After a loooong week and now sick with a cold, I apologize for the shorter than normal chapter. However, at least it's a chapter! :) I hope you don't mind a few bouts of sweetness before the next storm hits.

Chapter 26

As the sun began to set, Nadir finally turned off the highway and followed signs that stated Saint-Ursanne lay ahead. She had been warned that the safe house stood outside of the small town, and really, Saint-Ursanne with its few rows of buildings wasn't much of a town either. The sparse population and remote location both made for a suitable location for a property that was unlikely to get much attention.

Nadir drove them through the main street of the town, letting Christine take a look at the lines of three-story buildings that had maintained much of their medieval character over the centuries. She spied an ancient church-like structure, a stone bridge stretching across the small river, a few shops and cafes that looked like they would be fun to explore later. This was a town that had escaped much of modern development.

They passed through the town and headed up narrow, winding streets into the green fields beyond, heading higher into the mountains that surrounded the village. About twenty minutes later, she caught sight of a two-story home rising in the distance, tucked around a bend so it was not immediately noticeable until they drove up to it.

The house was white with a brown roof, with tall windows lining the walls. It seemed large and larger still the closer they got, with different corridors and rooms seeming to head off in different directions. She couldn't wait to explore her new home, wondering for a brief moment how temporary it would be. No one had told her how long they would stay, but she pushed those thoughts aside. For now, she gazed at the manor that would now be her place of residence.

"What's the building to the left?" she asked, leaning down to peer at a long structure off to the side of the house.

Nadir shot her a small smile. "A stable. Some of my favorite horses are housed there."

Horses! She did remember him mentioning at some point that there were horses. She had never been on a horse, but she was eager to give riding a try. "That sounds like fun!" She twisted around to grin at Erik. "Do you ride?"

"At times," he replied. He was still so serious, had been all day and even more so after his fight with Nadir. Now, at least, he was talking to her.

Nadir pulled the van around the driveway that curved in front of the house. "There is a small staff that has taken care of the house in our absence. They live in the village, but they can come here regularly as needed. We pay them very well for their secrecy. In any case, they will take care of the horses and come once a week to clean. Someone will also come with regular meals and groceries, which will be dropped off at set times."

"All of that must cost a fortune!"

He glanced at her with a smile. "There is money enough to spare for the convenience."

The van shuddered to a halt outside the house, and they all climbed out to stand around in the dwindling sun. A cool breeze was blowing, a bit chillier than the humid Bostonian summer back home. It was still obviously summer here, with everything in full bloom, but Christine could tell the seasons changed sooner in this higher elevation.

Nadir went around to pull their luggage from the back. "The keys should be stashed somewhere near the door."

Erik held up a ring of several keys dangling from one of his fingers. "They should hide these more securely," he scowled. He stuck the largest in the green double doors and swung open one of them.

Christine followed him inside after grabbing her own luggage. Erik saw her struggling up the steps and took her main suitcase from her, carrying it with ease and sitting it down just inside the door.

The front door of the house opened to a wide expanse of a mix of modern amenities and old world style design. As Erik gave her a quick tour of the downstairs, also checking that they were indeed alone, he showed her a large kitchen, dining room, and two living areas – one a more traditional living room with overflowing bookshelves, the other a cozy resting area near a huge fireplace covered in old stone.

Beyond even all of that, there were three separate guest bedrooms, only one of which contained a bed, all of which had their own bath. While they were exploring, Nadir set his suitcase in the room with a bed and began to unpack.

Christine continued to follow Erik as he inspected the place top to bottom. She wasn't sure what he was checking for, but he was methodical. The bottom floor of the house contained a second, smaller kitchenette near the back door, and no laundry room, but Nadir had said they would have to send their clothing off to be washed. She wasn't sure why an updated mansion like this one wouldn't have laundry, but she supposed the two men had never felt like washing their own clothes.

At one point, Erik stopped and laid a hand on a closed door off a small hallway. "The basement," he told her.

"Ah," she said, not giving it much thought. Okay, basement, got it.

Another few turns, and they entered a large room with floor-to-ceiling, deep wine-colored drapes. She immediately spied the grand piano, covered in a white cloth, in the corner of the room. Several other instruments graced various shelves and cabinets – a couple violins along with a cello.

She stepped over to the piano and lifted the cover off a corner. She raised the key cover so she could plink a few notes.

Erik winced. "It must be tuned."

"You know how to do that?"

"Of course."

Of course. She righted the blanket over the piano and followed him out of the room.

"I would love to sing again, Erik, once we are settled."

His eyes were intense as he glanced back at her. "As would I."

He led her up the wide staircase she had spotted near the front door. It curved around to reach a long hallway with one door on one side and two on the other. More bedrooms, she guessed. He showed her the two smaller bedrooms, continuing his inspection. He must be making sure the place was secure before they settled in.

The two bedrooms were nearly identical in size, both with smaller beds and single dressers. They walked over to the other door, which opened to a huge bedroom with opulent furniture. A four-poster bed stood to one side. The bedroom had its own floor-to-ceiling fireplace.

"What a gorgeous house," Christine said, which was true. "I can't believe the size of this room!" She had always lived in the city, either Boston or Hartford, Connecticut, or traveled in big cities with her father. Living spaces had usually been small at best and cramped at worst. She went over the window and tossed open the curtains, letting in more light.

She could feel Erik's eyes studying her. Turning, she grinned at him, trying to show that she was happy. Because she was happy to finally be here with him, in this house where they would live for who knew how long.

"You may stay here," he said, gesturing to indicate the master bedroom. "I can easily take one of the other rooms."

Her grin faltered. "What do you mean?" He wanted them to stay in separate rooms?

"I thought you would prefer your own space."

She stared at him from across the room. He had stayed in the shadows, away from the window. "I'm sorry if I'm a bit confused." She was more than confused. Hurt made her next words more strained than she wanted. "After sharing a room on the cruise… I thought we might do that here."

"You… want to share a room? This room?"

She hated the flush she felt heat her cheeks. Did she have to spell it out for him? "I came here to be with you, Erik." She walked across the room until she stood just in front of him, forcing him to face her head-on. "I think I've made it clear enough by now that I don't want to be your roommate or your friend. I want to be more than that."

He didn't reply. Instead, his cold hands clasped hers and raised them between them. With soft tenderness, he pushed up her sleeves to reveal the dark bruises on her wrists. He held her exposed wrists up, his point clear.

"I don't recall telling you to stop," she said, frowning a little. "Maybe it could've gone differently, but I meant what I said before. We will figure it out together. We will learn together. I love all of you, Erik, not just the parts that are easy."

"None of me is easy, my dearest."

She laughed softly at that. She stood on her tiptoes, which wasn't nearly enough to steal a kiss. However, he understood her upturned plea and bent to press his lips to hers.

"Kissing you is easy," she said, gazing up at him. His golden eyes shimmered in the low light of evening. "The rest will fall into place over time."

"You have too much faith in me."

"You have such little faith in yourself." She laid a palm against the darkening bruise on his exposed cheek. "I'm sorry about this."

"This was hardly any fault of yours!" he huffed, covering her hand with his own. "I deserved whatever he deemed necessary, and he certainly did not pull his punch. For once."

She gave a small smile. "Even so, it's our job to define our romantic relationship, isn't it? As much as Nadir adores you, I don't expect him to fully understand anything between us."

"Romantic relationship?" Erik echoed, raising his singular brow.

She shrugged. "That's how I think about it. If that's acceptable to you?"

"More than." He folded his tall body down to once again kiss her. His hands still on hers, he raised her hands to his face and pressed gently kisses down and around her bruised wrists. "Christine, I will gladly share this room with you, if you so wish."

"You know I do. I want this to be our room."

His fingers stroked one of her curls before he released her and stepped back. "I will fetch our luggage. The kitchen should be well stocked if you require any food. We haven't yet had dinner."

They both headed back downstairs. Christine felt giddy with the possibilities now spread before her. Erik had agreed to share a room with her without much argument. He had also let her define what was between them, give it the name relationship for the first time.

What might she start calling him? Calling him her "boyfriend" sounded too juvenile and "lover" too crass. "Partner" was too distant, and "suitor" implied the future of something beyond what they were sharing. They had never discussed what might come after, and Christine was not ready to broach the subject in any way.

She had called him her "love" before, and she adored the sound of that. However, the word seemed worthy of use only in private when they were alone.

No other word seemed to fit, so she supposed simply her "Erik" he would stay.

So wrapped up in her thoughts, she almost bumped into his back when he stopped in the doorway into the kitchen. She peered around him, spying Nadir sitting at the island counter, sipping what smelled like tea.

"I've made you each a cup," he said, smiling. His warm brown eyes looked heavy with fatigue, but his attitude was better than it'd been toward the last portion of their drive. "There is plenty of food as well."

"I'm not really hungry," Christine said, coming forward to join him. "I'd love some tea though."

Erik handed the cup she handed him without complaint, raising the fine china to his lips and sipping carefully around his mask. Christine found the tea to be delicious, soothing her tired body and warming her dry throat.

"Did a thorough sweep, did you?" Nadir asked the other man.

"I did. I found nothing, which was expected."

"Can't be too careful. I'm happy to hear the place is still clean."

"As am I."

The three of them fell into a companionable silence, cut only by the sounds of swallowing and the soft clink of porcelain cups. After Christine stifled her second yawn, both men rose to shoo her away.

"Go to bed, my dear," Erik said, gently taking her empty cup from her hands. "I will soon follow."

She bid Nadir goodnight, another yawn squeezing tears into the corners of her eyes. The hot tea had settled into her, and the long day of traveling was starting to hit her hard. She made her way back upstairs and toed off her shoes, pulled off her cardigan.

Erik arrived with both of their suitcases, and they spent a few moments unpacking toiletries. More than once, she had to smother a smile that rose to her face while watching him do something so utterly normal like finding his toothbrush. Her clothes reeked after being packed away for almost two days, and she made a face.

"I don't have anything to wear!" she said, aghast. Why hadn't she thought to put anything in her overnight bag instead?

Erik rooted in the closet, which contained some of his own regular clothes, for a garment bag and held it out to her. "Put your clothes in here, and they will be washed tomorrow. For now, I believe there are a variety of shirts and pants in the dresser. You might find something there." Amusement curled the side of his mouth. "I never quite know what the locals might leave when they stock the house."

She searched the dresser and pulled out a large t-shirt and soft pair of sweat pants, both of which were too long on her. But the clothes were better than wearing anything stinky from her suitcase, so they would do.

"You may go first," he said, indicating the bathroom, which had two sinks, but she wasn't going to complain. If he wanted privacy to get ready for bed, she could give it.

She grabbed the clothes and her toiletries bag and headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower, dressed in the fresh clothing, she felt much better and ready to try out the four-poster bed that stood grandly to one side of the room. She tucked her bra into the top drawer of the dresser, refusing to wear it to bed anymore.

For a man who slept little, Erik had always insisted on the best. The coverlet on the bed was plush, a dark gray that had a slight satiny sheen to it. She pulled the covers back and slid between the sheets, sighing contentedly at the softness that surrounded her.

Erik finished in the bathroom himself. He had changed his clothes, but only into a pair of his usual black pants and a clean button-down shirt. She knew the pajamas she had bought him were in the laundry pile, but still – would he not wear something from the dresser to bed?

It was their first night here, and she could let any of the weirdness go. He was still on edge around her, they had still not moved beyond what had happened in that British hotel, and so she bit her tongue against any rising retorts. Even when he joined her in bed and did not remove his mask, she didn't say anything.

She did curl again him immediately, before he could voice any protest. To his credit, his arm came around her and held her close. His heart was beating only a little quicker than his usual calm tempo, and the long line of his body was relaxed and at ease.

"We made it," she murmured as sleep began to take her under.

"That we did," he said, voice soft and musing.

She sighed and tucked her face against him. Her thoughts slowly melted into sleep, but one feeling rose, one she had shoved aside until now. If she hadn't been mostly asleep by then, she might have possessed the wherewithal to deny the thought to leave her mouth. But she was worn out, and her lips moved of their own accord.

"I miss my mama."

He stiffened around her, but she was already gone to sleep.