Title: Autumn Rain (1/8)
Author: Kendra
Rating: PG-NC17
Summary: A young woman arrives in Paris in search of freedom.
Archive: I don't know
Disclaimer: I certainly don't own this as well.
Notes: I haven't a clue about MR, but it does have Christian. That's all that matters. There are major, major liberties taken with this fic, so be prepared. Forgive the mistakes for I'm sure I missed things as usual. I debated if I should even post this, it's so hard writing something totally new...sheesh!

The cobblestone streets glistened like ice upon a shallow pond in the late evening sun, as a gentle rain continued to fall. The city, which claimed to never sleep, did not seem to be living up to its reputation. For the hustle and bustle of people was nearly non-existent, as the horse drawn carriage made its way along the small cluttered side streets to its destination on the outskirts of the city. The horse's hooves echoed loudly as the carriage maneuvered the long, desolate roads while the buildings slowly became sparse in their existence as it neared the cemetery.

"Please, Monsieur, will you wait for me?" The young woman requested when the covered carriage stopped at the gleaming, wrought iron gates while the horse nervously whickered in protest. "I will make it worth your trouble," she softly interjected after seeing the reluctance in his eyes.

"Oui," the burly, dark-haired driver grunted in agreement, as he pulled on the reins to steady the uneasy draft horse.

"Merci," she replied as she stepped from the confines of the carriage, and slowly pulled the hood of her cloak about her head as the cool evening air seemed to seep deep into her bones.

With a slight hesitation to her first steps, the lady took a deep breath to calm her racing heart as she walked between the open iron gates. Controlled by great concentration, she began her quest as her eyes darted from row to row of what seemed to be a never-ending garden of stone.

The sound of her footsteps upon the crushed gravel path between the rows of the dead was almost soothing to her ears. For somewhere within the depths of her soul, it reminded her that she was still alive, even amongst the deceased.

What once was a soft evening rain, quickly became a downpour as the cloaked lady in blue continued unhindered as she pulled her wrap tightly to her body, and continued her search. The low rumble of distant thunder caught her unawares, making her jump in startled surprise, but she kept her gate steady upon regaining her composure.

"It has to be close," she uttered aloud as she took a deep breath and rounded yet another corner to begin her search upon the next row of stone vaults.

That was when she saw him. A lone figure standing before her, beneath the torrent of rain. He stood motionless before what looked like a black marble vault, which reeked of wealth from its simplistic and sleek beauty. The young, raven-haired man looked to be forlorn as he gazed to the marble before his feet. The pounding rain soaked through his topcoat and he wore no hat against the ravages of the weather. Surely the gentleman was drenched from head to toe as the water seeped to his skin. The drops of cool liquid pooled around his feet, while it dripped steadily off his clothing.

Whomever the young man had lost, he must have cherished dearly, the cloaked woman mused as she saw his fixed gaze and rounded shoulders as if he'd been crushed by life it self. She could only bite her bottom lip and continue to walk closer to the distraught gentleman, as her eyes continued their unrelenting quest for what seemed so elusive. Yet, with each footfall amongst the crushed white rocks, her eyes kept falling to the handsome man at every occasion. She was like the moth and he was her flame.

She fought every urge, which washed through her body to look to the black marble vault before the man, and not at the dark-haired man himself as she now stood beside him. Desperately she wished to see his face, but dared not intrude, for fear she wasn't sure if the grief she suspected to see upon his features would make her resolve shatter like glass. However, when her eyes caught sight of the intricately carved name upon the smooth, wet marble, she gasped aloud. What she had traveled so far to find, she had stumbled upon blindly.

"Satine?" She murmured as she stepped closer and leaned down to place her hand upon the blackness, but quickly pulled it away as if touching ice. The young man beside her momentarily forgotten, till she stood back up and felt his eyes burn upon her form.

"Who are you?" He questioned in a voice, which spoke of education and great wealth as she tentatively dared to glance upon his azure eyes. "Do you know, Satine?" He asked almost protectively, with the slightest hint of anger marred with apprehension etched within his words.

"My name is Rebecca," the brunette woman with the eyes of crystalline green softly replied as the gentlemen seemed to be searching her warm, gentle face with deep reverence.

She watched him curiously, as his rain drenched hair fell to his eyes and slowly sent small tendrils of water to cascade across his smooth cheeks, and drip tantalizingly from the classic cleft in his chin. She had seen handsome men before in her life, but there was something more about this man. When you looked into those amazing eyes, you glimpsed an old soul trapped within the body of youth.

"Rebecca? Do I know you?" He questioned as he continued to look upon the young beauty with the intensity of the summer sun.

"No, Monsieur, I do not believe we have ever met. I received word of my sister's death and traveled to Paris to...I have business to attend to," Rebecca stammered as she suddenly noticed the dark-haired man beside her take an unsteady step. Normally, such a movement by a mere stranger would set her guard upon her, but this man was different. Maybe it was because he grieved so outwardly for her sister.

His trembling hand inched toward the hood of her dark cloak before he suddenly pulled away as if stung by the flames of hell itself, and quickly clutched the lapel of his topcoat in such a death grip, his knuckles whitened. "I should have realized...you have that same spirit," he remarked, as Rebecca could tell he was deep within his private memories.

"And your name, Monsieur?"

The handsome gentleman jumped as if startled by her simple question before turning to the woman and smiling serenely. "Forgive my rudeness, Mademoiselle. My name is Christian," he replied as he took her delicate hand in his and brushed his lips against the back of her hand. "Again, forgive my rudeness," the handsome gentleman insisted as he reluctantly released her grasp.

"There is nothing to forgive," Rebecca soothed as the rain lifted, and she slowly drew back the hood of her cloak to reveal light brown tresses, which cascaded down her back in soft waves.

"You knew, Satine?" She commented as she nodded to the grave before her, then looked back to his haunted eyes.

"Yes...yes, I did...I knew her well," Christian confided with a wavering voice. "I loved her..."he whispered against the wind but the woman beside him heard his confession and caught her breath.

"You're the one...the poet," Rebecca suddenly exclaimed as she noted the shocked expression which shadowed his face. "Satine wrote to me once about the young man who could charm the angels themselves with his words."

"That is a lie!" He vehemently objected as Rebecca took an unconscious step backwards, as his startled words struck her unexpectedly. "My words were all lies...nonsense etched with the lunacy of decadence."

"That is not what I was told," she softly corrected as he stared harshly at her and raked a hand through his wet hair to brush it from his eyes.

"All lies, Mademoiselle, utterly and unabashedly lies. For that man no longer exists, and I dare say he never truly did," Christian coldly replied. "You are naive in the ways of life like I once were. Beware of this wondrous city called Paris, for what looks to be ecstasy is truly a sin, and will lead you to damnation. Do not be fooled, young Rebecca...if you do not heed my words on anything else. Do know this...leave here as quickly as you can," he insisted with a darkness that seemed to reach his tattered soul.

Rebecca could only stare at him in shocked disbelief as the quiet and grieving gentleman turned into something akin to sheer pain and brutality. What could have caused him to recede within his inner sanctum so completely? Satine raved his praises at his talent with words...but then again she had made no mention of her love for him either, but that was usually the case with Satine. This young man was in love with a ghost...the ghost of a person who touched his soul so completely that he lost sight of himself. How could Satine have destroyed such a bearer of light and beauty?

"I'm sorry?" Rebecca stammered after being brought out of her silent musings about the man before her, and only coming back to the present when his hand touched her sleeve.

"It will be dark soon, the cemetery is dangerous enough during daylight hours. You do not need to be here at night," Christian stated as he laced her arm between his and guided her away from their commonality...Satine's grave.

"I have a carriage waiting at the entrance. Would you like a ride to your home?" She asked as they slowly walked toward the front gates.

"You truly are naive of the ways in Paris. The carriage driver I dare say is long gone by now. Even he is leery of what comes out at night," the raven-haired gentleman laughed as she looked at him in confusion. Refusing to acknowledge that he might be correct, for surely the carriage was still there.

When the front gates came into view, her heart sank. There was no carriage, no driver; there was nothing except her few belongings that were packed neatly into her baggage, which sat along the side of the road getting soaked in the run-off from the rains.

"Damn, fool," she uttered under her breath as Christian's head turned in her direction upon hearing her words. He couldn't suppress his first real chuckle of amusement in months at seeing this proper young lady lose her temper.

"Who is the fool? Yourself or that ass of a driver?" Christian mused aloud as he picked up her belongings and walked arm in arm with her down the darkening street. The lamplighters didn't bother with this part of town, so the streets only illumination was from the smattering of moonlight that would sneak from behind the stormy night skies.

"Obviously, I am the greater fool," Rebecca mumbled as they strolled and he couldn't help but grin at her confession.

"Do you have some place to stay while in Paris?" He questioned with concern and was rather confident that she did not.

"I did not have time to find a room," she admitted as he just nodded his head in mute understanding.

"You will not find one at this time of evening that will be suitable for you and your...needs," he said aloud as she cocked her head to the side to look at him in confusion.

"Needs?"

"Trust me on this, Rebecca. There are many things you must learn about Paris to survive, even during a brief visit. You may stay with me tonight," he offered as she looked at him in shock.

"I will sleep on the floor, you have my word. In the morning, I will take you to someone who will watch out for you and not think you're of...the pleasuring kind," Christian insisted as the brunette's mouth dropped in disbelief and he frowned upon noticing her expression. "You do not know the entire story of many things, do you?" He questioned, but honestly did not expect an answer as her silence only confirmed his suspicion.

Rebecca stood before the window in her small room and glanced down upon the empty, moonlit street below. She absently traced abstract patterns along the small, individual panes of glass before her, as the draftiness of the cold fall night seeped between the cracks of the windowsill.

She had been in Paris for over a month and had gotten no closer to finding her sister's promised money than the day she first stepped off the boat. Satine had always told her sister that if anything were to occur to her to suddenly end her life, Rebecca should come to Paris and lay claim to her finances. Maybe she had waited too long to come to Paris, Rebecca wondered. But it had taken weeks to gather the money for the trip to France and to devise a plan to make her betrothed and his family believe she was elsewhere.

With a deep sigh of frustration, the young woman tightly wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. What little funds she had left would see her through three more days. If she were lucky, possibly a week if she could dodge Madame Blanc, the old woman who ran the boarding house Christian had found for her to live in.

"Christian," she softly whispered before padding across the room to the brass bed and crawling beneath the covers once more. Rebecca sank beneath the worn sheets and huge quilt to huddle for warmth as she thought about the handsome, raven-haired young man who had unexpectedly entered her life.

It had been a week since she'd seen Christian and she missed him dearly with each passing day. From the moment their paths crossed in the cemetery, to that first night in Paris when he had taken her back to his room and behaved like a true gentleman and slept on the floor, he had always been there for her.

That is, until a week ago, when he abruptly pulled away. Or so it seemed to the young woman as she tried desperately to keep warm. Without warning, Christian had left a note with Madame Blanc, sending his regrets at not being able to meet with her one day. The note of avoidance had arrived daily since that first time. Until two days ago when Madame Blanc just sadly glanced at Rebecca and insisted that the handsome, dark-haired gentleman had never showed. Being cast aside with proper etiquette was bad enough. However, being cast adrift without word one and no explanation nearly broke her heart, for Christian was her only friend on these foreign shores.

In the short amount of time that the brunette had known Christian, she'd felt comfortable around him and had quickly grown to enjoy his presence immensely. Even to the point of looking forward to their time together speaking of everything from Satine, to the day's weather, with great joy as she cherishing every second.

Christian made her feel alive and cared for like no other in her life had ever done. "Odd," Rebecca mused aloud as she tossed to her side restlessly while trying to find sleep. Yes, very odd she thought once more. For the gentleman had been grieving for months over her sister and had lost so much of his life, so much of himself in that amount of time. Yet, when they were together, he literally shouted youthful lust for life and seemed to thrive upon her company. Quite a conundrum of emotions and actions this man possessed.

How dearly she missed him, she confessed to herself with an aching heart. She even missed his soulful laughter at her odd jokes or numerous faux pas. Every night over the past three days had been the same. Rebecca spent forever replaying every word, every action, and every reaction over and over in her mind hoping to possibly find some clue as to where she wronged the man. For Christian to have shut her out so suddenly, surely she must have said or done something most grievous. If only she could figure out what it had been, for she might be able to rectify the situation.

~~*~~

"Christian, please. If you're in there I need to speak with you," Rebecca nearly pleaded as she stood outside the door to his room. "Please Christian, it's important. I need your advice and possibly your help."

There was no sound coming from within the four walls of his room as she tried to stop the tears, which threatened to come, as she despondently leaned her forehead against the door. "What did I do? How did I hurt you?" she whispered aloud. "I just want to talk…" Rebecca muttered in pure pain before angrily kicking the door with the toe of her boot.

She took a deep shuddering breath before finally straightening and hurriedly leaving the small, dimly lit hallway as sobs of utter anguish wracked her soul. Deep down she knew he was in the room listening to every word, every plea. She could hear him walking about before she knocked on the door and told him who it was.

~~*~~

Christian sat at the small table placed before the window and ran his hands wearily through his dark hair. The anguish and hurt he felt in Rebecca's voice nearly undid him as she stood on the other side of the locked door wishing only to speak to him. He stared out the window and watched till he finally saw her cloaked figure stare up at his third floor room from the street below, before watching her turn and race down the road.

"It's for the best," he stated aloud before standing up and pacing the small length of the room.

He had thought long and hard about his actions of late. Though it may hurt Rebecca now, it was for her own good if he kept as far away as possible. For he was thinking of her more and more daily, and had suddenly realized one evening over a week ago, that he was falling in love with the young beauty and he could not let that happen. It was for the best, he truly felt that all he could bring her was misery.

"Forgive me, Becca," Christian whispered, as he couldn't forget her tear streaked face while she glanced up to his window just seconds earlier. She did nothing wrong, that must be why his soul felt as if it had gone cold and black once more. But he could not allow himself to love her or lull her into thinking she possessed such emotions towards him. He would not, could not let her into his life like he had allowed her sister. It had nearly destroyed him with all the treachery and lies with Satine and he couldn't risk falling in love again…not this soon. It was for her own good. Surely she'd see that in time and realize that his friendship was too dangerous and walked an edge of inappropriateness.

Rebecca was a dear girl and he did cherish her friendship and pitiful jokes immensely, more so than he dared imagine. But she also held a great secret; he could see it in her eyes when she talked of her home in New York. In those moments she seemed to look trapped, caged if you will, and he could not risk losing himself in another fiasco of epic proportions. Besides, he was not the greatest catch around, for his flaws were many, and his ills were well known throughout Paris and dare say England.

"It's for the best," he muttered before sitting heavily to the side of the bed. If it was for the best, then why was it so damn difficult to convince his heart of such? His mind, yes. His heart, no.

~~*~~

"I promise you, Madame Blanc. I will have the money for you by the end of the week," Rebecca tried to convince the sour, gray-haired woman who had trapped her in the stairway.

"Two days, no more. You will have the rent money or you will find your belongings upon the street," the old woman threatened before mumbling under her breath about the curses of youth as she walked downstairs.

Rebecca slumped to the bottom step of the next landing and placed her hands to her face. She had no money left and her avoiding Madame Blanc had finally come to an end as well. Upon coming to Paris, she had honestly thought of it as being the first step in gaining her freedom from her impending marriage. But this quest too, was turning out to be another prison of her own making. This time around, she could not blame her drunken father for this latest fiasco in her life.

Jobs were hard to come by, and everywhere she went she was bluntly turned away. A shrill laugh left her lips as she couldn't help but think of how Robert would react if she sent word to him that she didn't even have enough money to take the boat back to New York and face him and his wrath at her little stunt to get out of her marriage contract. However, crawling back to him and his family, was the last thing she would ever do if possible. She came to Paris to get away and to finally be free. She would do just that once she found the money Satine had promised. She would use it to pay off Robert's family to forget all about the marriage, which was pre-arranged between Rebecca's father and Robert's father years earlier.

But now, she had an even greater threat looming over her head. Getting money and getting it rather quickly so that she had a place to live and food in her mouth. Going to speak to Christian had taken every ounce of resolve she possessed because she needed his advice and good guidance for she had honestly thought he had held her well being in good hands. Rebecca truly believed that he would guide her in the best direction.

She had also made the difficult decision of telling him all about Satine's promise of financial help, as well as her being sold into marriage by an unscrupulous marriage contract. Something she had fought valiantly against from the day she discovered her father's dealings. But Robert Winslow's power was far reaching, and money was the only way to buy her freedom.

Since Christian had deserted her and the world was baring down upon her from all directions, Rebecca made a decision. She would go to the Moulin Rouge where Satine had worked and beg for a job, any job. And she would not hesitate to barter on her sister's name, even though deep down she knew that Christian's warning about the club had been most vehement. What options did she have left?

First thing in the morning she would stop by the club and beg for anything available. What else could she do? It was either that or sleep upon the streets like a mere vagabond or vagrant. The sad truth of the matter was, Rebecca was not far from being a person of the streets, and she was but two days away from it. If she could not find a way to worm a job out of the Moulin, there was not much hope left outside of contacting Robert. Something she dared not imagine until all was lost and even then, the idea of living on the streets was more appealing than living in a gilded prison with her betrothed.

The thick, choking smoke and the sweet smell of alcohol were difficult to deal with, but after two weeks of working under those conditions, Rebecca was now holding her own. It was a little unnerving to find herself being pawed at by many a so-called wealthy gentleman, but at least now she didn't panic like the first few times she'd felt strong hands touch and caress her in places that only a lover had dared grace.

She looked into the mirror of the cluttered dressing room reserved for the hosting staff and bit her bottom lip. Nothing that reflected back to her gaze resembled who she really was. All that stared back from the glittering depths was a painted harlot who's cleavage threatened to spill out if the wind blew the wrong way.

Serge Dupuis, the stage manager who worked with her sister, had offered her the job of serving drinks and making the patrons feel at home within club walls. Rebecca had nearly burst into tears upon being first turned down before Serge came to her rescue and found her the most menial of tasks to do. Yet, it was a task that kept a roof over her head if nothing else.

Granted, it was quickly apparent that with this job came some very startling changes to her life. Christian had warned her of the decadence and darker side associated with the Moulin Rouge. But deep down the young woman could never honestly fathom just how sordid things could honestly become. That is until she was offered upon frequent occasions a chance to earn fast and easy money by pleasuring many a wealthy patron, as if she were a common street whore.

How did Satine fall into such a venomous pit? Surely it was a last resort and she had become unknowingly trapped and unable to escape the club's reputation. However, Rebecca was learning more and more every day of what her sister had truly become and it chilled her to the depths of her soul. For she knew that somewhere along Satine's journey, she had let her greed for wealth and stardom control her life. Something Rebecca prayed would never happen to her. She knew it was but a fine line she now walked as well.

"You can have my body but not my soul," Rebecca softly whispered before loud, sidesplitting laughter startled her from her musings.

The boisterous laugh was coming from Angelique, one of the older and more experienced girls in the club. Rumor had it that Angelique only stayed a server because it was much easier to mix with the gentlemen clientele and to sell her self more easily than working the streets. "Give it time, young one...that's exactly what I proclaimed and now the damned Moulin owns my body and my soul," she cackled merrily as the harsh life she had led showed upon the wrinkles of her face.

"No, it will not bury me like it buried my sister," Rebecca loudly objected as her words only made the older woman laugh more loudly.

"We'll see girl, I've seen and heard the word amongst the young rich gentlemen each night. One evening, such a man will name the correct price to own your body as well as your soul. It's a given," Angelique stated with eyes that were cold and heartless.

"Shut up old woman!" A tall, elegant blonde woman shouted as she entered the dressing room. "You only speak drivel because Rebecca has interested many of your 'friend's' eyes as they have begun to stray from the likes of a wrinkled up prune such as you, to a woman of true beauty," Margaux chastised as the older woman quickly shut her mouth. "Now go, leave the new girl alone before I spread rumors that you have the pox. Then see how many of these rich nobles bed you!"

With a subtle glare of true hatred in her eyes, Angelique slinked from the room. "Merci," Rebecca softly said as she turned to face the beautiful blonde who had saved her.

"My pleasure... the old cow," Margaux laughed. "Pay no attention to her ill words. She is just upset that many a young man has had their eyes upon you from the day you started. But do not get me wrong, part of what the old cow spouted was true. You must not lose yourself while here amongst the decadent or you will sell your soul," she warned as she gave Rebecca a slight hug before turning to fix her makeup in the far mirror.

"I'll not lose myself," the brunette vowed as Margeaux just smiled back at her reflection in the mirror and nodded her head in understanding. "I think you will be one of the few who live to tell the tale of life within these walls, and will be stronger for the journey and true to yourself," she agreed as the other woman couldn't help but smile back. "Now go! Henri was pitching a fit looking for you a few minutes ago. I lied and told him you were escorting Monsieur Denault to the door. Now leave before the little man comes looking for you and finds I lied!"

"Merci," Rebecca once again sighed, knowing full well that though Henri was a short, unassuming man in charge of his drink staff, he was completely capable of making quite the scene. Many a time Rebecca had watched in horror as he shouted and belittled the new girls bringing many to tears. It didn't go unnoticed that those, whom he made break down, were quickly placed upon his list to make their life a living hell. Margeaux had called it Henri's 'trial by fire,' his way to separate the strong from the weak.

~~*~~

"What are you doing?" A very familiar male voice echoed from the doorway of the bar, making Rebecca turn around in shock.

"Christian?" She asked as if nonbelieving. "What are you doing here?" It had been weeks since Rebecca had seen or heard from the man and upon seeing him unexpectedly, she found her heart racing and her longing only increase once again.

"I've been fol...I was out of town on business for the past two weeks in Lorient. And upon my return I stumbled upon what you now chose to do with your life. You foolish young woman," Christian snapped with eyes that blazed a molten blue, the likes of which the brunette had never seen before.

"Foolish? How dare you call me that. I only took the job here to keep a roof over my head and to not be cast upon the streets. I had no money left...I even stopped by your room to speak with you ages ago but you refused to open the door, though I could hear you inside. What else was I to do? You turned me aside when all I sought was your advice, and there's no way I was going to return to New York. Besides, I have no money to even return to America with..." she replied as she held the tray of drinks in her hand and moved to pass by him but his grasp upon her other arm stopped her in mid stride.

"So you decided to sell yourself like Satine," he seethed as he stared into her eyes. "It must be in the blood to whore one's self out like that, truly amazing."

"Don't you dare call me such," she stammered in shock. "I only serve drinks and that is all."

"Satine once claimed she was nothing but an entertainer. Yet, when I fell in love with her I soon found out she was nothing more than a high priced whore who sold her soul and her body to the highest bidder," the raven-haired gentleman challenged as the woman within his grasp struggled to break free.

"I am not my sister! Now let go!"

"No! You are leaving with me...end of discussion," Christian demanded as the pressure of his hand against her flesh increased. She tried to break free once more but only managed to spill the drinks upon her tray with a loud and resounding crash, which brought Henri sailing across the room.

"Why are you bothering now? For weeks you only cast me aside as if I didn't exist, why now?" Rebecca urgently whispered as she broke free of his hand and knelt to the floor to pick up the shards of glass.

"You stupid woman!" Henri raved as he towered over Rebecca's kneeling figure. "You're as clumsy as oxen! Where did you learn to serve drinks? I am not paying you to lick the remains from the floor, I am paying you to deliver the alcohol to the tables and make sure there are no mishaps. Do you understand me you stupid woman?"

It took all Rebecca's strength of will not to throw the tray into the short man's face and stare him down for insulting her before the entire room. But she needed the job and brutally bit back her remarks and nodded feebly.

"Oui, I understand," she softly replied while continuing her task.

"You will pay for everything you destroyed if you have to work day and night!" Henri raged as his arms fluttered madly about him.

"I understand," Rebecca stated as she slowly stood up and looked down at the man before her. "Do what you must."

"Henri, it is not dearest Rebecca's fault for this mishap. The fault lies with me...I was not looking where I stepped and walked into her by mistake," Christian suddenly interjected as Henri stopped his tirade and finally noticed the handsomely dressed young man to Rebecca's side.

A loud belly laugh was heard coming from Henri as he hugged Christian and patted him warmly on the back before releasing him. "Dear, noble Christian! What a surprise! We have missed seeing you. I thought you vowed to never step foot in here again?" The balding and round man chided as Rebecca noticed the subtle flinch in the younger man's face at Henri's words.

"It has been a long time," Christian elegantly replied. "I was brought here on urgent business about something amiss and I came to see someone. And as for the young lady...I will pay for all damages."

"No! I would not wish to bother you, Monsieur," Rebecca shot back with a subtle cut of her eyes to the dark-haired man beside her. "I'll pay for everything, I should have been more observant," she insisted before hurriedly leaving the two men.

"That one has spark!" Henri gleamed as he watched the beautiful brunette return to the bar to replace her drink order. "She has only been her a short time, but she did not break down or flee upon my rantings. I like that in her," the older man smirked merrily then noticed the look upon Christian's face as he watched Rebecca with intensity. "I see young one that she has taken your eye as well," he grinned madly.

"She is a beauty and she does have spirit...or fire as you say," Christian mumbled, as his eyes never left the young woman across the room. "Ignore what she told you Henri. I will pay for all damages, it will be between you and I."

"As you wish," the short, balding man agreed as Christian discreetly slipped the francs into the other's palm.

"Henri, would you please keep an eye out for Rebecca and inform me if anything happens or anyone bothers her?"

"Certainly," Henri replied with a smile. "She really did catch your eye. Rebecca is a good one, dearest Christian. She does not stray from the Moulin with other men even though they try nightly to buy her affections. This young girl is not meant for the likes of this place and she knows it."

"You are correct, old friend, that young lady is not meant for here. Please, would you find me your most discreet table so I may be unobserved tonight?"

Henri slapped the young man upon the back with great mirth before leading him into the main room and toward a small table in the back corner, which was obscured in shadows. "My pleasure. Does this mean you will be gracing us with your presence once again?"

Christian took a deep shuddering breath as he sat down and glanced about the room till he found what he was searching for. Rebecca was serving drinks to an older couple near the stage and his eyes never left her form. "I'll be coming upon occasion," he stated as Henri laughed jovially.

"I'll reserve this table so you can observe in relative peace and quiet as well as anonymity," he promised as Christian nodded his thanks. "Your regular?"

"No, red wine tonight. Your best," the dark-haired gentleman corrected as Henri raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Things really have changed," the other man mused aloud before turning to walk away.

"Henri, would you please make sure Rebecca is my server," Christian requested as the short man turned back around and winked at him.

"I had that in mind all along, young one. I had that in mind all along," Henri wickedly laughed before being swallowed up in the crowd as he made his way to the bar.

The Moulin Rouge was the last place Christian ever expected to set foot in again. But upon following Rebecca from her room at the boarding house tonight after his return to Paris, he was quite upset at finding her going within the clubs garish doors. He had lost Satine to the evils of the Moulin...no...truth was, he never truly had Satine he quickly corrected. Yet, he was going to sit vigil every night at that damned table till he talked some sense into that stubborn woman to leave that hell as fast as she could. Or until he could figure a subtle way out of there for her, he mused to himself as he watched her head his way with a wine glass and the house's best bottle of Merlot on her tray.

He couldn't help but try and hide his smile at how she looked at him in confusion and out right unabashed anger with each step she took toward his table. Damn the woman for trying to crush his wall of protection with such a simple act. But he could not hide any longer, he knew to save her; he had to possibly risk himself.

For the past week, Christian had taken up a discreet residence in the dark corner table, whenever Rebecca arrived at the club. It was a vigil he felt he must be diligent in to protect the young woman.

"I see your shadow is watching you once again," Angelique snidely remarked as she stood by the tremendous bar, awaiting her order as Rebecca walked up.

"Who do you mean?" Rebecca feigned innocently, knowing full well whom the other woman was speaking of as she sat her tray to the pristine, black marble bar top.

"The dark-haired one they call Christian," the older woman smirked as Rebecca casually glanced across the room to his table. "For a man of such wealth and breeding, he seems to have this unmistakable weakness for whores," she coldly remarked hoping to get the brunette's blood boiling.

"He is not like that!" Rebecca snapped before Angelique grabbed her full tray and sauntered away in triumph.

"She's only jealous," Margaux interjected as she stepped up to the bar. "Christian is a very handsome and intelligent man who became caught amidst the sordid lifestyle which the Moulin harbors. I truly believe he loved your sister. However, she only loved money and he was hurt badly by her actions. If I were the woman capable of reaching that man's true heart, I'd shout to the world I was his lover," she wickedly gleamed as she nudged Rebecca playfully.

"I'm finding out that I honestly did not know my own sister," Rebecca remarked softly.

"Many people change over time, and not for the better. When Satine first arrived, she knew her focus was to be the star of the Moulin Rouge. With time, she didn't care how she achieved that goal," Margaux explained as she watched the young brunette pick up her tray to leave. "I'd dare say Rebecca, that you were the only one who truly did know the real Satine."

With those words still ringing in her ears, Rebecca took a deep shuddering breath to control her emotions. Then with a weak smile, she walked into the main room.

~~*~~

"Henri, where is Mademoiselle Rebecca?" Christian asked with alarm upon his arrival to the club the following evening.

"I am so glad to see you, dearest Christian. I was just about to send a message to your room," Henri nervously whispered at he tried to look unconcerned to those around him.

"What is it?"

"When I was busy with the young, fluttering red-head earlier, your Rebecca was taken into the private suites to work," the short, balding man explained as he watched the young man before him stiffen. "It was a special request," he shakily continued as he noticed Christian's eyes blazing with fire.

"Who?" Christian gruffly demanded with a wavering voice.

"Count Remar," Henri shuddered. Count Remar was infamous within Paris circles at getting what he wanted no matter the consequences. If it were not freely given, he'd try to buy it, and if it were not buyable...he'd brutally take.

"Damn, she hasn't a clue as to what that pompous fool is capable of," Christian muttered as he raked a hand through his hair. "Which private suite has the count chosen for the evening?"

"His usual, the most garish one the club offers. Young friend, what do you intend to do?"

"I haven't a clue. But I have between here and there to decide," the raven-haired gentleman stated before purposely striding to the private, high priced suites in the back of the club. Suites that only the most elite and wealthy knew of their existence. If he did not hurry, Count Remar could have already drugged the young woman, or worse. Both acts, which raced through Christian's mind, were horrible and the Count was quite notorious for such violent and despicable crimes.

~~*~~

It wasn't as if Rebecca was completely ignorant of men, for she had thought herself to be in love at one time and had freely given herself to her young lover. But the Count's aggression toward her took her completely by surprise as he pulled her to his lap, and roughly ran his hand between her thighs.

The more she struggled against his actions, the more aggressive he became. It was as if the fight fueled his lust. When his teeth brutally clamped down upon the sensitive skin of her bare shoulder, she screamed in protest and sheer pain. Reacting on pure instinct, Rebecca slammed the palm of her hand soundly into the Count's chin, sending his head to snap back brutally. This gave her just enough time to wriggle from his grasp and run for the door.

Before Rebecca could reach the release, the Count had recovered and was upon her like a lightning strike as he roughly pinned her against the velvet covered wall. He was just raising his clenched fist to harshly strike her when the door to the private suite opened unexpectedly, and Christian stepped inside, startling both the Count and the young woman.

"My apologies. Please, excuse the intrusion," Christian smoothly said in a cool, collected voice as the Count slowly released the woman and stepped away from her as if he'd been having a casual, friendly chat. "I'm sorry, I was told Mademoiselle Margaux was in this room awaiting my arrival after paying for her...time," he wickedly smiled.

"I'm afraid Monsieur, that I paid for, and requested this private suite earlier," Count Remar stated with irritation as he straightened his rumpled clothing.

"My deepest and most sincere apologies, Monsieur. I must have been mistaken. Forgive the intrusion," Christian apologized as he never glanced toward Rebecca but ignored her presence. It was the most difficult task he'd attempted in ages for he so wanted to make sure she was all right, but he couldn't risk it for fear of showing the Count his barely controlled rage. For every fiber of his soul was screaming for him to grab Rebecca protectively against him, and then beat the smug bastard within an inch of his life.

"Your apology is accepted," the silver-haired man replied with a nod of his head as he watched the young, dark-haired gentleman slowly back out of the room.

"Again, my apologies," Christian insisted with a slight bow then turned to leave but suddenly spun around to face the Count once more. "Excuse my boldness, but am I not mistaken to have seen you at the private gaming tables?"

"Oui," Remar replied, his interest peaked for he had a passion for games of high money and chance.

"I was told that a small, private, and very high stakes game of cards was now starting upstairs," Christian explained. "I would join myself this evening, however, my mood lies in time spent with Mademoiselle Margaux and other...vices," he wickedly grinned as the Count laughed knowingly.

"This feisty woman here is well worth the challenge. However, I dare say I'm not up to breaking her in this night...maybe another time," Remar cockily smirked as Rebecca picked up the heavy marble statuette that sat upon a small round pedestal in the far corner. She had every intention of bashing it against the pompous bastard before her, but at the moment she stepped behind the deceptively distinguished man, Christian's azure eyes locked with hers. With the subtlest of looks, he gave her a warning glance and she reluctantly heeded his order as she sat the decadent artwork of two lovers' caught in an intimate pose, to the table beside her.

Without another word the Count smoothed his hair to his scalp and brushed by Christian as he made his way upstairs. The man's weakness for gambling momentarily overruling his lust. The moment the other man disappeared, Christian shut and locked the door behind him and with three long strides now stood before the shaken woman.

In an instant he had wrapped his arms tightly around her as she sank willingly into his embrace. Rebecca instantly relaxed as Christian whispered soothing words of comfort in her ear and gently stroked her long hair.

"Are you all right?" He asked as he refused to release her but upon noticing the blood on his hand, he urgently stepped away to see the vicious bite mark on her shoulder. "Damn that devil!" Christian snapped in anger before tenderly touching her shoulder making her flinch.

"I'll be fine," she insisted as she saw the worry etched upon his furrowed brow.

The next instant he placed his topcoat to her shoulders then took her hand in his and led her to the door. "You are leaving...no argument. You are going home."

"But Henri will have my head," Rebecca objected as her shoulder throbbed uncontrollably when a drunken young man jostled her by mistake as she walked by.

"Once I show Henri what that bastard did to you then there will be no arguments. Besides, leave the fiery old man to me," Christian insisted as they found his old friend and showed him the Count's brutal handy work.

The outspoken, puffed-up man was truly at a loss for words upon seeing Rebecca's torn and bloodied shoulder. Yet, his eyes spoke volumes as he looked upon the young woman and her protector. The only intelligible word to leave Henri's lips was an order to Christian to take her home and to make sure she was well taken care of. She was also not to return to work for two days or else he'd make her life difficult, he feigned as she couldn't help but smile at the old man's soft heart. He was rough and gruff on the outside. Yet, he had a warm protective heart on the inside.

~~*~~

"Get some rest," Christian softly ordered after taking Rebecca back to his room and caring for her injuries.

"I am not tired," she protested while trying to stifle a yawn behind her hand.

"I do not believe you, Becca," he objected while fighting a smile. "Humor me, pretend to rest your eyes."

The young woman fought to keep her eyes open as Christian sat beside her on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. "Christian, why did you ignore me for those weeks?" Rebecca sleepily slurred as he ran his hand along her cheek as she slowly closed her eyes.

"I thought it was for the best. I was a fool to believe such," he gently confessed, not sure if she had actually fathomed his words or not from the feeble murmur and head nod of acknowledgement he had received.

"It was not for the best. Don't leave me tonight," the exhausted woman said in such a low voice he honestly wasn't' sure he had heard her correctly. Christian leaned down and couldn't resist brushing his lips against her forehead in a kiss that was as light as a feather. "Stay with me..." she tiredly whispered as her eyes fluttered open to see him.

"Shh...rest. I'll be here when you awake," he promised before easing himself down upon the bed beside her. Rebecca's body melded against his instantly as he lay atop the covers. With a sigh of contentment, Christian wrapped his arm around her waist and closed his eyes as her soft murmur lulled him to sleep.

The morning light softly drifted into the room in subtle shards to rest against the cold wooden floor. Rebecca reluctantly opened her eyes to the intruding light as she rapidly blinked while trying to focus on her surroundings. It wasn't until the warm body beside her snuggled closer that she quickly realized where she was as she gently shifted to watch Christian sleeping soundly beside her.

Rebecca burrowed beneath the covers and rested peacefully beside the handsome, raven-haired man as she just drank him in as if he were a fine wine. She couldn't help but smile at how his hair rakishly fell against his eyelids in a very innocent, yet enticing way. She adored the regal cleft in his chin and ached to run her finger across it to hear the soft rasp her fingernail would make as it slowly slid across his morning stubble.

The man beside her was elegantly handsome, yet shouted animal magnetism in the same breath she mused as he mumbled in his sleep and she longingly sighed. He was a cherished friend, someone to look to for advice, and someone who could make her laugh when the world crashed about her feet. But when did her feelings change? When did it happen? What moment was it that her heart embraced him like the flowers embrace the sun? She was truly in love with the man, something so simple and pure that it was exquisite.

Only once in her life had she thought herself to be in love, but she was wrong. It was purely the attractions of a teenager who had yet to know the true meaning of the word. This time she was certain it was love. For the feeling was near stifling, yet overwhelmingly addictive and beyond intoxicating.

It was in those early morning hours that Rebecca finally reinforced the decision she had made earlier. She would tell Christian of her real reason for coming to Paris and finding Satine's promised financial help. He had to know about Robert Winslow and the marriage contract that hounded her every waking minute.

~~*~~

"Christian? Do you not write any longer?" Rebecca quizzed later that same morning as she strolled about Christian's room and ran her finger across the typewriter and found it covered in dust.

"Not for a very long time," he replied reluctantly as he stood before the basin shaving.

"Why? Satine said you were one of the best writers she'd ever known," she continued as she stopped before the overwhelming stack of books, which littered the corner behind his desk. There was everything from Shakespeare's classics to authors Rebecca had never heard of, and mused them to be new up and coming writers.

"Damn," Christian muttered as he cut himself with the straight razor and quickly leaned over the basin to rinse his face then towel off. "I just don't write..." he snapped in annoyance at the beautiful woman's question as he glanced at her from the mirror.

Rebecca knew she was treading on dangerous ground but something whispered to her heart that she must pursue this, he needed to answer. "Why? How can you just stop?" She softly asked before walking over to him, taking the towel from his hands and placing it against the side of his neck to stop the blood flow from where he knicked himself just seconds earlier.

He stood frozen to the spot, not daring to move a muscle as her green eyes looked warmly up at him. "There are no more words left within me, Rebecca," he confessed with pain. "The chasm is empty."

"I dare say you are wrong, sweet Christian. I feel the words and the tales that still reside deep within your soul. Maybe you are just looking in the wrong place...the wrong way to express them," she suggested as she pulled the towel away to inspect her handy work and smiled at finding no blood.

Christian placed his hand on her chin to make her look into his eyes once more as he searched deep within her, hoping he could read everything about her in that one blinding moment. "Maybe you are correct," he whispered.

"Trust yourself, do not let the walls you've placed within your heart hinder your passions," Rebecca softly insisted as she could not pull away from his alluring gaze.

"Beautiful Becca, if you only knew how unabashedly right your words are upon so many levels," the handsome man uttered as he slowly descended upon her. "May I kiss you?" he asked as his lips brushed teasingly against the woman's below him.

Rebecca reveled in the presence of this man as the smell of his cleanly shaven face, and his own alluring, crisp scent was committed to memory for an eternity in that single instant. "If you don't, I'll never forgive you," she whispered upon his burning touch.

Christian claimed her with a kiss that was warm and intense. Every second was more glorious than the next as he heard her soft moan of want. That was all the invitation he needed as his tongue swept across her bottom lip before demanding entrance into the sweetness that lay just behind those silken lips.

He slid his hands into her long, silken tresses to hold her still. When she parted her lips to gasp aloud at the sensual overload, he took advantage of it and slid his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth and found himself moaning in delight. Within a heartbeat, Christian found himself spiraling into oblivion by the mere taste of her. Nothing he had ever experience in his lifetime had been this all-consuming, and if kissing her could unravel his soul, he dared not think of what would happen to him when he took her to his bed.

With great reluctance Christian gently broke the kiss and slowly pulled away from the woman who had become melded against his chest. She was more beautiful then than he had ever seen as her eyes were wide with passion and her lips swollen from their kiss. He wanted her so badly that every nerve in his body was screaming in agony as his eyes feasted upon her beauty, and he couldn't help but smile at the way she tried to subtly catch her breath.

"Would you care to go to the small café down the block and get lunch?" He asked as they still stayed in each other's embrace.

Rebecca just grinned madly and shook her head in the affirmative before finally finding her voice. "I'm starved...that would be...nice," she wickedly replied as Christian arched a brow in shock.

"My dear woman, surely you are referring to lunch and not something more...lurid?" He asked with a lopsided grin as she laughed merrily.

"What do you think?"

Christian found himself chuckling loudly before pulling her even tighter against him and kissing her forehead. "You will be the death of me in more ways than one, I do fear," he sighed sweetly upon releasing her.

"Never! I will set you free," Rebecca smiled as bright as the sun itself, the handsome gentleman thought with wonder.

"Maybe you will, Becca. Maybe you just will," he agreed before pulling away to finish getting dressed then realizing that the beautiful young woman had changed back into her frilly dress from the Moulin Rouge upon waking that morning.

As if she could read his thoughts Rebecca suddenly sat on the edge of the bed and groaned. "Maybe we should stop my room first so I can be more presentable in public. All heads would turn if I wore this upon the streets."

"They would only turn to stare at your beauty for it rivals the moon and stars themselves," Christian gushed as Rebecca giggled.

"You are too good to me, Christian. But I think I would prefer something less...revealing and more subtle for an afternoon lunch at the café," she mused as he nodded his head in agreement.

"Very well, first we stop by your room so you can change and then we eat," he confirmed with a nod of his head for added measure.

~~*~~

"What is wrong, Becca? We can send your meal back if it does not suit you," Christian stated as he watched the woman before him push the food about her plate for the past fifteen minutes.

"No, the food is fine. I've just been...you see, I've...Christian, I need to tell you something but I lack the courage once the time is near," she confessed as she sat her fork to the plate and finally looked at the man before her.

"Lack courage? What could be so grievous that it nearly ills you to tell me? Is it New York?" He asked as the moment her eyes darted to him in alarm, Christian knew he had found what had been bothering the young woman during their lunch.

The soft nip of the autumn air and the sounds of children playing in the nearby park should have made Rebecca feel alive and confident. Yet, even knowing this was the correct thing to do, she felt hesitant and cold. In all the time that she had been thrust into her situation with Robert and his family, she had never told another living soul except Satine of her feelings of pure and utter helplessness.

"Please Becca, what is wrong? What is so tormenting about your life in New York that makes you pale at the slightest mention on the word?"

"I have not been completely truthful with you. Yes I did come to Paris to collect the financial funds Satine had promised me. But there is a deeper, more urgent matter why I need to find what was left," Rebecca shakily began as Christian leaned across the small wrought iron table and gently grasped her hand in his.

"What is it?" he warmly urged as his eyes blazed in concern.

"I need it to get out of a marriage contract," she confessed after taking a deep breath to gain her resolve once more. "I was not lucky to have a father who wished me great happiness, Christian. My father found Satine and myself to be nothing more than mere ways he could increase his wealth; we were but a hindrance to him. My sister ran away at an early age to Paris, leaving me alone with my father. When I was sixteen he got into a drunken poker game and my life was but a pittance in what he would owe to Major Winslow."

"That night over brandy and cigars, my life was forever changed. My father sold me into marriage to Robert Winslow; I would be nothing more than a trophy wife. Only good to parade around upon his arm and to bare him an heir," Rebecca mournfully explained.

"You do not love him as well?" Christian asked as his eyes blazed the deepest blue the woman before him had ever seen.

"There is no love. I am to be nothing more than a mere possession. I can not marry him, Christian. I would suffocate and die if I had to live my life according to the rules of some damned contract," she snapped with conviction as he squeezed her hand in a comforting gesture.

"Are you certain that finding Satine's funds will buy you from this marriage contract?"

"Yes, the Winslow's are notorious for casting aside all propriety for the sake of finance. Robert would just as soon take what I offered and never tell a living soul and just call me dead and forgotten to his family. The man is cold, I dare say he has no heart except for what his wealth can buy, that is the only passion he has."

"And you have not found Satine's promised help?"

"No, I have searched everywhere I can think of, from her belongings that were stored at the Moulin Rouge to inquiring at all the surrounding banks. Still nothing," Rebecca explained with a quivering voice. "I can run from Robert Winslow, but he will not let me rest unless I make restitution for what he'd consider a loss."

"Then we will find a way to make this Robert Winslow leave you alone. I do have funds which..." Christian began to suggest but Rebecca quickly pulled away from his grasp to stare at him in shock.

"No! I will not allow you to even think such. I did not come to Paris to look for a gentleman who would give me wealth," she loudly objected as the raven-haired young man took a sip of his wine then longingly looked her in the eyes.

"What if I were to give you you're freedom?" He questioned with a calm, clear voice.

Rebecca felt her heart race at his words. For he offered her something which she had craved for so long that the temptation to accept actually crossed her mind for a brief moment. "The offer is very dear of you, sweet Christian. However, I can not accept. Not on those terms, though you must know that you have already accomplished my freedom," she smiled as he cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Don't look so startled or unknowing," she lowly laughed. "You've given me the greatest freedom of all. You, Christian, have freed my heart," Rebecca gently confessed as she locked eyes with his teal gaze and felt as if her being could drown in their soulful depths.

"Becca, you don't truly understand your gift to me and possibly never will. I never thought I could dare to open my heart again...to love. Yet, you showed me that if I do not take the challenge, I would forever not feel. And I do not want to go through my life being cold and bitter, nothing more than a shell of a man," he expressed with such emotion it made her bite her bottom lip to fight back the tears.

"Well, we're here," Christian remarked as he stood before the boarding house Rebecca now called home.

"Yes, we are most certainly here," the brunette sighed as she glanced behind her to the quaint brick building and nodded her head in agreement.

The setting sun was bringing the damp chill back to the air as they stood nervously chatting about nothing in general. The fact of the matter was, neither one wanted to call it a day. So both stood huddled together, talking of nothing just to be within one another's presence.

"I wish I could invite you upstairs," Rebecca apologized as she glanced to the ground and bit her bottom lip. "But Madame Blanc would probably have a fit."

Christian just laughed heartily and glanced toward the intricate stained glass doors at the top of the steps and then back to the beautiful woman before him. "It is a hindrance for you to live in a 'women only' boarding house," he smirked wickedly as Rebecca looked upon his face and couldn't help but return the grin. "But what Madame Blanc does not see, she will not know," he stated with conviction as he kissed Rebecca softly upon the cheek.

"You wouldn't? Would you? Do you think we could pull it off? Surely Madame Blanc would see you sneaking upstairs?" Rebecca exclaimed in shock, yet was totally thrilled by the idea. She didn't want the evening to end, so she was game to try anything to spend more time with this alluring raven-haired gentleman.

"We can do anything if we work together. You keep Madame Blanc occupied while I just stroll by and wait for you inside your room," he explained with a gleam in his teal eyes that could light the night.

Rebecca just giggled like a schoolgirl before kissing him soundly, then turned to head inside but suddenly stopped on the top step. "You might need this, thief," she smiled sweetly before throwing him the key to her room.

Christian caught the key and glanced at it before nodding to Rebecca. "A man can't think of everything," he teased as she tried to stifle her laugh before walking inside and distracting Madame Blanc from her duties behind the front desk.

~~*~~

"I thought she nearly had me!" Christian exclaimed as he loudly laughed while he and Rebecca tumbled to the bed in a fit of amusement.

Rebecca looked at him and dramatically sighed. "I thought you were a goner as well when Madame Blanc turned around like that! If you hadn't of taken a header behind the sofa, I know you'd be history," she said with great mirth. "You do realize what she'd have done to you?"

Christian groaned and rolled over to his side to see the woman beside him more clearly as he propped his head against his hand. "I have this horrible feeling I don't want to know...I'm rather sure it involves a body part that I am quite fond of," he smirked with a raised brow for emphasis.

"Definitely a body part I am...you are rather fond of..."Rebecca stammered softly as she now turned to face him, and the laughter quickly died as they looked into each others eyes while laying atop the big brass bed.

Like the touch of a warm breeze against her skin, Christian ran his fingertips across her flushed cheek and reveled in the satiny smoothness. "You are so beautiful," he remarked as he drank her in as if he were a man dying of thirst.

In the subtlest of moves, he leaned forward and kissed her with such passion, he found his own moan of delight, echoed beneath him by Rebecca. While his hands snaked into her long brown hair he maneuvered her against his chest and now had her pinned delicately beneath his body.

Their kiss was never-ending and with such desire that both thought they'd burst from the feeling of one another. "I want you, Becca...I need you," Christian hoarsely confessed as he slowly pulled away from her swollen lips and gazed lustfully into her eyes. "I want to make love to you."

Rebecca lay below him and ran her finger teasingly down the cleft in his chin, making him close his eyes and sigh. She did not answer him with words but with her actions as she began to divest him of his clothing with such urgency, that when he began to help her, both their hands fumbled in need before they began to do the same to her.

Though the cold night air drifted about the small room, they did not feel the chill as they lay atop the colorful quilt and explored each other's body with the utmost of delight. Rebecca felt as if her body was on fire by the sheer touch of his hand to her bare hip while his tongue lashed languidly around her swollen nipple.

Christian dared to glance up to the woman under him as he moved from one breast to the other to continue his sweet torture. He nearly spilled his seed like a virgin when he saw the look of pure ecstasy upon her face at how he was playing her body like a fine classical instrument.

The need to pleasure her was overwhelming and relentless, but he knew he wanted her too badly to last long. He gently nipped, then kissed her nipple before releasing it. With a gentle nudge to her inner thigh he spread her legs enough to grant him the entry they both so desired as he teasingly rubbed the tip of his erection against her wet folds.

When he brushed against her clit she bucked her hips against him as she gasped loudly and only succeeded in burying the head of his shaft within her entrance. This action made him hiss sharply at the feel of her tantalizingly around his engorged shaft, and when she wrapped her leg around his hip to encourage and push him deeper within, he could resist no longer and thrust himself inside her body. He was sheathed so deeply within her that his dark curls created an electricity that arced through her body as he brushed against her aching clit.

"Beautiful," Christian gasped as he stilled himself within her, reveling at the feel of being joined and consumed.

Rebecca softly whimpered as she could feel his shaft throbbing deep within her and she wanted nothing more than for him to move and create that wonderful friction that would send both their bodies careening over the edge. "Please, Christian," she urged as she tried to maneuver her hips in such a manner to seek her overwhelming desire to feel him move inside her.

Christian leaned forward and lightly bit her bottom lip before soothing it with a sweep of his tongue. Seconds later he nearly pulled himself all the way out of her hot, sweet channel before plunging in with a low growl. His lips kissed her with a fevered touch as he found his pace being hard and relentless as she met him thrust for thrust till her moans of delight were near constant, and he was now grunting in time with each sweet stroke.

He watched as she desperately clutched the bars of the brass headboard above her with such a grip, her knuckles were white, and her head tossed from side to side upon the feather pillow. The sound of her nearing orgasm was music to his ears and drove him to an erotic high that no drug or alcohol could ever compare.

Sweat dripped from his dark hair to splash against her breast, and the sight of the tendril of water running down her silken skin only made the ache within his shaft near excruciating. He was mesmerized to watch the salty sweat hit her taunt nipple and then glide down to pool between the globes of her breasts.

"Sweet...wonderfully sweet," he nearly shouted as his jaw clenched at the same moment her body spasmed around his erection.

Rebecca nearly screamed with joy when the shudder of release wracked her body and he quickly stole her cries from her throat as he kissed her deeply. He didn't have to look to her hands, which were still wrapped around the brass railings to know that she was holding on for dear life as wave after wave of pure orgasm claimed her body.

That was his undoing to feel her inner walls contract against his shaft as she vocally exclaimed her ecstasy. With one more sure thrust, he poured his warm essence deep within her as his hips jerked wildly till he was completely spent and his voice hoarse from his growls of pleasure.

"Exquisite," he breathlessly croaked while trying to keep most of the weight of his body from crushing hers as he looked upon her sweat streaked face and brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek. He couldn't help but smile when she raked a hand through his own damp hair to get it away from his eyes as she fought to catch her breath. "I love you," Christian whispered before softly kissing her then sliding from her body as she mewed in protest before sinking to the bed beside her.

"Love you too," Rebecca softly said as he looked at her, then ran his finger across the bridge of her nose.

Rebecca lay beside him and watched the man with wonder as their hearts slowly calmed, and their rapid breathing became normal. She rolled to her side and melded herself against his taunt body while running her fingers across his smooth chest. "Do you think Madame Blanc heard us?" She giggled while he closed his wondrous eyes then suddenly opened them upon her remark.

"To hell with Madame Blanc. I hope the whole of Paris heard us...no, the whole damn world heard us," he wickedly replied as he wrapped an arm possessively around her shoulders and snuggled her against his chest as she laughed.

"Rest now, love. Because that is only the beginning," he promised with a low chuckle as she sighed in contentment before her eyes began to flutter closed.

"Promise?" She tiredly asked while fighting a yawn.

"Definitely a promise," he vowed before reaching behind her to pull the edge of the quilt over their rapidly cooling bodies. "By morning, we will be so sated and spent we won't be able to move," he teased as she nudged his shoulder with her hand and he sighed.

This time was different, much different. For the first time in a very long while he realized that the woman in his arms was his true love. He had only been fooling himself with his dalliances with Satine...for she did not love him and he finally realized he had never truly been in love with her. He was in love with the idea of love. Becca was his everything and the key to gaining back his soul and much more he mused before her soft breathing made him glance down to her face and found her fast asleep. Sleep had made those beautiful features he adored seem almost angelic in the soft light of the full moon coming through the window.

It would snow soon; he could see it in the sky. That was always a good sign he thought to himself before closing his eyes and finding sleep sneaking up on him quickly as well.

"You do not have to watch over me," Rebecca whispered to Christian as she sat the bottle of his favorite Merlot to the table he continued to reside at inside the Moulin Rouge.

The handsome man just took a deep breath and sighed as the music from the stage washed over him in a brutal fashion. "I will stay here till you find Satine's money or until you find another job which is less dangerous," he replied with that stubborn look in his eyes.

Rebecca knew that look well. For over the last three weeks she had seen it upon many occasions as Christian tried his best to get her to let him help financially. But as always, she steadfastly refused. She would not jeopardize their relationship because of such drivel.

"Christian, you do not have to do this. I love you dearly for protecting me, but I feel as if I'm bringing you back to a place which holds bitter memories," she protested as he raised his hand to stop her remarks.

"I do not like coming to the Moulin Rouge, this is true. But the memories of this place become much sweeter upon your coming here. Besides...skulking in this corner gives me a chance to think. That is, when Henri is not bothering me," he chided upon seeing the fiery man walking his way.

"I am not paying you to socialize with the rabbles of such...bourgeois," Henri exclaimed to Rebecca with a wink. "Is this gentleman bothering you, dearest Rebecca? If so I will have him tossed outside upon his derrière," he laughed evilly as Christian poured a glass of wine and took a sip.

"No...he is quite the gentleman. And don't you dare harm his derrière!" Rebecca wickedly objected as Christian nearly choked on his wine and Henri laughed so loudly that he nearly drowned out the band.

"Well my, dearest Christian, it would seem the young lady is quite found of your derrière," Henri gloated as the young man looked to be blushing.

Rebecca just watched her lover with a sweet smile before blowing him a kiss and disappearing into the crowded bar. "She is quite smitten with you. Young Rebecca is just what you need to bring out your passion once more, dearest Christian. And you are good for her as well...you give her a courage she never realized she had," the balding man exclaimed as Christian pulled at his collar and sighed in contentment making the older man laugh.

"Yes, Rebecca is quite good for me," Christian agreed. "And courage? Dare I ask what my beautiful Becca has done?"

"It was quite amusing really," Henri began as he took the vacant seat by his old friend and leaned toward him in a conspiratorial manner. "Your beautiful Rebecca stood up to Angelique earlier when the old hag began to say some nasty things about you."

"About me?" Christian asked in shock. "What happened?"

"Well...Margaux told me that Angelique was treating Rebecca quite cruelly and then when she started in on you, your darling girl hauled off and punched the witch," Henri gleamed with great pride as Christian's jaw nearly hit the table in shock.

"My, Becca? She...she..." the young man stammered.

"She broke the old whore's nose. Granted, it's not like anyone will notice since it's been busted so many times before by her drunken falls. But still...I only wish I had been there for I would have held the old bat down so dearest Rebecca could have throttled her good," he smiled brightly before Christian broke out it laughter.

"I wish I had been there myself," Christian chuckled before Henri clasped him tightly on the shoulder.

"This is advice from a lonely old man. But do not let this one get away, dearest Christian. She has a spirit, which is contagious. Damn, but if I were twenty years younger, dear boy, I'd be giving you a hard fought battle for her affections," the older man stated as Christian nodded his head in agreement. "Get her out of this place quickly, my friend. Before the evils that reside within these walls smother her light," he warned before leaving the table to berate Angelique whom was standing in the corner propositioning an old man as she tried to cover her swollen nose behind her tray.

Henri was right, Christian mused to himself as he glanced to the stage and watched the all too familiar floor show. He had to convince Rebecca to leave the Moulin Rouge and possibly Paris. Going back to London might be the perfect new beginning. But he knew deep down she would not leave till she either found Satine's promised money or worked herself half to death to pay off the marriage contract. Maybe it was time to take matters into his own hands. He had funds and if those were not enough he damn well would find the money even if it meant going to his family. Rebecca was too precious to him to allow her to fall into the pits of hell. He'd do anything to keep her safe and see to her happiness. Because for the first time in his life, he was truly in love and could see an actual future with a family and growing gracefully old with his Becca. He would not lose that if it were the last thing on earth he did, he would not lose her.

~~*~~

"That one over there is quite the handful tonight," Margaux groaned as she joined Rebecca at the bar to gather her drink order.

"Which one? There are quite a few wealthy gentlemen with loose hands here this evening," Rebecca laughed as Margaux relaxed a little at her friend's remark.

"True, very true...the blonde American. He is such a...well, let's just say, he has roaming hands," she winced as she rubbed her bruised thigh from where he had roughly pinched her. "Just be a good girl and keep away from him or you'll be sorry," Margaux warned. "He's out for more than a good feel and with all the liquor he's been downing...he will be quite demanding come the end of the night."

"Merci, I am glad you warned me," Rebecca replied before taking her tray. "American, you say?"

"Definitely, a snob if you ask me," she added as she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

~~*~~

Rebecca was walking to her table with a full tray when an arm suddenly snaked out of nowhere and yanked her free hand, making her spill the entire contents she carried to the floor. If the band had not just started its midnight show, the echoes of broken glassware would have bounced off the walls.

"What the hell are you doing here?" A very deep, male voice roughly demanded as he held her arm in a painful grip. "You little bitch. I knew you were running away, I told father as much. But I had no idea you had become such a cheap whore."

The voice sent a chill to the depths of Rebecca's soul. This was the one person she wished to never see again and here he was right before her eyes, Robert Winslow, her betrothed. She struggled to break free of his grasp but only managed to make him increase the pressure.

"Let me go, Robert. You're hurting me," Rebecca demanded while trying to stay calm. She prayed that Christian was too busy watching the stage to see the free floorshow that had erupted between her and the man she was running from.

"You, little girl, do not know the meaning of pain. Just wait till I take you home," he bellowed, as his gray eyes looked colder than slate and for the first time in her life Rebecca was truly afraid of the man. Before she had only disliked him, but now his drunken rage frightened her immensely.

"Leave me alone, you do not own me...and you never will," she stammered as he laughed in her face and then stole a brutal kiss. The alcohol on his breath nearly gagged her as she tried to shove him away. It was at that moment that Christian and Henri both noticed what was happening along the far wall between Rebecca and the tall, imposing man with blonde hair.

"I own your body and will do as I wish. Don't think otherwise, you insolate woman. How dare you run away like this. Father told me I might find you here, where you dear sister once lived. I thought him mad, for surely you were not that dumb. But obviously I was wrong," he smirked as he jerked her arm roughly. "We are leaving, that is final."

"No, I will not go with you," Rebecca shot back as he looked upon her as if she were mad. "I still have time to buy out our marriage contract before you pretend to the world to own me. I will not go with you," she thundered to his amusement.

"Damn woman, but you've suddenly found your backbone," he grinned as he wavered on unsteady feet.

"Release her," Christian ordered coldly as he now stood beside the couple.

"And just who the hell are you?" Robert snorted with distaste.

"It doesn't matter. The woman said she was not going with you, and she won't," the raven-haired man promised with fire in his eyes.

"So, your lover I presume? You can lay with him, yet I can not touch you," the tall blonde raged as he nearly snapped the woman's arm from her shoulder with his brutal move. "Damn, but you are truly the beautiful whore your father warned us about."

"I take it this is the bastard Robert Winslow," Christian spat as he eyed the man before him as Henri now stood within range as well. "I see why you feel the way you do about him, Becca. He is a sniveling coward who lacks the manhood to find his own women. He chooses to buy them as if a slave for he knows no woman would love a man who was heartless."

Winslow did not release Rebecca but began to lunge toward the handsome gentleman who had obviously said disparaging words to him, but the woman he fought to control took matters into her own hands. Unexpectedly he found the world spinning about him as he fell to the floor in agony. She had taken the momentary distraction to soundly knee him in the groin.

"Robert, meet Christian. Christian, the bastard Robert Winslow," Rebecca spat then slammed her tray soundly against her betrothed's skull since both her hands were now free.

The tall blonde lay crumpled upon the bright, exotic carpeting in a huddled mass while blood oozed from the cut on his forehead. Christian and Henri stood in shocked silence as they glanced from the body on the floor to the delicate woman before them.

"Remind me to never make her mad," Henri said with wide eyes as Christian nodded his head in agreement before Rebecca stepped into her lover's arms and he could feel her trembling.

"Are you all right?" He softly asked as he stroked her hair and placed a chaste kiss to her temple.

"I'll be fine," she shakily said as the adrenaline began to wear off. "I'm so sorry..."

Christian stopped her apology with a gently hug and whispered words of comfort to her ear. "It is not your fault. I understand your dislike of the man," he sighed.

"Henri, I'm sorry. I'll gather my things," Rebecca stated as she looked upon the gruff and loving old man.

Henri just snorted and glanced about the room as the music played. "I saw nothing Mademoiselle, absolutely nothing. Now go home before this beast awakens with a nasty ache and an even worse disposition," he ordered as Rebecca nodded her head in agreement as Christian took her by the hand and led her to gather her cloak and leave the club. The two had barely stepped over the unconscious man when the burly, dim-witted bouncers came to unceremoniously collect the drunk and injured man and toss him into the alley.

The soft whisper of dawn seductively kissed the night sky, as the cobblestone street below Christian's window slowly came to life with vendors and delivery men starting their long day's journey. He sat at the small desk before his high perch and was so self-absorbed that he didn't notice Rebecca stirring from beneath the warm covers of his bed.

Sleep was stubborn to vanquish that morning as Rebecca kept her eyes shut tight and snuggled further under the warm blankets and resisted getting up, instead opting to go back to sleep. But that insistent noise was becoming more bothersome by the second. It was as if someone were tap dancing within the confines of the small room at this horrid time of the morning.

With great reluctance she opened her eyes and blinked rapidly in the low light of morning that was streaming through the windows. It took but a minute to gather her wits and look about the room to find where that infernal noise was coming from. When she did, her heart stopped and she bit her bottom lip as she watched Christian typing away at his desk. The handsome man was so completely enraptured in what he was doing that he didn't notice his lover slowly gather the top blanket about her shoulders while strolling over to see him.

"This is a lovely sight," Rebecca whispered before finding herself standing behind Christian. She gently placed her hand to his shoulder, making him stop typing and glance up into her warm smile. "I see you have been quite busy."

"You could definitely say that," Christian grinned before leaning up to meet Rebecca's morning kiss. "I couldn't sleep last night. The words were just fighting for recognition and I had to write them down before they disappeared," he said excitedly as he placed his hand upon the small stack of papers that sat beside his typewriter.

Rebecca smiled brightly as she toyed with his disheveled hair and watched with great rapture at how the man before her literally glowed with enthusiasm and passion. "What are you writing about?"

"Everyone!" Christian chuckled. "I am writing about us, about myself and Satine, about you and Robert and anyone and everyone who has been in love or assumed they were in love," he explained as she raised an eyebrow in amusement. "The names are changed, but the facts are universal. It is essentially a book that is about the truths of love and beauty."

"Interesting, sweet Christian," Rebecca sighed before leaning forward and placing a kiss against his stubbled cheek. "I'll leave you to your writing," she replied before pulling away.

"Love, could you hand me the books by my bedside...my old journals," he asked as she shivered slightly in the cool morning air and went to do as he requested.

"How many do you have?" She questioned as she placed the three heavy, leather bound and very tattered books within his grasp.

Christian just grinned shyly and couldn't help but wince. "Way too many to lay claim to, love. Way too many," he confessed while placing the dusty volumes to the desk. It had been months since he'd lifted their cover let alone touched them, and now he was beyond ready to start anew.

Rebecca had just turned back around and was going to crawl back in bed and catch a few more hours of sleep when Christian's sharp gasp of breath caught her attention. "Becca...I think I've found it," he muttered.

"Found what?" She quizzed while turning around to find her lover holding the most exquisite diamond necklace in his hands. The early morning light caught the massive piece of jewelry and sent shards of rainbow hued lights to dance about the room around them. "Christian, where did that come from?"

Christian finally looked to the beautiful woman who was now at his side and he couldn't suppress the elation any longer. "Rebecca, this is what Satine left for you. I never thought about this, her jewelry. It was a gift from a rich sovereign who tried to buy her affections with it right before she died. She must have placed it within my journals one day thinking I'd find it long before now. It was all part of her plan..."

"Christian, I don't understand? What plan?" Rebecca asked in confusion as he placed the necklace to the table then stood up and wrapped his arms about his lover and spun her around while she laughed. "Don't you see? Satine knew how to set us both free, Becca. The necklace was your financial freedom from that American bastard and giving you back your life. And for me, it was bringing you into my life to set my heart free once more. She knew, Becca, Satine knew we were meant to be," he grinned contagiously before kissing her fiercely.

Rebecca giggled like a schoolgirl as Christian slowly maneuvered her to the bed and they fell to the tangled sheets amidst laughter and a sudden sense of future. He brushed his hand against the soft fabric of her thin nightgown while he lay on his side and propped himself up to look down upon her face. As his hand gently kneaded her hip he looked longingly into her eyes and lost himself in their depths before leaning down and kissing her passionately.

While his fingers teasingly traced a heated path to her neck, he pulled away from their kiss and looked once more to her eyes and couldn't resist the urge to steal one last kiss. "I have a plan, Becca," he whispered against her lips.

"A plan?" Rebecca asked as she pulled back a little to see him hover above while her fingers brushed the wanton strands of hair from his eyes.

"Paris is no place for either of us. You came looking for something, while I could not leave because of my own demons. Now we must both leave and start over," he stated as she looked at him in awe. "I want to take you to London. I know you've lived most of your life in America, but...I want us to start a life together...I want..."

Rebecca gently placed a fingertip to his lips to quiet his remarks as she serenely looked up to him. "I'd follow you to hell and back if I had to," she vowed before his teal eyes seemed to open his soul to her. "I love you that much, sweet Christian. I'd go anywhere with you."

"Good, then we will take Satine's necklace to Monsieur Winslow and buy out your marriage contract this morning. After that we'll tell Henri he needs to find a new girl, and by the end of the week, we'll catch the boat to London," he explained as his mind raced with thousands of new and better ideas and plans for the future.

"Sweet Christian, that is all well and fine," Rebecca interrupted his musings by bringing a hand to his chin and making him look at her once more. "But there are two things of utmost importance we must broach. First, how will you finish your writing?"

"You worry too much! I can write while we're on the boat and just about anywhere," he grinned as he leaned forward and nipped at her bared throat. "Now what was the second issue?"

"I must admit, it is purely more selfish I assure you," she wickedly smiled while trailing her hand down this body till she was sliding down the front of his pants and watched as he took a ragged breath when she teased his flaccid member. "We can go take care of matters later, because right now I need to hear you chant my name like a prayer when I make you lose control," Rebecca whispered in his ear as she could feel his burgeoning erection beginning to throb in her hand.

Christian heavily rested his forehead against her breast as she continued to pleasure him with her talented touch. "Anything you wish, love. Sweet muse of life!" He loudly exclaimed as her fingernail gently raked against the crown of his shaft. "You are such sweet torture to me," he harshly gasped before delicately tugging at the swelling bud of her nipple through her nightgown, making her moan deep within her throat.

~~*~~

"You will let me read that when you're done, won't you?" Rebecca asked as she watched Christian sit at a makeshift desk in their small hotel room in London.

Christian stopped typing and glanced at the beautiful, nude woman in his bed. They had just spent their first day in London not sightseeing, but making love. He caught his breath as the setting sun cast a golden glow upon her skin as she lay on her side watching him. The sheet, which barely draped across her hip, slid dangerously low and made his desire rage once more. He found he could never get enough of this woman. The more he tasted of her love and of their lovemaking, the more he craved. It was as if she were a sweet, heady drug.

"I promise you, you will be the first to read my work," he vowed before standing up and slowly sliding the suspenders from his bare chest and shoulders then urgently stripping the confining pants from his body. His only thought was to feel himself buried deep within her one more time. Nothing else matter as he stepped from the material, which pooled about his bare feet, and she eyed his turgid penis with a primitive hunger.

The moment he slid upon the bed and the mattress dipped with his weight, Rebecca was beneath him and urging him to his quest. In one swift, fluid move he buried himself deep within her thrumming body and groaned the second he felt her tight core encompass his throbbing shaft.

His short, fast strokes would undo him and he knew he'd not last long. From the sounds of his lover's labored breathing, she would fall from the precipice of pure physical pleasure in no time as well. When his hand teased a pebble nipple he found her body arching into his touch, and the tightening in his abdomen told him his sweet release was just within reach.

His name, which fell freely from her lips as orgasm suddenly wracked her body with tremors, was all it took to push him over the edge. He felt as if the world madly spun about him while his body emptied deep within this beautiful creature beneath him.

With the laughter of lovers, he held himself above her and gently brushed the back of his hand across her cheek in deep adoration. This was right, Rebecca was now free of Robert Winslow. He had his passion for writing back once more, and he dared not think of a future without the woman he loved. Something deep within his soul told him he was finally upon the path that was meant to be and now he would not falter or be swayed again from what his heart truly desired. His future was with Rebecca. Through good or bad times, they'd succeed together and grow stronger for the journey. He could feel it, this was meant to be.