He couldn't stay. That much was a given. His mind was all over the place. He couldn't concentrate on anything but replaying the look in her eyes as they had broken apart, the way she'd felt in his arms as they'd danced. He felt like he couldn't breathe, like he was suffocating. He fidgeted with his collar in a fruitless attempt to catch his breath. He needed to get away, so he could calm himself down, and mentally shake himself straight.
He gently placed his napkin back on the table and pushed his chair back to stand and leave the dining table. An excuse formulating on his lips, he realized Elsa was deep in conversation with the gentleman next to her, and didn't even register his movements.
"Pardon me," he muttered to no one in particular, as he quickly and as unobtrusively as possible made his way out of the dining room and into the foyer. His guests seemed to be enjoying themselves, he noted, and not one of them gave any indication that they noticed his hasty exit. Unbeknownst to him, one set of eyes did happened to catch his retreating figure.
Georg took a deep breath and continued his retreat. His study. He could take a moment or two to get himself back under control there. Maybe a measure of a spirit stronger than the champagne he'd already had, too. He just desperately needed a chance to clear his head, he told himself.
But his head had been full for weeks now, if he were to be honest. Full of her. She filled his mind, day and night. By day he'd found himself seeking her out, under the guise of looking to check in on his children. True, he was thoroughly enjoying reconnecting with his children after having spent the past few years emotionally and physically removed from them. Yet just as much as he wanted to see them, he craved her company. To hear her melodic laughter. To see her gorgeous smile. But also to genuinely just talk with her. He'd found himself becoming almost giddy every evening as the time approached when he knew she would find him to check in and update him on his children's day. They rarely only talked about the children though. Often, he'd been floored to hear himself telling her stories from his past, sharing anecdotes, favorite memories, and regaling her with some of his Naval adventures. She would share details of her life at the Abbey, and a bit about her life before. He told her things he hadn't told anyone in years. He realized he felt more comfortable sharing his thoughts with her than the woman who was practically his fiancee in all but name. Elsa never truly seemed interested in his thoughts. Mostly she seemed to prefer to hear her thoughts and opinions from his mouth. And for a time, that had been enough for him. But not now. It was different now. Now, there was Maria.
And at night, she consumed him. His dreams had been nothing but Maria for weeks now. Dreams the likes of which he hadn't had in years. Dreams that shook him to his core, and filled his blood with a fire he hadn't thought would ever reignite. Dreams that left him hopelessly aroused and aching for her. Why, just last night he'd dreamt of her lithe naked body, elegantly and effortlessly stretched alongside his, their legs casually intertwined, his hands full of her, his ears echoing with her gentle, sensual moans, his mouth roaming down her neck, leaving kisses like breadcrumbs from the hollow of her throat lower, lower, lower….
Damnit man, get a grip, he mentally chided himself as he strode across the foyer to the hallway to his study, wiggling the fingers of his left hand as he often did when agitated. A moment to gather his thoughts, steel himself back to acting the gracious host, and a stiff drink. Yes, that was what he needed. He knew he would end up back in his study later tonight, though, after he was finally free of his guests. He already knew he would spend a significant amount of time tonight replaying the dance they'd shared. How she'd felt pulled close to him. How she'd looked at him. How his chest had constricted and his stomach had clenched when he looked deep into her eyes and realized not just that she profoundly affected him, but that she was affected by him. He'd seen her color rise as she'd staggered back from him. He'd seen the look in her eyes, a mixture of surprise, confusion, longing, and…lust? Had he detected lust in her eyes, or was that just him hoping to see it there? Did she feel something for him? What did she feel for him? What did he truly feel for her, for that matter? All things he would ruminate on later.
Later, he reminded himself. Now was the time for clearing his head of her. Now was the time for discipline. He'd prided himself on his discipline.
He reached the door to his study, and was glad to realize he'd made it without being stopped by a guest. Hopefully he'd be able to reign himself in and return before anyone asked any questions. He felt in his pocket for the key to his study, as he always locked it. No one had the key except him. However, finding no key in his pocket, he groaningly remembered a brief exchange with Max where he'd asked to borrow the key, and use of his study for a quick business chat with a potential backer. Georg's brow furrowed as he stood in front of the door to his own study, and was suddenly unsure as to whether or not he could, or should enter. He hadn't passed anyone on his walk from the dining room to the study, and he vaguely recalled seeing Max at the table, so his study wasn't in use. Reaching for the doorknob, Georg suddenly found himself hoping Max had been careless in his use of the study and not locked it. The knob twisted in his hand, and Georg smiled to himself. Unlocked.
Georg opened the door quickly and stepped inside, turning to shut the door swiftly behind him. He rested his forehead against the cool, smooth wood of the door and exhaled a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Safe.
Continuing to press his forehead against the door, he briefly allowed himself a moment to indulge in thinking about her. Their dance had left him unsettled. Hell, most of his interactions with her left him unsettled. But it was an unsettled that he liked. He might not truly understand the extent or depth of his feelings, but he knew he wanted to continue to feel it. Yet right now was really not a convenient night for deep contemplation about his feelings for a woman who was in his employ. A woman who was promised to God for that matter! That fact alone should have slammed shut the door to whatever he felt, or thought he felt about her. And yet…
"Oh, who am I kidding," he wondered aloud. He sighed heavily and turned to take the few short steps to his sideboard holding the decanter of his amber liquid of choice. He hastily snatched the decanter, and poured a measure into a lowball glass. Placing the decanter back down with a clatter, he grabbed the glass and raised it to his lips. Taking a large gulp, he savored the sting as it washed down his throat. Lowering his hand a bit, he turned to walk over to take a seat on the comfortable leather couch he loved, drink in hand.
And then he froze. He was not alone. Standing stock still in front of his desk, looking decidedly like a startled doe, eyes wide with shock, was Maria herself. Georg felt his jaw drop as he stared unbelievingly at her, standing there in his study