Obligatory disclaimer - I do not own any of the Characters or plotlines of Phantom of the Opera, they of course are from the genius of Leroux.
A/N Hi all, I got a couple of strange reviews inferring that chapter five was repeated, it wasn't; I think that FF has been acting up a little bit lately and possibly the link was not quite right. Anyway, chapter five revealed some very important information regarding who was behind the kidnapping attempt, so if you missed that info please go back so the rest of the story will make more sense. As always thanks so much for your reviews, even the one who compared my story to a Dallas-type soap opera, not a bad thing in my opinion.
Author – KatieKay90
Beta – Terpsichore314 – Thanks Terpsichore! You constantly amaze me with your expertise. I am so grateful for your unparalleled support.
Title – Unforgiven
Chapter 6 – Beginning Again
Christine closed her eyes as she breathed in the intoxicating sea air, feeling its healing powers infuse her soul.
Erik stood back in the balcony doorway, his intense longing etched on his half-masked face. How close I came to losing her, the reminder of his utter failure to protect her never far from his tortured thoughts. Seeing her here now, in the very spot where he had vowed to love her for the rest of his days, he felt humbled to be offered a second chance to recapture the exquisite love they had shared. "Would you like to see the rest of the house?" he asked softly, as if she would startle at his normal voice.
Turning, she offered her husband a slightly guilty smile, "Sorry, I guess the view just captured my attention," she said, walking towards him.
"No matter," Erik said gently as he led her through the elegantly designed great room to the wide staircase. "There is a married couple who will be serving us while we are here, Marta and Ahmed."
Servants. Christine's mind boggled at the idea. But then again, Erik does seem to be a wealthy, powerful man, she thought as she ascended the stairs at his side. There is so much I don't know about this man who is my husband. So much I don't know about myself, she thought with a resigned sigh.
Erik turned and looked at her sharply, concerned at her heavy sigh, "Are you feeling unwell?" he asked. He would not want her to have a relapse due to the long trip..
"No, just tired I suppose," she replied, looking about the second floor. "This is amazing."
Erik, still concerned, watched her closely. "I think that you should lie down before Marta serves dinner," he said more in the form of an order than a suggestion.
Christine relented, realizing that she was indeed feeling the effects of the trip. "All right, if you could show me to my room."
Erik paused. The house did not have two bedrooms. When he had this house built, he only anticipated that it would be a getaway home for him and Christine. Thus, he had not added an additional bedroom. "This way," he said, pointing towards the large double doors at the end of the long hallway.
Christine preceded him into the large bedroom that was decorated in a Middle Eastern style. "Oh Erik, it is so beautiful," she said, crossing the room to the large bed and reverently caressing the exotic silk bed coverings.
Erik was suffused with instant heat remembering Christine spread welcomingly across the very same silk she was now so lovingly caressing. "Yes, incredibly beautiful," he said with a gruffness that caused Christine to look up sharply.
Christine drew in a shocked breath at the look of heated desire in Erik's eyes before he quickly averted his gaze.
"The bathroom is through there," he said stiltedly as he walked back to the bedroom entrance, needing to put some distance between him and Christine. "There should be some clothing and personal items for you as well."
Christine watched him try to hide his pain. "Erik," she called out to forestall him from leaving.
Unable to look at her for fear of letting her discover how much he needed her, he merely looked down at the thick Persian carpet. "Is there something else I can get for you?"
"No, I just wanted to say thank you," she said as she watched his tense frame.
Nodding, Erik walked out of the room and quietly shut the door, feeling as though he was leaving the other half of himself behind.
Mike Crepinski took in the bloody scene before him with a warning bell ringing in his experienced investigator's mind. Something isn't quite right here. "John," he called to his friend and former partner.
John frowned as he approached Mike. "You feel it too, don't you?" John asked as he studied the positions of the two bodies.
Releasing a sigh, Mike leaned down to better view the gunshot wound to Lela Myers. "It looks like a textbook murder-suicide," he said as he donned a pair of latex gloves.
"Too textbook if you ask me," John offered his own opinion gravely.
Nodding his head in agreement, Mike's instincts were telling him that what they were viewing was the work of experienced professionals. Highly paid professionals, he thought with a feeling of apprehension. "Is Mansart and his wife in a safe place?" he asked with a sense of foreboding.
"Yes, but I think that I need to get over there myself," John said, feeling real danger for his boss and his wife.
"I can't offer you any backup on this, John," Mike informed his partner, since the bureau was already after him to close out this case.
"I know. Don't worry, Mike, I'll handle it from here," he said with a cold, confident commitment to the safety of his employer and his family.
Rising, Mike looked at his friend. "Watch your back. I think that this could be a very dangerous situation. I'll see if I can get a few more manhours so I can investigate this side of things a little more closely."
"Thanks Mike. I'll get some of my own men out here as well," John stated, taking in the perfectly staged crime scene again. Pulling out his cell phone, he walked out of the cabin for some much-needed privacy. "Nadir," he said into the mouthpiece as soon as his call was connected.
Nadir leaned back into his leather chair, "John, what did you find out?" he asked anxiously, needing as many facts as possible for his coming update with Erik.
"Both Carl and Lela Myers are dead, murder-suicide," John informed Nadir uneasily.
"Why do I get the impression that you are about to give me some bad news?" Nadir sighed wearily.
Releasing his own sigh, John began to walk briskly on the snowy Montana ground. "It's just a gut feeling that both Mike and I have about the crime scene."
"And what is this 'gut feeling' telling you?" Nadir asked, the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to rise.
"The setup was just too perfect," John said as he watched the sun begin to set against the mountainous backdrop. "It looks as though someone wanted us to believe that Carl killed his wife and then turned the gun on himself."
"But you think otherwise?" Nadir prompted Erik's chief of security.
Rubbing his jawline tiredly, John began to wonder what Christine could have ever done to warrant this type of deadly attention. "I think that someone wants Mrs. Mansart dead. I also think that the kidnapping was just a setup to make us think that the Myerses were acting alone. I don't think that money was the real motive behind any of this."
"What are you saying John!" Nadir all but yelled into the phone.
Shaking his head dejectedly, John tried to find words to convey the danger that the Mansarts were facing. "I'm saying that this is far from over. I'm saying that someone with deep pockets and connections has hired professionals to eliminate Mrs. Mansart," John said plainly, not sugarcoating his conclusions. "What I am saying, Nadir, is that Mrs. Mansart is still very much a target."
Nadir closed his eyes as he digested John's ominous news. "What do you need?" he asked firmly after he took a short moment to collect himself.
"I'll need to hire about fifteen more men. I want to get over to Antalya as soon as possible. Make sure that Rob is en route as well," John instructed, wanting his best man available on site.
"Anything else?" Nadir questioned as he jotted down several notes.
"I'll take care of everything else," John said evasively, not wanting to further alarm Nadir with the amount of firepower he intended to acquire.
"All right, I had better get on a plane myself," he said, thinking aloud.
"No, I think that it would be better if you stayed in Manhattan to maintain a sense of normalcy," John shot back over the line.
"But surely Erik will need me with him," Nadir began, but John interrupted him.
"Listen to me, Nadir. We are dealing with trained professionals who more than likely are watching your every move. To go to Antalya now would only lead them to Mrs. Mansart."
A chill raced through Nadir as he came to grips with the true extent of the danger they were facing. "Are you sure that you can protect Erik and Christine?" he asked, overcome by overwhelming fear.
"Yes, Nadir, I will not let anything happen to either of them," John assured him with a steely confidence that surpassed all of Nadir's expectations.
"All right, I'll let Erik know that your on your way," Nadir said resignedly, knowing that it might as well be him to make this particular call.
"Nadir!" John said sharply to catch Nadir before he hung up.
"Yes?"
"Who knows that the Mansarts are in Antalya?" he asked, needing as much information as possible to assess the threat level.
"Myself and you of course. My assistant and Renee, Erik's assistant. Oh," Nadir said as if in afterthought, "Erik's pilot and his crew."
"Give Rob the full names of those crew members," John instructed. He would personally check out each and every one of those names for any hint of suspicious behavior.
"Consider it done. Anything else I can do from my end?"
"Just keep your eyes and ears open; let me know if anyone is acting strangely," John said as he retraced his steps towards the cabin. "Oh and Nadir," he began as he watched the bodies of the Myerses being loaded into long black bags. "Trust no one, not even Sarah."
Nadir frowned at the implication that his long-time faithful assistant could not be trusted. "John…" Nadir began in a slightly rebuking tone.
"No one, Nadir," John's firm voice interrupted Nadir. "One slip up could literally mean the difference between life and death."
Leaning back, Nadir resigned himself to the fact that John was the expert and that he would simply have to defer to his expertise. "All right, John."
"Good. I'll be in touch," John said ending the call as he joined Mike.
"You got a handle on this John?" Mike asked his former associate with a knowing look.
Nodding his head confidently, John returned Mike's look with a fierce look in his dark eyes. "Oh yeah, I've got it," his voice filled with uncompromising determination. No one was going to dare threaten someone on his watch.
Erik knocked lightly upon Christine's door. "Christine," he called out softly, careful not to alarm her in her fragile state. Not hearing her answer, he turned the knob and opened the door to peer into the darkened room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw that she was still lying on the bed, her wavy chestnut hair adorning the vibrant pink silk pillowcase with her exquisite face relaxed in peaceful sleep. His breath caught in his throat at the sheer beauty of her, his Christine, his wife. Crossing the room, he sank to his knees beside her. Lifting a shaking hand, he reached out and took one of her wayward tresses into his hand, savoring the softness that he remembered so achingly. Bending down to inhale the intoxicating fragrance that was hers alone he brought her hair to his lips in a kiss of longing. Oh Christine, his heart cried out in pain, please learn to love me again.
Christine felt the strangest sensation of someone watching her. Opening her eyes, she saw that Erik was kissing her hair with such a pained expression that her heart gave a lurch of answering pain. Reaching up, she caressed the unmasked side of his face, causing him to stiffen in surprise.
Turning his face into her hand he kissed her palm, savoring her acceptance if only for this one brief moment in time.
"Erik," Christine whispered with a slightly bemused expression. "I…" her voice trailed off as she met his passion-filled gaze.
Erik, seeing the confusion on her face, cursed himself for his uncontrollable need for her touch. "Forgive me," he said softly, releasing her to rise to his feet.
Christine stared up at him, feeling a disappointment that she couldn't quite explain. Sitting up on the bed, she looked at his closed expression, wondering what he was thinking as he avoided her gaze. Standing, she reached out and grasped his hand. "Erik," she called to him gently.
Erik drew in a sharp breath at her unexpected touch. Looking down, he was stunned to see that she didn't seem to fear him. "Christine," he whispered brokenly.
Lifting her hand, she gently touched her fingers to his perfect lips to quiet his words. Stepping up towards him, she replaced her fingertips with her lips, slowly offering him a sweet, gentle kiss.
Erik felt his heart stop at her kiss. Gently pulling her into his embrace, he returned her kiss with a tenderness that reached down and touched her very soul.
Giving herself up to Erik's kiss, she felt as if she was with the one person whom she could trust. She felt safe; she felt loved.
Erik lifted his head and stared down at her with his eyes holding all of his emotions. "Christine," he said simply, the single word being all he needed.
Christine leaned her head upon his strong chest, enjoying the new closeness with this man who was her husband.
How long he held her there to him he did not know, but he did know that with her one simple kiss, she had opened the door to the possibility of their future. Feeling as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he held her back so he could look down at her beautiful face. "Marta has dinner ready," he said in a light voice that brought an instant smile to her lips.
"Well then, I suppose we shouldn't keep her waiting," Christine said, her smile broadening. Together they exited the room, and made their way towards the staircase arm in arm, at last together.