Hello everyone! There really is no excuse for why I haven't updated this in so long, but I'm going to stick with the excuse that I lost what I had written when I changed computers and didn't really have the energy to rewrite it until now. But I'm determined to finish this soon, hopefully within the summer. So welcome to those of you who are new to this whirlwind of a story and welcome back to those who stowed this in favorite or alert lists years ago and are shocked that I'm still alive.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I have written this purely for my own enjoyment and thought I would share something that I love with you.
Please, enjoy and review.
Mark pushed open the door of their hotel room, looking back at his new bride. "One last tradition to honor," he said with a smile, before sweeping Meredith up in his arms.
"What are you doing?" Meredith yelped as she clutched at his shoulders.
"Carrying you across the threshold. That's what the groom is supposed to do, isn't it?"
"Across the threshold of our house, not our hotel room."
"Well, I couldn't very well do that in front of all of Manhattan, could I?" he said as he walked into the sitting room and deposited Meredith on the plush settee.
"I suppose not," Meredith conceded, suddenly becoming very self-conscious as she looked around the room. The sitting room doubled as a small dining room, with a table for two pulled up in front of a fireplace. The fire roared, chasing off the chill in the spring evening air. Short hallways led to suites on either side of the sitting room, even though the suite to the left only included a dressing room and bathroom. The bedroom connected to the right suite, Mark's suite. That would make sleeping arrangements interesting, Meredith thought to herself, chewing on her lip.
"Meredith," Mark started, but was interrupted by Christina's entrance from the left suite.
"Miss, I have all of your things ready if you would like to change now," Christina stated plainly, avoiding looking at either of them.
"Go take a bath, change, do whatever you need to do," Mark said, helping her to her feet. "I'll order some dinner. Meet me here whenever you're ready."
"Thank you, Mark," Meredith sighed, following Christina into the dressing room. Flickering candlelight and a warm bath sprinkled with rose petals greeted her in the bathroom. She gratefully shed her shoes that had been pinching her toes since that morning and filled her lungs with a generous breath as Christina loosened her corset and removed the heavy dress, pulling the layers of tulle and lace off of her small body. She stepped into the water, letting the warm water caress her aching muscles. She slid down in the water until it reached her chin, her golden hair fanning out around her. Placing her hands on her growing stomach, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, trying to ignore the growing knot in her stomach.
After what seemed like only moments, Christina entered with a large white towel. "Mr. Sloan wanted me to tell you that your supper has arrived."
"Of course," Meredith murmured, stepping lithely out of the bathtub and into the waiting towel. As she dried off, Christina retrieved her nightclothes. As with everything else, no expense had been spared on her nightgown. The silk and lace nightgown was detailed with small seed pearls around the neckline, which dipped generously on her growing cleavage. The gown gathered at her waist and dropped to the floor, trailing slightly behind her. She pulled the matching robe on over the gown and sat at the dressing table while Christina dressed her hair, pulling it back into a loose chignon. Staring at her pale face and large eyes in the mirror, Meredith bit at her lips and reached up to pinch her cheeks, hoping to put some color back into her face. Christina observed her alarmed look and shaking hands as she moved her hands deftly through Meredith's hair.
"Are you alright, Meredith?" she asked quietly.
"I'm fine," Meredith said a little too forcefully, earning a raised eyebrow from Christina. "I'm just nervous, I guess."
"Mr. Sloan is a fine gentleman. I'm sure he will be a loving husband."
"Yes, I'm sure he will be," Meredith affirmed, her eyes dropping to her shaking hands in her lap. Without any further conversation, Meredith rose and placed a hand on Christina's arm, giving her a slight smile before exiting into the sitting room.
Mark sat facing the fire, still in his dress pants and shirtsleeves. He had removed his bowtie, opened the top few buttons of his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves, revealing toned forearms. Meredith blushed slightly, embarrassed that she was ogling him. Even though, she supposed that she was allowed, now that they were married.
She padded lightly up to the table, startling him as she reached the table.
"Woman, you move like a cat," he chuckled as he lifted to his feet, now fleeting fear dilating his pupils, making his eyes even darker in the shadows from the firelight.
"Sorry," she murmured, sinking into the seat that he pulled out for her. She kept her eyes trained on the meal before them, a generous pork loin with vegetables and roasted potatoes. A chilled bottle of champagne sat on the table as well, with strawberries dipped in chocolate in a silver dish next to it.
"The champagne was courtesy of my father, the strawberries of my sisters."
"I guess you'll be enjoying those."
"You can have the strawberries-"
"I'm allergic."
"Oh," he stated blankly, "I guess I will be, then. Do you want me to order you another dessert?"
"No, I'm fine," she muttered, picking up her utensils and started to cut her meat into tiny pieces. She just needed to keep her hands moving.
Ten minutes later, the pork was cut up into as many pieces as it could be and she had started onto the green beans and potatoes. Mark, having already finished, observed her over a glass of champagne.
"You don't need to pulverize your food, you know? You can just say you're not hungry. Even though I will object to that since I know you haven't eaten today. That can't be healthy, for you or…" He trailed off.
"Are you going to force me to eat, doctor?" she tried to say lightly, but her voice wavered.
"No, but I will ask you forcefully. At least take a few bites. I don't want you passing out on me again. If you do, I will call an actual doctor."
Fear lit Meredith's eyes. "Please, don't do that," she pleaded.
"Meredith, I'm kidding," he quickly said, grasping her trembling hand in his. "Just eat something, please."
She conceded, shoving a few bites of food into her mouth. She forced herself to swallow around the lump in her throat. Mark watched each bite she took, making her feel like a child with a hovering nurse again. When she couldn't eat anymore, she looked up at him. "Have I eaten enough for you now, husband?" she asked with a distinct sharpness in her voice that he chose to ignore. They had both had a long day.
"Let's go to bed," he said softly, rising to his feet and walking towards the bedroom. Meredith took in a shaky breath and followed him.
A smaller fire lit the bedroom, decorated in soft pink and beige tones. A large bed was pushed against the far wall, surrounded by a canopy. A larger version of the plush settee in the sitting room sat against the opposite wall. A small sitting area stood near the fireplace.
Mark gestured towards the bed. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I'm going to change." With that, he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
This was it, she thought. She hadn't thought Mark would expect her to sleep with him, especially with her being pregnant with Derek's child. She had thought that he would be disgusted with her, that this night wouldn't happen until after the child was born, if it ever happened at all.
But she couldn't forget his reputation as the most eligible bachelor in Manhattan. She supposed that he had expectations.
Squaring her shoulders, she untied her robe, letting it fall and pool at her feet. She was just pulling the blankets back when Mark reemerged in his undershirt and drawers, the tight material outlining every defined muscle on his chest and legs. He walked over to the other side of the bed and slipped under the covers, keeping his eyes off of her. She swallow once, wishing her mouth wasn't so dry, before reaching up to push the straps of her gown off of her shoulders. The silk whispered to the ground just as Mark looked up at her. His cheeks flushed crimson as he quickly turned away.
"What are you doing?" he asked gruffly, swinging his legs out of the bed so his back was to her.
"I…" Meredith stammered, hastily grabbing her robe and pulling it up over her exposed breasts. "I was getting into bed."
"Like that?" he asked through gritted teeth, trying to keep his tone even and his faculties, and other things, in check.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, trying to keep the tears out of her eyes. "I thought you wanted…"
"You thought I wanted to sleep with you?" He turned back on her, his eyes hard against hers.
Meredith's head suddenly felt so heavy as hot tears pricked at her eyes. "I thought… our wedding night… I'm so sorry." She stumbled over her words as tears began to fall. Mark's harsh gaze softened as he realized her confusion. He moved towards her, trying very hard not to look at the outline of her curves that the robe clutched to her chest left visible, the firelight dancing over her pale skin and kissing it golden. Placing his hand underneath her chin, he gently wiped the tears away with his thumbs.
"I never want you to feel that you have to sleep with me out of obligation. Wedding night be damned. If I am ever to share your bed, it will be because you want me to."
"But I have ruined everything," Meredith cried, another wave of tears coursing from her eyes.
"My dear, why?" he asked, confusion clouding his face.
"I was supposed to be yours and only yours tonight. I was supposed to be pure for you. Instead, I wear this white gown to bed while carrying another man's child. You should shame me, Mark. You should cast me out like a whore. And yet here you are, not even taking what is rightfully yours."
"Meredith, you are not something to be claimed. And I don't give a damn about your white gown. You have your past and I have mine and they will follow us into our present. But we can only live right now, together. Meredith, you may be my wife now, but you are first and foremost my friend. I have already told you that I will love you and your child to the best of my ability. Don't doubt me now, after we've already made the plunge." His face lightened as he smiled. "I mean, dear God, I've already gotten a job to support you and the little tyke. I can't go back now."
Meredith laughed through her tears, sniffling slightly.
"Now, to save us both any further embarrassment, hand me your robe." She looked at him in shock. He chuckled slightly. "Madame, I just told you I am not going to sleep with you. I'm hardly going to leave you without any clothes. Let me hold up your robe for you while you get your nightgown in place. I will even close my eyes."
He did as he said he would and she quickly replaced her nightgown. Walking into his still outstretched arms, she wrapped her arms around him, causing him to open his eyes in shock.
"Thank you, Mark," she whispered against his chest.
Smiling down at her, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Let's get some sleep," he whispered.
They both took up their places in the large bed, a veritable summit of blankets and pillows between them. Mark blew out the candles and they were plunged into relative darkness, only relieved by the dying embers in the fireplace.
"Mark," Meredith started, looking up at the canopy above her head.
"Hmm," he groaned sleepily.
She hesitated for a moment, not quite believing that she was about to ask this question. But he had seen her naked, even if it had only been for a moment. She supposed that there could be no secrets between them now.
"Do I disgust you? Not me, per se, but the fact that I slept with Derek?"
"Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?"
"I guess, I just want to know…" she trialed off.
"What?"
"Would you want to sleep with me? Even knowing about Derek and I?"
He rubbed a hand over his face, not quite sure what to think of the woman who lay beside him. He couldn't help but think that someday, maybe not soon, but someday, he might be able to love her, both with his body and with his heart.
"If you ever invite me into your bed, Mrs. Sloan, I will gladly accept." He glanced over at her slyly. "Especially after that little show you just gave me."
Meredith was giggling so hard, she forgot to be scandalized. Picking up one of the many pillows between them, she playfully hit him on the head with it. He snatched it away and threw it across the room, his fingers grazing over her wrist as he did.
"Now that that sufficiently awkward question has been answered, shall we go to sleep?"
"Yes, please," Meredith said through a yawn. Shimmying down under the covers, she let out a contented sigh. "Good night, Mr. Sloan."
Mark glanced over at her peaceful face as sleep overtook her. "Good night, Mrs. Sloan."
"What in God's name do you think you were doing?" William yelled, bearing down on Derek. He sat on one of the couches in William's study, pressing a wet cloth to his swelling eye. He hunched under William's furious gaze. "Getting into a fight with Mark during his wedding reception? You'll be the joke of the city."
"I had too much to drink, Father. I apologize," Derek muttered in explanation.
"That was more than a fight caused by intoxication. You never hit Mark unless you have a really good reason to do so."
Derek just sat there in brooding silence.
"Is this about that Grey girl? Are you jealous?"
"Of course not!" Derek exclaimed.
"Because you have been far too close with her ever since she arrived here. Don't think that I haven't seen how you look at her, or how she is the first person you talk to when you arrive at parties. And now that Mark has her, you're jealous. You've always been jealous of the things Mark got that you couldn't have."
"That is ridiculous!" Derek shouted, pulling the cloth away so he could glare at his father with both eyes.
"Derek, I have taught you better than this. You went to Harvard, for Christ sake! You're not a dumb boy. But I swear to God, if you let some school-boy fancy for this now married woman destroy everything that I have built for you, you will rue the day you ever set eyes on Meredith Sloan. I am a very powerful man, Derek, and I can make your life a living hell."
Derek just sank back into resigned silence.
"Now, I've let you skulk around this city like a fop and spend my money for long enough. You are going to come to work with me on Monday, you are going to sit down at a desk, you are going to do whatever task I give you, and you are going to like it. Am I clear?"
"As crystal," Derek replied cheekily.
"Good. Now go clean yourself up. You smell like bad scotch."
Meredith awoke to the sun streaming in on her face and found herself more comfortable and content than she had been in weeks.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she was surprised to find herself pressed to Mark, her head resting on his chest. The pillows and blankets that had been between them at the start of the night were strewn on the floor and Mark's arm had found its way around her waist. He murmured in his sleep before shifting, pulling Meredith closer to her. She tensed, trying to figure out how she could get up without waking him. She carefully lifted his arm and started to move it away from her, but he awoke with a start. Seeing their arrangement, he quickly snatched his arm away, avoiding her eyes.
"Sorry," he muttered, his face coloring in embarrassment.
"It's alright. It was quite comfortable, actually," she replied with a smile.
"I'm glad I was a sufficient pillow for you. Even though, it seems that the circulation in my arm was sacrificed for your comfort."
"I apologize. Even though, that wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't had your arm around my waist."
"Yes, well," he stammered, "it seems that even in my sleep, I am drawn to beautiful women."
Meredith just shoved his shoulder in response. Before she could pull away, Mark grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.
"Our train for New Orleans leaves in two hours," Mark said as he slipped out of bed. "I'm going to ring for some breakfast, and then we shall depart." With one last smile, he left the room. Meredith fell back on the pillows, a slight smile toying at her lips, as she thought that just maybe, married life wasn't going to be that bad.