His fingers ran along the scar on his cheek and I saw the heartbroken young boy who’d had far too much pain for far too long. Was I now adding to that pain and heartache?

  “I can talk to Aaron tomorrow,” I finally said.

  “To what end? Is Aaron so madly in love with you that he’d change Rupert’s words to suit you?” He chuckled, a sound completely bereft of amusement or joy. “The depiction is precisely as he would have it, precisely as biased as if he’d written it himself.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?” I reached for the hand that still worked over his scars. “I hate to see you like this, Eric. I don’t want this show to bring you more pain.” I sat beside him on the piano bench and he stared long and hard at the piano keys before bringing his gaze to me.

  “After all these years, I thought I’d rid myself of the pain of those days with Kristine. Until you came here tonight and sang those lyrics that sting… I hadn’t realized how affected I still was.”

  “I’ll talk to Aaron,” I said with forceful determination. My heart was breaking for Eric and I couldn’t just sit by and watch him be destroyed just for the sake of entertaining the masses. “I’ll tell him that I’ll quit the show if he doesn’t make some changes. Or better yet, when the time comes to take the stage, I’ll replace the unfavorable lyrics. We can work together and alter the passages that disturb you, that criticize you.”

  Placing his hand over mine, he gazed hungrily at my lips. “I appreciate your attempt. It touches me greatly to see you’d be willing to take such a risk, but it would be in vain. While you might control the words you choose to sing, these vile concepts are spread throughout the entire opera. Others in the company will be singing the words Rupert wrote; right or wrong. Do you propose convincing them all to alter the words they sing? And based on what?”

  “Okay you’re right.” I reached up to caress his cheek, where the scarred used to be. “I’ll do whatever you want, Eric.”

  In that moment I realized just how taken in Kristine must have been. No matter how many times I told myself I had to cut ties with him, my need to be with him was always there; always strong.

  With my heart heavy with longing and desire, I leaned into him and kissed his lips. He seemed reluctant at first, as though unsure of my motives. His breathing was short and sharp and his lips stiff and unwilling. I pressed closer, covering his mouth with my own.

  A tired sigh escaped him.

  A century of pain and abandon; a lifetime of heartache and betrayal weighed so heavily on him, I could feel it in his lips, in the hesitant embrace as he brought his hand around my waist.

  I brought my tongue out to brush along his and I felt the tension leave his body as he released himself to me. Caught up in the passion, in the heat and pleasure of his kiss, I rose and led him to his bedroom.

  “Annette, what are you…?”

  “Hush, Eric.” We reached the foot of his bed and I brought my finger up to his lips, partially to physically stop his argument and partially to feel the softness of his lips against my finger. “So soft. I can’t imagine anyone would ever want to truly hurt you.” I laid a soft kiss on his mouth. “I want to help you. I want to make you forget all the pain you’ve suffered.”

  Wrapping his arms around me, I sense his desire to protect me just as much as his desire to have me.

  My hands blazed a trail over his skin as I unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. He was magnificent and strong. So beautiful, yet so vulnerable.

  Unaccustomed to being so bold and taking such initiatives, I was surprised by my complete lack of inhibitions. My body took over and moved against Eric’s with a will of its own. It had been waiting long enough, longing for him and dreaming of him, yet being so constantly hindered by the logical thoughts that pushed me to be a good girl.

  “Wait, Annette,” Eric said. His voice was hushed and his eyes hooded.

  That look in his eyes… waiting was the last thing he really wanted me to do.

  Grinning, I pulled away and tugged my sweater up over my head. I was rewarded with a hungry lick of his lips as Eric dropped his gaze to my breasts. He brought his fingers to my bra strap and fingered the length of fabric, his skin burning mine as he reached the pink lace flower between my breasts.

  Dizzy with wanting him, with the raging urges my body no longer wanted to fight, I worked my way out of my jeans then help him out of his.

  He chuckled, and this time there was a distinctive sound of pure amusement and pleasure.

  I reached for him and pushed him onto the bed. Straddling him, I was happy to see the desire I felt reflected in his gaze.

  “You’re beautiful, Annette.” He let his hands roam up my thighs over my waist and up along the side of my breast to my collar bone. “I’ve longed to touch you, to have you for my own.”

  “I’m all yours.”

  Chapter 14

  “Absolutely not,” Aaron fumed. He let the heavy binder, complete with every note he’d taken about Rupert’s The Traitor, fall heavily to his desk.

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little hard headed?” I argued. “Won’t you even take a look at the changes I’d like to make?”

  “Annette, this opera is perfect as it is. I’ve gone through it a dozen times and it is the perfect blend of love, betrayal and revenge.”

  “Aaron, this piece of work is spiteful and mean. It’s incredibly insensitive.”

  “Insensitive? Insensitive to what? I’ve seen dozens of operas that are harsh. This very opera house has seen many ugly, bloody and heartbreaking operas.” He turned to me suddenly. He’d been all business since I’d entered his office, prepared to listen to me as I asked to discuss a few minor changes to the opera. But now… “This has nothing to do with making a few changes just to soften this opera. You want to make these changes in order to protect him. Don’t you?”

  “I’m uncomfortable singing words that are so vile and…”

  “Liar.” He pounded his fist to the desk. “You yourself praised the writing, the intricacies of the plot, the depth of the characters. You said the words were poignant, gut wrenching and true to human nature.”

  “It was a first impression. Now that I’ve sung some of these songs over and over again…”

  “Admit it, Annette. The only reason you came to see me this morning is so that I can make changes that will make Eric look better. Well, it’s out of the question. Rupert wrote it like this, it’s been approved by everyone and it will go on as is. Is that clear?”

  “The only reason you're refusing me is because of Eric.”

  “Damn right, it’s because of him. Do you realize what you’re asking of me, Annette? You're not the only one singing in this production. Carmen, Penny and Gwen have all been working hard on songs that are less than complimentary towards this phantom.”

  I swallowed my disappointment and turned to leave.

  “Annette,” he called.

  “You’re just angry because I moved out of your place. You're being spiteful.”

  “No.” His voice softened and he seemed apologetic, though no apology came. “Yes, I’ll admit I’m disappointed and a bit hurt that you insisted on leaving, but that’s not the reason I’m turning you down. Even if I could, I probably wouldn’t change a word if it was just to please Eric, but the truth is that I can’t, not without pushing the opening date back. It’s not just a matter of changing a few words here and there. It would require a re-working of the plot.”

  I glanced down at the pages I’d brought. I’d spent half the night going over it, making changes that would please Eric but would need considerable more changes in order to make it work. “I understand your position, Aaron. Thanks for hearing me out.” I turned to walk out.

  “While you're here,” Aaron said. “I wanted to let you know you’ll have a new director, Monte Hightower. He’s already very excited about working with us… with you. He’s already out there getting acquainted with everyone. I’ll go out and introduce you. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

  He led me out of his office and toward the main stage, but a loud clatter followed with a series of louder shrieks, stopped us then spurted us into a run.

  “What’s going on?” Aaron shouted as he entered the auditorium.

  Following the gaze of the stunned cast members, we both turned to see the huge chandelier that had hung overhead smashed into pieces on the floor.

  “No,” I let out softly. I couldn’t bear the thought of going through this again. Instinctively I reached for the crucifix at my neck, seeking comfort and protection.

  “Damn it,” Aaron let out. “I told them to make sure that thing was secure. Do they know how much a chandelier like that costs?”

  “Is anybody hurt?” I asked, trying to counter Aaron’s cold assessment of the situation.

  It was enough to bring him to his senses. “Yes, is everyone all right?”

  “We’re scared out of our wits, but thankfully no one was standing near it,” Carmen said.

  I saw the fear in Aaron’s eyes, the questions. Though he accused a weakness in the way the chandelier had been hung, I knew he considered the same thing as I; Kristine.

  My fingers remained on my crucifix. It had saved me from Kristine once, had taken me out of her possessive clutches when Eric had slipped it back around my neck.

  A shiver ran through me as I feared my cross may not be enough to save me from her this time. As I scanned the cast members and crew standing around staring at the shattered chandelier, I saw the fear in their eyes. Were any of them safe?

  I wanted to deny that Kristine could be so ruthless as to harm or kill any of them in order to get what she wanted, but I couldn’t allow myself to be so naïve.

  Chace, I suddenly thought. I’d crossed his path when I’d arrived, but couldn’t spot him. Kristine had attempted to ruin him once. Would she try it again?

  Chapter 15

  That night I headed to Eric’s home with far too much on my mind. The mystery surrounding the ruined chandelier had raised a lot of questions, and despite a lot of speculation on the part of those who were there, and a few vague theories Aaron and I discussed, in the end, we had no concrete answers.

  As I got closer and closer to the door that would lead me to Eric, thoughts of Aaron, Kristine and the chandelier disappeared. A small heated smile made its way to my lips at the thought of Eric. While asking him about the haunting of the Opera House and Kristine’s part in all of it had brought me to Eric’s, I knew my main motive for hurrying to see him had nothing to do with the goings on at the Opera House. It had more to do with the passionate night I’d spent with him the night before.

  He’d touched me in ways I’d never imagined a man could touch a woman; in ways I never knew could be so thrilling.

  “I love you,” he’d said as he’d taken full possession of my body.

  Unable to verbally respond, I’d simply let my body do the talking, urging him deeper inside, closer to my soul, closer to my heart.

  My body still tingled with the lingering effects of those heated moments and with the anticipation of more. I wanted him again.

  The moment I entered his home, music and opera were of little importance. And Kristine’s haunting… they were the last thing on my mind. I wanted Eric, right there, right that minute.

  And he didn’t bother to argue the fact. Within seconds and with few words spoken between us, we’d stripped out of our clothes and didn’t even bother finding our way to his bedroom.

  The kitchen table suited us just fine as we clawed at each other with urgency and heated desire.

  When we finally came up for air a few hours later, I found myself cradled in his arms, and I never wanted to leave. I breathed in the scent of him, manly and husky. His skin glowed with perspiration, the moonlight highlighting the curves and contours of his muscular build.

  How delicious he was.

  “You certainly seemed happy to see me,” he said with a pleased grin.

  “I admit, you have an addictive quality about you, but don’t get too cocky,” I teased.

  “Never.” He pulled me into his arms. “I’m far too pleased to be with you to risk taking you for granted. I was thrilled when you arrived directly from the Opera House. I hadn’t thought you’d want to see me again.”

  I propped myself up on an elbow to get a better look at him. “I had to see you again, Eric. You know that.”

  “I know,” he said solemnly, almost reverently.

  “After last night, Eric…I don’t think I can stay away from you.”

  He reached out to hold my hands in his. “I’d never thought we’d get this close.”

  Biting my lower lip, I nodded and thought back to the wanton woman who’d emerged out of nowhere. She’d been fighting to emerge for a while now, constantly seeking a touch, a kiss, a caress. “It must be something in the New York water. Believe it or not, I’ve always been pretty tame… boring actually. The few boys I dated with in high school never even got to first base.” I laughed softly. “I think I was fifteen when I first kissed a boy.”

  Eric chuckled and pulled me back into his arms. “I’m kind of happy to hear that. I think it makes last night, and tonight all the more special and important. After you left this morning, I was worried you might regret it. I regretted my own lack of control, but you were impossible to resist.”

  “I did come on pretty strong. I’d like to say I don’t know what got into me, but truth is I just wanted to get close to you.”

  He kissed me. “I like the fact that you don’t just come around here to discuss and practice your singing…and the gossip of the Opera House. Speaking of which…”

  His jaw instantly tightened and his eyes rolled back with open irritation.

  “I spoke to Aaron and, I’m sorry, but there’s no way of changing any of the words… not one.”

  “Are you really surprised?”

  “No,” I muttered softly. “I guess not. But it’s not what you think, Eric. It’s not a simple matter of turning down your request. It’s just the enormity of the tasks… the complications involved in making such changes to the storyline.”

  He let out a resigned huff and grumbled, “So he’ll go on and produce such a batch of lies.”

  “There’s something else I wanted to tell you. I think Kristine has come back to the Opera House… and she’s causing havoc just like the last time.”

  “What makes you say that?” He seemed suddenly interested, thought reservedly so.

  “Things have started happening again. This afternoon the huge chandelier, the one that had just been safely secured to the ceiling again, came crashing to the floor while some cast members were rehearsing. Fortunately, no one was standing beneath it at the time, but still…. It shook everyone quite a bit.”

  “Perhaps this was intended as a response to Aaron’s unwillingness to change the wording of the opera.”

  I gasped. The chandelier did, indeed, crash right after my meeting with Aaron, right after he refused my proposed changes. “But why would Kristine want to have those changes made? The opera flatters her as it is. It makes no sense.”

  “And what makes you think Kristine is behind it? Perhaps there’s some other cause.”

  “What do you mean? Like another phantom?”

  “Have you not considered the possibilities?”

  “Eric…” I choked on his name as his words sunk in.

  “The opera, this Traitor… it’s absolutely scandalous, even more than you realize. Not many want this story to be told. Remember, my dear and innocent Annette, Rupert was an Aragon and when all this happened, the Aragon name was dragged through the muck and temporarily tarnished. It took a while before the family was able to bring back and degree of honor to the name.

  Chapter 16

  Shaken up but determined to go on, I headed to the auditorium. We were working on the final scene, the murder scene. Everyone was tense and on edge, but it had nothing to do with the content of the scene.

  “All right,” Monte called out with a clap of his hands. The young and handsome director called the entire cast in for a meeting. Standing center stage, he gazed out at the auditorium where the cast and crew awaited.

  “I don’t know where they got him from,” Carmen commented in a lusty whisper, “but I think I’m going to love working on this opera, regardless of all the weird things that have been going on.”

  “He is kinda handsome isn’t he?” Gwen added. “But far too old for you. He’d be more attracted to a mature woman like me.”

  “Too old? The guy’s barely thirty,” Carmen argued. “Besides, you always said you had a weakness for blondes. That guy’s hair is as dark as it gets.”

  “Yeah, but I love those green eyes. It makes up for the dark hair.”

  I glared at them both and they quieted down.

  “I’m happy to see you could all make it,” Monte said in a strong, commanding voice. “We still have a lot of work to get through, but I know a few of you are a little concerned about the odd occurrences.”

  “Someone scribbling, ‘Many may die if The Traitor opens,’ is not an odd occurrence,” a crew member argued. “It’s a death threat.”

  Everyone spoke at the same time, calling out their concerns and fears.

  “Please,” Monte called out with assurance. “We cannot allow ourselves to lose our heads over such a prank. This isn’t the first time an opening night has met with idle threats, and little ever came of those threats. Let’s remain level headed and do what needs to be done.”

  “What if the prankster is still here?” someone called out.

  “The police have already combed through the entire men’s room where the message was found. Whoever decided to have a laugh at our expense, or attempt to close down this show because they found it controversial will be apprehended. On the bright side, this kind of scandal always makes for good paper and the word will spread like wildfire that our show is about to open. Ticket sales have already gone up. So…” He took a step back and gestured an invitation to the stage with his hand. “If you’ll all take your places, I think we’re in for a splendid rehearsal.”