Three days had passed since Georg had so adorably marked their tree with their initials and Nazi soldiers were already swarming throughout the country. There had already been mass arrests across the nation as thousands of Austrians had been caught trying to escape their homeland and the public humiliation of Viennese Jews had already begun, as well as a large concentration camp having been quickly established at Mauthhausen-Gusen, already rumoured to be cruel and barbaric.

The citizens of Austria were very much divided between those who, like Georg, were heartbroken and angered by the news and those who welcomed Hitler with open arms, waving and cheering and celebrating his arrival. The Fuhrer had made a speech in Vienna shortly after the Anschluss had been announced and, much to Georg's dismay, 200,000 cheering Austrian's had gathered at Heldenplatz to celebrate him. Maria had secretly wondered whether the Baroness had been one of them. Georg had called them all cowardly traitors and sent his radio flying across the room.

During the speech, Hitler had announced "the entry of his homeland into the German Reich", asserting that the Nazis came to Austria "not as tyrants, but as liberators."

And the viciousness of these outright lies, the devastating blow of this particular reality, the unfathomable deterioration of his beloved country, had darkened Georg's mood almost to the point that Maria feared he'd reverted back to his old ways, adopting the impenetrable mask once again.

That is, until he got her alone.

During the rare moments that they were unaccompanied, he would suddenly pull her close possessively by the waist or push her up against the nearest piece of furniture to find his comfort, to find a physical release for his frustrations. He would bury his face in her hair and inhale deeply, exploring her exposed skin with bold, loving fingertips and tasting her wherever her clothes left her uncovered. She began to realise, with a dark rush of anticipation, that this was his way of forgetting, of losing himself in her and temporarily distancing himself from the harshness of reality. She was his escape, and he was acting on need rather than logic, responding to a primal physical instinct that required no thinking.

He would lick gently at her mouth until she succumbed to the overwhelming sensations, parting her lips to his insistent tongue and opening her body to him until they were both breathless with need. If he was particularly saddened or angered by a fresh wave of reports on the radio, his advances would be just that bit more assertive, just that bit more desperate, and she found that it thrilled her to her core. These encounters were often wordless, frenzied, heated and utterly exhilarating. And with them came a newfound boldness in Maria, a burning curiosity to explore what was happening to her body, and she found herself selfishly seeking out her brooding Captain in the hopes that he would be in one of his dangerous moods - his only solace being to seek her affection, to possess her body again, eliciting the fire within.

But, much to her frustration, these thrilling exchanges were often over before they'd even begun, the threat of being discovered or the risk of compromising her virtue causing him to slip away from her, his eyes blazing with lust and adoration - leaving her aching for him in a way she hadn't experienced before. Though she was somewhat naive when it came to men she had a feeling that, despite the seeming lack of restraint in Georg's advances, he was still very much holding back. He was reining in his desires, preventing himself from losing all control because he loved her deeply and didn't want to frighten her. And it left her tingling with anticipation to think that she might hold the key to eventually unlocking the powerful passion that she could see in his darkened eyes whenever they were alone.

As she made her way to his study that morning she told herself it was to update him on her success with getting the children ready for their swift departure. But deep down she knew better. Deep down she knew that she was hoping for another secretive, frantic display of need. She couldn't help herself, he was consuming her from the inside and she found she was helpless to stop it.

Her heart began to pound as she knocked on the door and after hearing permission to enter, she popped her head in to find her Captain bent over some paperwork behind his desk. He wore reading glasses that looked so distinguished on his handsome face that her stomach jolted with unexpected delight.

"Ah, Fraulein Maria," he removed his glasses and greeted her with forced formality lest she was accompanied.

"It's okay," she replied, slipping into the room and closing the door, "the children are outside with Max."

His eyes blackened dangerously, burning a hole in her trembling body as he slowly stepped out from behind his desk.

"Good."The solitary word came out thick and laced with lust on his lips, his steely gaze never leaving her face. The intensity of his stare caused the raw fire to unfurl in her stomach as he moved towards her, his face set in stone as he closed the distance between them. Her heart soared and her pulse thundered when his body made contact with hers, pinning her roughly against the door from shoulder to toe, his mouth descending on her neck in a rush of heat.

His tongue swept over her bare skin hungrily, his light stubble etching a path across her neck, and he groaned in relief against her, his hands forming a defiant path from her waist to her breasts.

"Nazi soldiers hung the flag of the Third Reich outside our home this morning," he growled, nipping at her throat and pushing his hips more firmly into her own.

It was all the explanation she required. He was upset, he was angry, and he needed her. Burning all over in anticipation, she took his face in her hands and brought his lips to her mouth, revelling in her own boldness as she was rewarded by his sharp intake of breath. He made the most of her flagrant invitation, biting at her lower lip dangerously until she opened up to him, his tongue curling against her own and causing her knees to give way as he gave an unrepressed moan.

She could feel the evidence of his arousal already pressed against her and she was reminded of how it had felt under her brief touch in their tree. She found herself imagining what it might look like if he exposed it to her, and she blushed deeply as an ache dispersed low in her stomach at the thought.

His hands were everywhere and she could hardly catch her breath but past encounters had taught her that the inevitable moment would soon come when he would stop his advances and she would be left again bereft. She knew they had much to plan, they had far more urgent things to be thinking about - but she wanted to shamefully savour every moment of his addictive caresses before he slipped from her grasp.

Abruptly and without warning, as if he'd heard her thoughts, he broke their frenzied kiss and pulled his body away from hers, his chest heaving and his eyes black with a mix of uninhibited desire and guilt. Unable to trust her legs to support her when he was looking at her that way, she remained leaning against the door, gasping for air and mourning the sudden loss of his touch.

"Maria.." He choked, his voice husky with primal need as he watched her fight for air through her swollen lips, her breasts heaving against her dress in her attempts to breathe through her arousal.

"Forgive me my love," he murmured, his inward battle evident in his eyes and his body rigid with frustration, "I shouldn't."

"But..." She looked at him, crestfallen, unable to verbalise that he absolutely should. She didn't know how to put into words how much she craved him, for fear that it was somehow improper. What would he think of her if she were to ask for his advances, to beg for his touch, his love? Surely it was inappropriate for her to act in such a way.

"But what Maria?" He smirked playfully.

She looked at him, desperate to come up with some words, anything, that would reignite their previous passions. But all she managed to stutter was -

"What... What did you do about the Swastika...outside.."

She hadn't consciously intended to bate him, to darken his mood once again - but when her words caused the smirk to disappear from his face and his eyes to cloud over with the same dangerous heat as before, she found that she was shamelessly thrilled by the sudden change in atmosphere - knowing that he was about to lose control all over again.

Like a man possessed, he closed the gap between them in a single step but, instead of kissing her as she'd anticipated, he spun her round so that she was facing the door, nuzzling into the crook of her shoulder and biting possessively at the pulse he found thundering there.

"I tore it to shreds," he hissed, knocking the breath out of her as she felt his fingers making quick work of the buttons on her dress, his lips lighting a path to her shoulder blades where the material parted.

"What.. What are you doing?" she gasped, her raspy voice sounding completely alien to her as she splayed her fingers against the door in front of her for support. Everything was on fire.

"Tell me to stop darling, we need to stop," he growled against her skin, his hands flying further down the row of buttons and invading the gap in the material where the bare flesh of her waist was exposed. But she couldn't tell him to stop, she wouldn't tell him to stop. She would surely die if they stopped.

Instead all she managed was a moan that caused him to grip her hips firmly and push his body flush against hers.

At her lack of protest, he found himself losing his last bit of resolve, utterly desperate to be as close as was humanly possible to the woman he loved, the woman who brightened his heart in a world full of darkness. Primal instinct took over as he turned her back round to face him, surprised to find her lunging for his lips before he'd even had a chance to catch a breath. Utterly lost to her ministrations, he was barely aware of his mutinous hands tugging the material of her dress down her shoulders, allowing it to pool around her waist. It was only when he heard Maria's cry of surprise that he realised he'd lost control and had frantically shoved the cups of her bra aside, freeing her untouched breasts.

He felt an overwhelming tug in his groin as he drank in the sight of her naked torso, and watched as her skin tightened under his forbidden touch. It was this - this heady, intense, beautiful, dangerous, overwhelming connection between them that made him feel as though he could let go, as though he could allow himself to be nothing more than a man in his rawest form. As though he could forget the grief.

She pulled him back into a frantic kiss, lost to her instinct and panting into his mouth. He knew he should stop, he knew he was most likely overwhelming her. But the beast within, the need for her that went beyond the physical, the misery that could be cured only by her - he found it almost too much to bare. And before he knew it, before he could stop himself, he was sinking to his knees and his mouth was descending upon her, suckling at her nipple like a starved animal and causing a strangled cry to tear from her lungs.

As he tasted her there for the first time, her fingers threading into his hair and pulling his mouth closer, he realised with a sudden and startling guilt that if he didn't put an end to this rapidly escalating encounter then it would be too late. A few more minutes and all reason would be lost, a few more caresses and he'd be taking her virtue against the bookcase. And for that, he would never forgive himself.

On his knees before her, he eventually slowed his exploring lips and stilled his movements, reducing the violent boil to a simmer as he rested his forehead in the valley between her breasts so that he could catch his breath. The tight grip of her fingers in his hair eventually loosened and she began to stroke his head comfortingly instead, understanding his sudden change in behaviour without any need for explanation. It was painfully clear to her that he was simply after her support, her reassurance and, while it was his instinct to seek these things out through sexual intimacy, he wasn't willing to compromise her for the sake of his own selfish needs.

Their breathing eventually slowed and the comfortable silence enveloped them as he clung to her like a vulnerable child, his eyes closed against her chest as her innocent caresses calmed the storm raging within his restless soul. After a few minutes he looked up at her, his saddened eyes conveying the guilt he couldn't speak of, and she found herself bending to kiss him chastely, a reassurance that he'd done nothing wrong.

"I love you," he whispered, eventually pulling himself up into a standing position and helping her re-dress herself, "I'm sorry I keep behaving this way.. I just.."

She put a finger to his lips to silence him, needing him to understand his guilt was entirely unfounded, "I'm entirely yours darling, please don't ever feel sorry for showing me."

She wasn't yet ready to tell him that the thought of giving herself to him completely left her dizzy with longing.

"I actually came to tell you that the children are ready," she turned to find him pouring himself a stiff drink.

"What did you tell them?" He asked, taking a large gulp of the amber liquid to calm himself.

"I told the truth," she explained simply, giving a shrug, "I said we needed to leave because of the Anschluss. They're more observant than we give them credit for," she kissed him gently again.

"What did you tell them about us?" He cocked an eyebrow suggestively, wrapping an arm around her.

She swatted at his shoulder playfully, "I merely told them I'd be helping with the trip. The little ones seemed to think it perfectly sensible that their governess would need to come along, and the older ones knew better than to ask questions," she told him, "I'm convinced Leisl has worked it out but we'll tell them all once we're in Switzerland, like we agreed."

He nodded, hardly believing his luck that, despite all the turmoil in the world, he'd been given Maria as his anchor.

#######################

Not twenty minutes after Maria had left his study, there was another knock at Georg's door and he looked up in bewilderment, half expecting to see the very same visitor coming back for more. He'd seen the way her eyes had burned with an uninhibited passion and he didn't trust himself to resist her for a second time. He hadn't anticipated her eager curiosity, hadn't foreseen the ferocious energy she now unleashed when in his arms, and it had left him utterly floored.

"Come in," he called apprehensively, but he was met with an odd combination of relief and disappointment when it was only Max who stepped over the threshold.

"Ah, Max," he smiled warmly, feeling genuinely glad to see his oldest friend. He feared he'd somewhat neglected the impresario over the last week or so, having been wrapped up in his secretive relationship with Maria and then busy with preparations for their upcoming escape. He hadn't yet told Max of his plans to leave the country, or who with - and he felt a surge of guilt when he realised a stiff formality seemed to have developed between the two of them over the last few days, as though his friend knew somehow that Georg was keeping something important from him.

"I won't beat around the bush Georg," his friend stated uncomfortably, clasping his hands behind his back and avoiding his gaze, "Elsa has returned."

The flames of fury erupted so suddenly in Georg's insides that he thought he might break his knuckles against the closest object. He gritted his teeth to prevent the obscenities from gushing past his lips when he thought back to how she'd so easily manipulated him, lied to him.

"Where," he hissed, the word seeping out like poison.

"The drawing room..."

Without so much as another word of acknowledgement towards his friend, Georg launched from his seat and stormed for the door, shoving past a baffled Max who whirled around in bewilderment before snapping to attention and rushing after him.

"Georg, wait!" Max spluttered, hot on his heels, "wait, there's something you must know first!"

His friend ignored him and continued his purposeful march towards the source of his rage, the epitome of a man on a mission.

"For God sake Georg, slow down!"

But still Georg refused to listen, his stubborn anger forcing one reckless foot in front of the other until he reached the drawing room, poised and ready for battle.

"Elsa!" he barked, discovering the pristine blonde in the corner of the large room with her back to him, staring into the fireplace.

She whirled around to face him, her breezy smile only feeding his fury.

"Georg darling, I told you I'd be back before you even knew I was gone!" she batted her eyelids coquettishly, sashaying towards him, "did you miss me?"

"We need to talk," he demanded coldly, ignoring her over-friendly advances as his fists balled at his sides.

"Indeed we do, Captain."

Much to Georg's surprise it wasn't Elsa's voice that spoke this time, but a deeper, much courser voice that came from the other side of the room - a voice he was sure he recognised. With dread uncoiling in his stomach, his head jerked in the direction of the liquor cabinet to identify the voice's owner, praying that his ears had deceived him.

As his eyes fell on the previously overlooked visitor, Georg was suddenly grateful that Max had appeared by his side because he needed to reach out and grip his friend's shoulder to prevent himself from thundering across the room towards the unexpected guest in a fit of blinding, violent rage.

"I tried to warn you," Max hissed in his ear as the unwelcome visitor dropped an ice cube lazily into his drink with deliberate emphasis before turning to greet them, a self-satisfied smirk etching across his rat-like features.

Zeller.

A/N I hope you all liked this new chapter! thanks so much for all the reviews so far. I never tire of hearing what you all think, it's your kind words that keep me writing!