When Georg and Maria came into the hotel lobby, they were approached by a slim man in a burgundy tuxedo top and black bowtie. They both recognized him as the hotel manager, who had greeted them this morning when they had arrived.
"Madame et Monsieur Von Trapp," he said pleasantly to the couple, then shifted his gaze to Georg as he spoke. "Je regrette de vous informer à la fois que l'extérieur de tempête a causé certains problèmes dans l'énergie électrique vers les étages supérieurs. Alors que nous travaillons sur ce problème, nous avons mis en place un feu et beaucoup de bougies dans votre suite. Nous nous excusons pour ce désagrément pour vous et votre belle épouse."
Maria's gaze, which had been modestly looking at her husband's hand that covered her own, resting in the crook of his elbow, snapped to the manager at the familiar word "belle." She also saw that he was smiling pleasantly at her as he said the last few words. Wishing more than ever that she knew French, all she could do was give a small smile in return and nod.
She felt Georg squeeze her hand – it felt more like a clinch – before replying politely but a little stiffly, "Aucune des excuses sont nécessaires, monsieur. Merci de nous raconter."
"Bonsoir, monsieur. Madame." He nodded and smiled to both before turning his attention to a group of guests who had just come into the lobby.
As they waited in the elevator, Maria looked up at her husband, who's jaw was set a little too tightly for her taste. "Georg, what is it?"
He immediately relaxed his jaw and sighed, keeping his eyes on the golden elevator doors. "The manager is a friendly man, but I don't like anyone besides myself looking at my wife like that and calling her beautiful."
Maria's eyes widened a little and realized what belle must mean. "Beautiful?"
Georg looked down into his wife's eyes. "Beautiful."
Maria couldn't help but blush as she rested her cheek on her husband's shoulder, not in shyness but in gratitude as she entwined her fingers with his.
A loud bing! brought her head up in surprise and the golden doors slid open. She was surprised to see that the lights in the hallway were off and many candles were set on the elegant little tables between the doorways that held vases of lovely flowers. She looked inquiringly at Georg. "Do you know what this is about?"
Georg nodded. "It's why the manager stopped us in the lobby. He told me that, due to the storm, there are some power outages on the upper floors. The staff have lit a strong fire and set up plenty of lit candles in the room for us. I'm not worried, the power always comes back after a thunderstorm."
Maria nodded. "Fine by me."
They came to their room and Georg opened it with their key. Upon opening it, Maria had to keep in a gasp. The room was the same but the lighting was – there was no other word to describe it – so intimate. Everything about it seemed to tell that to her. The combined sounds of the pouring rain on the windows with the merry crackling of the fire in the living room . . . the flicker of fire and candlelight on the walls and furniture . . .
She heard the door shut softly behind them, and Georg's presence beside her. His hand gently took hers and squeezed it in a reassuring way. She looked into his eyes, and saw the same expression there and she knew: he would not do anything with her that she did not want or was not ready for.
This gave her the confidence she so often prayed and sang for.
"I'm just going to go and change into something more comfortable. I'll knock on the bedroom door when the room is free for you. All right?"
"Whatever you wish, Maria," replied Georg, his thumb stroking the skin of the back of her hand.
She turned away from him, her back to him. "First, could you . . .?" she asked softly, and he understood. A moment later, she felt the top of her gown loosening as she heard the faint sound of the zipper going down. She also felt the side of Georg's finger sliding down the bare skin of her back as he slid the zipper down; she repressed a shudder that had nothing to do with cold or fear. An area below her stomach seemed to clench in a heated knot.
"Thank you," she murmured before walking into the bedroom. She felt Georg's eyes on her the entire way.
After his wife had shut the door behind her, Georg exhaled and undid his bowtie then unbuttoned his jacket. He knew that the best way to proceed was not to put any pressure on her, and to let her set the pace.
But just in case . . . Georg grabbed a sign that was resting near the door, opened it, and hung the sign on the outer doorknob before closing it again.
The sign read: Ne Dérangez Pas.
Do Not Disturb.
A little while later, Maria sat in the luxurious, candlelit bathroom, on the edge of the tub, holding a nightgown in each hand. She was in nothing but her silk underwear. A long, ankle-length white robe hung on the bathroom door.
All Maria was doing was listening to the sounds of her husband in the bedroom: the rustles of fabric as he changed, his slow footsteps as he walked around the room, and his absent-minded humming. He was humming their song, and she couldn't help but hum very softly along. Could he hear her? She didn't know, and he didn't acknowledge it to her. Once the tune was finished, Maria heard the sound of the door to the living room closing, indicating Georg had left the bedroom.
She let out a deep breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding. Maria's nerves were kicking up again. But it was different to the nerves she had felt before about this matter. It was different now because she knew, in her heart and soul and body, that she was ready. Ready to become one in body with the man she loved more than life itself. She trusted Georg completely, and knew that the experience would not be like the way she had heard it hinted about the majority of her life.
But her nerves did not have to do with his actions, but his reactions. For a long while after stripping herself of her light blue gown, she had just stared at her reflection in the mirror bathroom, the reflection of her nearly bare body. Never had she looked at a reflection of her naked self for this long. The longer she looked at her body, the more it seemed to distort in her mind's eye into something that Georg would not be satisfied with, given his history and experience.
And these thoughts were nothing, nothing, compared with her complete lack of knowledge. Now she sat on the edge of the bathtub, comparing the two nightgowns she held, one in the left hand and one in the right hand. Two choices for tonight, which would she choose.
If she wore the shorter nightgown, deciding that it would happen tonight, what would follow? What was she supposed to do when she went back into the living room? Just go up to him and ask? Kiss him? Immediately undress? Oh, how she wished there were some sort of guidebook for this!
Perhaps, though . . . this was something that happened . . . organically . . . by instinct . . . All she would need to do was place her trust in her husband and her body, and everything would work out.
Did she trust her husband? Yes. Did she trust her body? Well, it had endured more than any eye could see and it had never let her down before.
Maria's gaze shifted from the more provocative negligee to the more modest nightgown she had worn the night before. Oh, the night before . . . Maria had never been in love with her husband more . . . Before him, no one had placed her before themselves, and did so with pleasure. In her heart, she knew how much he wanted to show his love to her in this way, but he would not do so if she were not ready.
This was how much he loved her.
And she loved him just as much in return.
Taking a deep breath, Maria made her decision and let one of the white nightgowns drop gracefully to the tiled floor.
Georg sat on the intimately cozy sofa just before the roaring fire, completely relaxed. He let his back mould into the back cushion and his head rest, neck bent, at the top of it. His eyes were closed, letting his other senses take over. The pouring rain and crackling fire were an unexpectedly perfect combination. Much like himself and his wife.
She was taking her time changing, and Georg could guess why. He hoped that she would remember the promise he'd made to her the night before: never would he rush her. But he was happy, extremely so. They had been without each other for over a month, and now, Georg could not get enough of his wife's now constant and close presence in his life. He felt that, even if it were weeks before they became one in body, he would be as happy as he was today and yesterday. This was a man who had spent the last five years in suffering, from the moment his first wife became ill to the day she had opened his eyes. She had saved him. He would do anything for her.
When Georg heard the door to the bedroom open softly, he slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes to look at Maria. But she did not look at him as she slowly walked from the doorway to stand right by the fireplace, her gaze on the dancing flames. She looked pensive, as if she were trying to solve the answer to a riddle. She said nothing.
He allowed himself to really look at her profile in silhouette, glowing in the flickering firelight. Her delicate feet were bare, and looked vulnerable. She wore a long, white dressing gown that just brushed the tops of her feet, long sleeves and all. The sash was only tied loosely around her waist, but she kept it securely wrapped around her, her hands clutching the collar close to her neck. She was guarded.
Slowly, he sat up and leaned forward, elbows resting against his knees and his hands clasped together. His wife turned her head to look at him when she heard that soft clapping sound.
"What are you thinking about, Maria?" he asked, gently inquisitive.
She gave a small smile before lowering her eyes to the floor. Was she blushing? "Oh, just . . . trying to work something out." She paused, then raised her head to look at him again. "Perhaps you could help, my sea captain. Say you were lost at sea, alone. You know the destination you want to get to, but you don't have a map of how to get there. What would you do?"
Georg was surprised with this question, but decided to answer as best he could. "Hmm…well, could you give me a few more details of the situation? Say, am I alone or do I have a crew?"
"Alone," replied Maria.
"Day or night?"
"Night."
"Good weather? Clear skies?"
"Oh, yes, one could ask for a better . . . night." He thought Maria might have been about to say something else originally, but possibly not.
"Well, I would read the stars and my compass to determine the correct direction at least in which to go. I would pray the wind would be with me, and trust my instincts."
Maria's pensive and powerful gaze met his eyes, and Georg suddenly felt as if she were searching into his soul. He prayed that she would find whatever she was looking for.
Suddenly her eyes softened, and now she looked vulnerable too. She looked at her husband seated on the couch. He was dressed in his nightclothes, the same he had worn the previous night: silk and navy blue with a matching robe that was open. The three top buttons of his nightshirt were undone. She remembered seeing a bit more of his chest when she had peeked through the bathroom door on the train that very morning, and the unexpected desire . . . to see more.
That emotion filled her now, and she found the courage she needed to trust her instincts.
Without breaking eye contact with him, Maria took a few steps towards him, her hands still clutching her long white robe. Georg could not look away from his wife, the candlelight and firelight dancing on her skin.
With a deep breath, Maria opened her robe and let it fall into a pool of white fabric at her feet.
Maria suddenly felt extremely glad she had chosen the much shorter nightgown; the temperature seemed to have gone up quite a bit, standing in her husband's astonished and hungry gaze.
A/N: I warn you, my readers, this is the final tease, so you all can guess what is coming next. I will make sure to indicate in some ways the parts that go beyond the 'T' rating so those who don't like that kind of stuff can just skip. I promise, I won't leave you hanging for long. Keep up the great reviewing!