Angel Of Love

ANGEL OF LOVE
PART TWO


Louisa stared at the angry man before her and her hand flew to her throat in fright as she recognised the Phantom Of The Opera, or so people had named him. She had expected something very different from this strong, vital man who had such a commanding and powerful presence.
Instead of fleeing in terror she felt her fright ebb away as her eyes drifted over his naked torso, drinking in the broad chest and strong arms. Obviously, he had got these from clambering around in the Opera House’s dark shadows.
He was quite beautiful she decided and stepped forward so he could see her better. “My name is Louisa, monsieur. Are you the Opera Ghost everyone talks about?”
“Insolent girl!” the Phantom spat angrily as he began to stride towards her, “What business is it of yours who I am? I am not answerable to some gypsy brat taken in from the street!”
Louisa paused for a moment as she registered what he had said. So he knew of her, how interesting. By this time he was almost upon her and she fought the urge to bolt back down the passage but instead she bent to put the candelabra she was carrying on the floor. When she straightened up she squared her shoulders and faced the Phantom head on as he stopped in front of her, icy blue eyes boring into hers.
“No, you’re not answerable to me,” she told him, hiding her smile at his surprised expression, “However, there is no need to be so angry or to insult me. I stumbled upon this place by accident and meant no disrespect.”
The Phantom scowled at her but she could see the anger slipping away slightly. He was looking at her appraisingly and she became self conscious when his eyes lingered on her breasts and she almost blushed when she realised she had forgotten to fasten her buttons back up when she had loosened a couple of them earlier whilst dancing.
“You play beautifully. Was that your own composition? I have never heard it before.”
He still scowled at her but she could see that her interest had struck a chord inside of him and he answered grudgingly although she still sensed the anger simmering beneath the surface.
“It’s something I’m working on. No one was supposed to hear it until it was finished!” This last he said almost accusingly.
“Then I feel truly honoured to have heard it first!” she replied with a smile.
Slipping around him she made her way to the organ that stood surrounded by candelabras looking at all the gaudy and beautiful things he had decorated his home with.
“What is your name?” she asked him, glancing back to see if he had followed her but he still stood where she had been, watching her like a wolf watching a strange new prey.
She didn’t think he would answer but after a few moments he did and she gave him a sunny smile.
“Erik,” she repeated, “I like that! Much better than Phantom anyway!”
Erik watched her as she walked amongst his things, not touching anything. When he had first seen her he had been furious someone had been able to sneak into his home without him hearing but when she had stood her ground and reminded him of his manners he had become slightly intrigued.
She was right in thinking he knew of her. Madame Giry had told him of the gypsy girl abandoned by her parents to survive on the streets and who had come begging for work at the Opera House. She had been taken in and put to work as cleaner, seamstress, prop maker or anything else that could be thought of. She rarely spoke but was a good worker and so was allowed to stay.
No one knew of her dancing abilities, but Erik did. He had seen her dance when she thought nobody could see her, usually late at night or early in the morning when no one was about. No one except him.
He had never seen dancing like hers. It was nothing like the demure dancing of the ballet girls, this dancing was wild and passionate. Obviously something learned from her gypsy upbringing. He enjoyed the way her body writhed and moved while her hair spun around her like a silken shawl. All her feelings came out when she danced he had come to realise and there were days when she never danced at all, these were the days when she would cry alone, hidden away in a dark corner.
Now watching her he was more than a little curious but could not bring himself to speak civilly. He was still too shaken that someone had found him.
Louisa was almost at the organ when she spoke again, “Are you the one teaching Christine?” She carried on towards the instrument unaware that his anger had flared up again and he was bounding towards her. Only when her arm was grabbed painfully and she was spun around to face him did she realise her danger.
“What do you know of this?” he demanded, holding her tightly by both arms now. Shaking her when she remained silent he demanded, “Answer me!”
Louisa looked up into his face so close to hers now that she could feel his breath on her face. His grip on her arms was painful and she winced at the pressure but managed to keep her voice steady.
“You’re not the only one who sneaks about in the shadows,” she told him, “I followed Christine one night out of curiosity, I recognised your voice from then.”
Erik searched her face for any kind of deceit but he could tell she was telling the truth. He eased his grip a little but didn’t let go of her completely. It had been such a long time since he had even held a woman this close and he was suddenly loath to let her go. Looking down into her face he could see her fear but he could also sense her attraction towards him and this above all else began to arouse him.
His mouth came down on hers and he wrapped his arms around her back to press her tight against him. Louisa tried to struggle but he was too strong and his mouth on hers was making her shiver all over and she parted her lips as his tongue slid inside.
She could feel how aroused he was and she moaned slightly as her own excitement grew, running her hands over the bare skin of his back and shoulders.
Abruptly he pushed her away from him and she cried out at the loss. Looking at him he was watching her with a strange mix of need and wariness but in the next instant his expression became controlled. Turning away from her he retrieved a white shirt from the chair in front of the organ and began to put it on.
“Come,” he said without looking at her, “I will take you back. Do not come here again.”