Page 40 of Angel's Kiss
“No, it’s fine. I’m just not used to compliments. Like that. From you. But it’s not unwelcome.” She needed to stop talking or she was going to say something stupid.
“I don’t really know how to do this,” Erik confessed, holding her gaze. “Be a—”
“A suitor?”
He shook his head with a soft laugh. “Aperson,” he countered. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve tried.”
“You’re doing well enough,” Christine muttered. She was done now and there was no need to be so close to him. Yet she didn’t move.
“I have a good teacher,” Erik replied with warmth she so rarely heard from him, and it stoked the fire in her core. “She’s quite remarkable.”
“So is her teacher,” Christine whispered back, suddenly so aware of how close her face was to his mask and the way was looking at her mouth.Fuck.
“Christine.” There was just enough darkness and danger in his voice to jostle her back to reality and she sat back, then stood up for good measure.
“I – I wish you had coffee. It would be nice after a night like that,” she declared, steadfastly ignoring whatever kind of annoyed or confused look Erik was giving her. “And I don’t need a lecture on it being bad for my voice. It’s not like I’m singing tonight.”
“Why would you say that?”
“You may have forgotten with all the uproar,” Christine said as she turned, annoyed at his flippant tone. “But I am no longer employed in your opera,Monsieur le Fantôme.”
“As it is my opera, I shall be the one to decide that. I promised the management that if Carlotta performs tonight, it will be a disaster.”
Christine gave a bitter laugh as she sat back down, this time on a chair a safe distance from Erik. Her blood heated for another reason now as she remembered the humiliations of the day before. “If only. I’d love to see that miserable bitch get a fraction of what she deserves.”
“Such venom. I like it. And I promise you, she will. I don’t make idle threats.” The way he said those words should have frightened her. But right now, it thrilled her and that alone was terrifying.
“I’ve never hated someone like this before,” Christine confessed.
“You haven’t known many lead sopranos then.” She shot Erik a look and he shrugged. “Don’t be afraid to hate her. Think of what she wanted those men to do to you.” Christine shuddered. “Like you said, she deserves what’s coming.”
“And what is that? Do you plan on telling me?”
“As soon as I come up with it, yes.” Erik took a sip of tea. “I think something public is in order, don’t you?”
“Show everyone in Paris what a loathsome toad she is,” Christine spat.
Erik cocked his head. “A toad?”
“It was something she said to me.” Erik’s eyes were hazy now, lost in some dangerous thought. “Why?”
“You’ve given me an idea... I don’t have to tell you the details if you’d like to remain innocent.” Erik held her gaze, the soft light of the parlor deepening the golden glow of his eyes. There was a fire there, as always, but today Christine felt it in her heart as well, as it tempered the raw metal of her rage and her hate into ruthless steel.
“Tell me.”
––––––––
“Is he back yet?” Raoulasked the valet as he came into the breakfast room. The man shook his head grimly.
“Why are you so eager to talk to Philippe?” Sabine asked from her place at the table, as she peered over the morning’s copy ofLe Monde. She sighed as she took Raoul in, as if she could see how his love had grown in the past day. “Her. Of course. You better not mean to ask him permission to marry that trollop.”
“I don’t want to ask permission to–” Raoul found himself blushing as only his sister could make him. “I have certain hopes and intentions, of course, but we’ve only just started to court and—”
“You’re courting now? I thought she wasn’t even seeing you.”
“No, we had supper yesterday, and it was sublime!” Raoul was only allowed a breath to recall what joy it had been to simply be with Christine again – as old friends, and now something more – before Sabine scoffed again.
“I’m sure she made you feel that way, the little minx,” Sabine muttered as the salon doors burst open and Philippe tumbled in, still in the clothes Raoul had seen him in the night before. Of course Antoine was with him, looking even worse for wear.
