand on her shoulder as he gently prodded her awake. She was fully alert and on her feet in seconds.

"I'm so sorry for falling asleep!" she cried, genuinely upset with herself.

But he only gave her a slight up tilt of lips. He had fully dressed, including hat, cloak, and gloves. His suitcase was packed and sitting in the living room for Nadir to pick up later.

She refused to let go of him until Nadir knocked softly on the door, looking sharper and less bleary-eyed than she expected. They had to be on their best guard in order to sneak Erik back into the bowels of the ship. Nadir carried several large bottles of water, which didn't help ease her heart.

She told herself she wouldn't cry, but of course she did. Not caring that Nadir watched over them, she flung herself at Erik, and they shared a final moment between them. Whispers of her love passed from her lips to his.

And then Nadir was leading him swiftly away, both of them silent shapes in the hallway, making sure they weren't caught, and Erik was gone, and she couldn't bear to watch him after his cloak darted out the door, flapping like a thing alive.

Her sobs continued for a long time after her cabin grew silent.