Leaving her room, she went downstairs for breakfast. She had another three weeks of vacation. Determined to see as much of Paris as she could, she went sightseeing. She visited The Arc de Triomphe, which had been built to honour the men and women who had died fighting for France. She visited the Eiffel Tower. She toured Notre Dame, which had taken 170 years to build, walked around The Pantheon, which had been built as a church by Louis XV, but was now the final resting place of such notable French thinkers as Rousseau, Voltaire, Hugo and Zola, as well as scientists Pierre and Marie Curie. Amazing places, all of them, but no matter where she was, Christie’s thoughts were on Erik. With every moment apart, the realization grew that she had fallen in love with him – with his kindness, his tenderness, the sound of his voice, his rare smiles and laughter.

  Though they had never spoken the words, she was certain that he loved her in return. But was love enough? Could she go on without him? Did she want to?

  She went to the theatre that night and every night for the next week, hoping he would seek her out. She scanned the balconies, the dark corners, the shadows, but there was no sign of him.

  On her last night in Paris, she hid in one of the bathrooms in the theatre again, then spent two hours wandering the corridors trying to find the door that led to his lair. She called his name, but to no avail.

  She spent a miserable night sleeping in one of the seats. In the morning, she asked a startled member of the cleaning crew to let her out.

  Defeated, she returned to the hotel, Packed her bags and took the next flight home. She moped for days, her heart heavy with despair.

  Christie was glad when school started. She’d spent the week before getting her classroom ready eager for the new year, eager for anything to take her mind off her Phantom. But even the excitement of a new year failed to lift her spirits.

  Her steps were heavy when she returned home after the first day of school. She had once found joy in teaching. Where had it gone?

  She was unlocking the front door when she felt a rush of wind and then, to her astonishment, Erik appeared beside her.

  “Christie.” Just her name, but it held a wealth of emotion. “Erik! How did you find me?”

  “Your blood,” he murmured, his dark gaze searching her face. “It led me to you.”

  “I didn’t think you ever left the opera house.”

  “I would risk anything to see you again.”

  “I missed you too,” she said and, taking him by the hand. She drew him into the house and shut the door. “I tried to find you.”

  “I know.”

  “Why did you hide from me?”

  He shrugged; an elegant shifting of one shoulder. “I thought it best to let you go, but I realized my life has no meaning without you. And so I came here, to ask you to be my Christine for always. Will you share my love, Christie, be part of my life?”

  She knew what he was asking. Being a vampire had once seemed repulsive; now it would open the door to an eternity with the man she loved.

  With a nod, she went into his embrace. No words were necessary. Gazing up into his dark eyes, she canted her head to the side, granting him access to her throat.

  Murmuring her name, the Phantom enfolded his Christine in his arms and, with one sweet kiss, he joined their lives together, forever.

 


 

  Amanda Ashley, The Music of the Night

  (Series: # )

 

 


 

 
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