Текст книги "Gabriel's Inferno"

Автор книги: Sylvain Reynard

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 37 страниц)

Julia moaned even louder, and Gabriel continued, moving her hair away from her shoulders so he could expand his exploration. He poured out the lightest of kisses, covering her neck until he finally took the edge of her earlobe in his mouth and drew on it slightly, tracing the edge delicately with his tongue.

“If I were to taste your mouth now, I couldn’t answer for the consequences. So I can only adore this beautiful neck. I know that in a few seconds I will have to pull away, before the temptation becomes too much.

It’s too much already. You have no idea how much I want you.” Gabriel’s voice was raspy, and he seemed to be breathing rather fast.

Julia felt her legs grow weak, and she started to sway…And that’s when the electric kettle began to whistle at them. Gabriel pressed a chaste kiss to her cheeks and went to make tea, while Julia sat down shakily on one of the chairs. Her heart was thumping so loudly she thought she was having a heart attack. She leaned her head forward, holding it in her upturned hands.

If I’m this unglued while he’s kissing me, what am I going to be like when he…

“What kind of tea, darling?” Gabriel’s voice held only the smallest edge of amusement as he watched her try to catch her breath.

Of course, the only reason why he was able to catch his breath so quickly was because he’d walked away. And he was far more skilled than she at hiding his feelings, except upon visual inspection.

“Lady Grey. It’s in the tin by the teapot.” Julia’s voice was shaky.

“I’m not a tea drinker, so it won’t be as good as yours. But hopefully it will be potable.”

She arched an eyebrow at his choice of adjectives, but politely thanked him when he placed the pot of tea, teacup, and saucer in front of her.

“I bought a few things for dinner. Have you eaten yet?”

“I had soup.”

“Julianne.” He sat next to her and gave her a scolding look. “Soup isn’t a meal.”

“Yes, I believe I’ve heard that before.”

She rolled her eyes, and Gabriel laughed.

The first items he took from the bag were a bottle of wine and a Rabbit corkscrew.

“Do you have wineglasses?”

“Yes.” Julia stumbled over to her small kitchen area to fetch them.

She still had questions about Gabriel’s relationship to alcohol, especially in light of his past. But she had decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, for the present.

When she returned to the table, she read the wine label: Serego Alighieri Vaio Armaron Amarone2000.

“Is that who I think it is?” She extended a finger toward the bottle.

Gabriel took her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. “Yes. Dante’s son bought the vineyard in the fourteenth century, and the Masi family still produce wine from it.” He sat back in his folding chair and regarded her quietly. She seemed awestruck.

“I didn’t know his family had a vineyard.”

“It’s a very good wine. Although in light of our past, perhaps you find the choice overly sentimental?”

She shook her head. “No. No, I don’t.”

“I had to work late, but I wanted to have dinner with you, so I went to Pusateri’s and ordered take out. There’s manicotti, Caesar salad, and a loaf of bread. How’s that?”

Julia looked at the array of food set in front of her and immediately felt hungry. “What are these?” She pointed to a cellophane package of cookies that had a reindeer on the label.

Gabriel grinned. “Lime cookies from the Dancing Deer Baking Company. They’re my favorite. Why don’t you let me look after this while you dry your hair and drink your tea?”

He reached out his hand to run it through Julia’s long, wet curls.

“Why do you keep feeding me?”

His hand stilled. “I told you, I like giving you pleasure.” He withdrew his hand, his expression quizzical. “This is how a man acts when he is interested in a woman, Julianne. He’s attentive and anticipatory.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “Perhaps I’m trying to indicate that if I am this attentive with respect to sating your culinary longings, I’ll be even more attentive with respect to satisfying other – ah – appetites.”

Julia flushed immediately, and Gabriel touched her cheek with his hand. “Your skin is lovely,” he breathed. “Like a rose in first bloom.” He gazed at her admiringly. “Rachel stopped blushing when she started sleeping with Aaron.”

“How do you know?”

“As I recall, we all noticed it. One minute she was reading The Little Princeand the next she was buying lingerie.”

Julia chewed at her lip thoughtfully. “I loved that book.”

“We need to see with our hearts and not our eyes,” said Gabriel.

“Exactly,” she murmured. “I like the part when the fox talks to the prince about the process of taming. And the fox decides that he wants to be tamed, to be the prince’s fox, even though doing so will make him vulnerable.”

“Julianne, I think you should dry your hair now.”

He removed his hand from her face and stood up quickly, turning his back on her allegedly so that he could prepare dinner, leaving Julia to wonder what had so disquieted him.

* * *

After dinner, they found themselves sitting on her bed as if it were a sofa. Gabriel propped up some pillows against the wall and leaned back, putting his arm around her waist.

“I’m sorry it’s so uncomfortable,” she apologized meekly.

“It isn’t uncomfortable.”

“I know you hate this place. It’s small and cold and – ” She gestured to the room with a wave of her hand.

“I will regret forever what I said to you when you were kind enough to invite me in. I don’t hate this place. How could I?” He interlaced his fingers with hers. “This is where you are.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for making everything beautiful just by being.”

She smiled as he brought their hands up to his mouth and kissed each of her fingers tenderly, one by one.

“Now tell me about your meeting with Katherine.”

Julia had to wait a moment until her fingers stopped tingling before she began. “She was exactly as you described. But she was very happy I’d read Charles Williams. I think that warmed her up a little. She agreed to be my advisor.”

“And what did she think of your proposal?”

“Um, she thought it was derivative and so she suggested that rather than comparing courtly love and lust, I should compare aspects of the friendship between Virgil and Dante with the theme of courtly love. So rather than discussing lust and love, I’ll be discussing love and friendship.”

“Are you happy with that?”

“I think so. We decided that I should take Professor Leaming’s Aquinas seminar next semester because it’s going to be on love and friendship.”

Gabriel nodded. “I know Jennifer Leaming. She’s quite good.”

Julia fidgeted with the duvet.

He placed his hand over hers. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No hiding, Julianne. What is it?”

“I e-mailed Professor Leaming a week ago to ask if she would be my director. That was before you and I had our, um, conversation.”

Gabriel’s eyes grew momentarily cold. “And what did she say?”

“She didn’t.”

“Jennifer is very busy. She’s untenured, and I doubt she has time to supervise graduate students outside of the Philosophy Department.” He paused. “When I told you I would find you another director, did you not believe me?”

Julia squirmed. “I believed you.”

“Then why did you feel the need to go behind my back?”

“I wanted to see if I could fix it on my own.”

Gabriel pressed his mouth into a hard line. “And how did that work out?”

“It didn’t.”

“Sooner or later you are going to have to trust me. Particularly about things having to do with the university. Or this isn’t going to work.”

She nodded, chewing the inside of her mouth slightly. “Tell me about your meeting with Christa.”

“I’d rather not. She’s a pest.”

Julia tried in vain to smother a smile.

“She’s far too busy trying to rescue her dissertation proposal to trouble us. I won’t accept her project as it is, which means she has to find another supervisor. And as you know, I’m the only professor supervising theses on Dante at the moment.”

“So Christa is out?”

“I told her today that I would give her until December eighteenth to turn in an acceptable proposal. And that was a gift. So don’t worry about her anymore. Her academic future hangs by a thread, and I’m holding the end of it.”

Good, thought Julia.

“I had an interesting conversation with my lawyer today.”

She took another sip of wine and waited for him to continue.

“He said that he’s going to look into the non-fraternization policy, but he strongly warned against any kind of romantic relationship with you while you’re in my class.”

She reddened. “Does that include kissing?”

“Assuredly, but he pointed out that the university is concerned primarily with sexual activity. So as long as we’re chaste and discreet this semester, I don’t think we’ll have a problem.”

Julia reddened even further and looked down into her wine glass.

“So you’ll have to keep your hands to yourself, Miss Mitchell, until I’ve turned your grade in. After that, well…” He grinned at her suggestively.

“You can’t be kissing me one minute and grading my essay the next.”

“At this point, I couldn’t be objective about your work even if I tried.

I’ll have Katherine grade it.”

“Won’t she find that peculiar?”

He smiled. “I’ll make an excuse. And I’ll buy her a bottle of sixteen-year-old Lagavulin. It would resurrect the dead.”

“You’re still proposing fraternization – of a sort.”

Gabriel cupped her face in his hands. “But it’s less serious than an affair and therefore puts us at much lower risk with the administration. I have my lawyer looking at all the loopholes.”

“I don’t want to be a loophole.”

“I don’t view you as one. Do you want me to stay away for five weeks and not see you at all? Not hold your hand or put my arms about you? Is that what you want?”

Julia thought for a moment, and the idea made her ill. She shook her head.

“I’d like to continue to see you, as friends of course. You’re still deciding if you can trust me, and we’re still getting to know one another. What the university doesn’t know won’t hurt us.” Gabriel took her wine glass and placed it alongside his on the card table. When he returned, he pulled her so that she was almost sitting in his lap.

“We can pretend we’re both in high school and living in Selinsgrove.

We’ve just begun dating, and because we’re good little teenagers and slightly old-fashioned, we’ve taken a vow of chastity.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have a vivid and detailed imagination when it comes to you,” he whispered. “And maybe I wish we’d been teenagers together.”

“So this is headed toward an affair?”

Gabriel was quiet for a moment.

“I had in mind something less tawdry. But Julianne, much of what our relationship will or won’t be rests entirely with you.”

She nodded to indicate that she’d heard him, and they both fell silent.

Eventually she closed her eyes, breathing in his scent and feeling strangely calmed by the regular rhythm of his heartbeat. Gabriel stroked her hair and whispered to her in Italian.

“Julianne?”

Silence.

“Julia?” He leaned down only to discover that she’d fallen asleep. He didn’t want to wake her. But he also didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye, and he wanted her to lock the door behind him.

He lifted her carefully and placed her underneath the sheets and comforter, hoping that she would wake up. But she didn’t. Gabriel regarded her little form, the way her chest rose and fell with her gentle breathing, her lips slightly parted. She was pretty. She was sweet.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent a chaste evening with a beautiful woman who wasn’t a relative. A chaste evening that was fraught with desire and passion and an overwhelming need…He wanted her.

But the old interior conflict loomed large in his mind. He did not wish to corrupt her, to make her like him. He did not want to make her vulnerable or cause her to bleed in any sense. He seriously doubted his ability to be involved with her physically and not lose control, for the mere sight of her in a towel had almost shattered his resolve.

This is what comes of years of unbridled lust – now you don’t even have the ability to court her like a gentleman. You want to make love to this girl without lapsing into fucking, but can you? Can you be sexually involved with her without treating her like a pretty toy that has been constructed solely for your carnal satisfaction? Can you love without sin?

Gabriel’s thoughts troubled him as he stared at the rosy-cheeked lamb that trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms, oblivious to the passion that boiled in his veins. He emptied his pockets and turned off his iPhone before heading to the washroom. He turned down the baseboard heater, as promised, and quickly stripped to his t-shirt and boxer briefs. He took a moment to inventory Julia’s shampoo and bath products, committing their names to memory so that he could be sure to stock his bathroom for her next visit. He definitely preferred vanilla to any other scent. Although vanilla and chocolate…

He turned out the lights and climbed into her twin bed. It was far too small for two persons; in truth, it made Gabriel almost nostalgic for the residence hall beds at Princeton or Magdalen College. Almost. Those beds were barely tolerable for sleeping and certainly far from ideal for any kind of sexual activity. It was fortunate that such activity was off the menu for this evening.

As Gabriel rolled to his side, his hand fastened on a small, smooth piece of paper that was wedged underneath the pillow. He retrieved it and held it up against the sliver of moonlight that was streaming in from behind the curtain. What he saw more than surprised him for in his hand was an old photograph of him from his Princeton days. He recognized the varsity rowing jersey he was wearing.

How did she get this? How long has she had it?He slid the photo back under the pillow, the ends of his mouth turning up in wonder. Something akin to hope began to warm his insides.

He’d never been a fan of spooning; it was an act far too intimate for him. But tonight it was what he wanted. He curved his body around hers and stretched his left arm over her waist, placing a light hand on her stomach. They fit together perfectly. Gabriel sighed with contentment at the soft warmth of the young woman he treasured in his arms, his nose buried in long, soft, vanilla-scented hair.

* * *

Sometime around three o’clock in the morning, Julia opened her eyes.

A strong arm tightened its hold on her, and the scent that was Gabriel’s filled her head. She was wrapped in his arms, his chest against her back.

Although he’d moved seemingly in reaction to her anxiety, the sound of his breathing indicated that he was still asleep.

Julia looked at him in the darkness. How many years had she waited just to be sleeping at his side once again? She shifted slowly, so that she was lying on her back. With his eyes closed and a look of peace on his face, he looked much younger. Almost like a boy – a gentle boy with brown hair and pink lips who smiled sweetly in his sleep. Julia sighed her aesthetic appreciation.

His eyes flickered open. It took a moment for him to be able to focus on her in the dark, but when he did, he leaned over to press his lips against hers.

“Are you all right?” he whispered against her mouth.

“You’re still here.”

“I won’t leave you again without saying good-bye. Can’t you sleep?”

“I thought this was a dream.”

Gabriel smiled at her in the darkness. “Only for me.”

“You’re gorgeous, Gabriel. You always were, you know.”

“Nature’s cruelty – the fallen angel retains his beauty. But I’m ugly on the inside.”

She kissed him back firmly, trying to convey the truth of the words she was about to speak before they were audible. “Someone who is ugly on the inside wouldn’t have bought me a messenger bag and kept his generosity a secret.”

Gabriel stared at her. “How long have you known?”

“Rachel told me.”

“And did it make you more likely to accept it, or less likely?”

“At the time, only half and half.”

“I noticed you don’t use it anymore,” he whispered, reaching up to push the hair back from her face.

“I’ll use it again.”

“So you like it?”

“Very much. Thank you.”

He nuzzled his nose lightly against hers and smiled. “You were merely beautiful at seventeen, Julianne. You’re stunning now.”

“Everyone is pretty enough in the dark,” she whispered.

“No, they are not.” He kissed her before pulling back abruptly, willing himself to stop.

She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart and trying not to drink too deeply of the energy that charged between them.

“It just occurred to me, Julia, that I only seem to get honest answers out of you whenever we share a bed.”

She blushed, and even though it was dark, Gabriel knew it. He chuckled softly. “Why do you think that is?”

“When we’re in bed, you’re gentle with me. I feel…safe.”

“I don’t know how safe it is to be with me, Julianne, but I promise that I will try to be gentle with you always. Especially in bed.”

She hugged him tightly and nodded against his chest, as if she understood the full implication of what he was saying. But she didn’t. How could she?

“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?”

“Yes. I need to call my father to give him the good news.”

“I promised Richard I’d come home. Would you…consider flying out with me?”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.” He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “It isn’t going to be a pleasant holiday.”

“I don’t like Thanksgiving. But Grace always made it nice.”

“Wasn’t it nice with your family?”

Julia squirmed. “We didn’t really celebrate it.”

“Why not?”

“I did all the cooking unless my mother was in recovery. And whenever I tried to do something special…” She shook her head.

Gabriel tightened his arms around her. “Tell me,” he whispered.

“You don’t want to hear this.”

She tried to turn away from him, but he held her fast. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just trying to know you.”

The tone of Gabriel’s voice was such that it tugged at her, more powerfully than his words or his arms. She drew a deep breath.

“During my last Thanksgiving in St. Louis, Sharon was on a bender with one of the boyfriends. But stupid me, I decided to cook a Martha Stewart recipe for stuffed roast chicken, twice-baked potatoes, and vegetables.” She stopped.

“I’m sure it was delicious,” he prompted.

“I never found out.”

“Why?”

“I kind of had an accident.”

“Julianne?” He tried to lift her chin so that he could look into her eyes, but she wouldn’t look at him. “What happened?”

“We didn’t have a kitchen table. So I set up a card table in the living room and set it for three. It was stupid, really. I shouldn’t have bothered. I put all the food on a tray to carry it to the table, and the boyfriend stuck out his foot and tripped me.”

“On purpose?”

“He saw me coming.”

Gabriel seethed with instantaneous anger, his hands curling into fists.

“I went flying. The dishes shattered. Food was everywhere.”

“How badly were you hurt?” he asked with clenched teeth.

“I don’t remember.” Julia’s voice instantly cooled.

“Did your mother help you?”

She shook her head.

Gabriel growled, low in his throat.

“They laughed. I must have looked pathetic on my hands and knees, crying, covered in gravy. The chicken skidded across the tiles and under one of the chairs.” She paused thoughtfully. “I was on my knees for a while.

You would have had a stroke if you’d seen me.”

Gabriel stifled the urge to ram his fist through the wal behind his head. “I wouldn’t have had a stroke. I would have beaten him and been sorely pressed not to horsewhip her.”

Julia traced his fist with one of her fingers. “They got bored and went into her bedroom to fuck. They didn’t even bother to close the door. That was my last Thanksgiving with Sharon.”

“Your mother sounds like Anne Sexton.”

“Sharon never wrote poetry.”

“My God, Julia.” Gabriel unclenched his fists and hugged her close.

“I cleaned up so that they wouldn’t get mad at me, and I hopped on a bus. I rode around aimlessly until I saw a Salvation Army mission. They were advertising a Thanksgiving meal for the homeless. I asked if I could volunteer in the kitchen, and they put me to work.”

“That’s how you spent Thanksgiving?”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t go home, and the people at the mission were friendly. After the guests were served, I had a turkey dinner with the volunteers. They even sent me home with leftovers. And pie.” Julia paused thoughtfully. “No one ever baked me a pie.”

He cleared his throat. “Julianne, why didn’t your father take you away from her?”

“It wasn’t always bad.” She began fidgeting with his t-shirt, gathering the soft cotton in between her fingers and tugging slightly.

“Ouch. Careful.” Gabriel chuckled. “You’re pul ing out what few chest hairs I have.”

“Sorry.” Julia nervously smoothed the cotton with her fingers. “Um, my dad lived with us until I was four, when my mom kicked him out. He went back to live in Selinsgrove, where he grew up. He used to call me on Sundays. I was talking to him one day, and I let slip the fact that one of the boyfriends had wandered into my room the night before, naked, thinking my room was the bathroom.” She cleared her throat and began speaking quickly, so Gabriel wouldn’t have a chance to ask that question.

“Dad freaked out, wanting to know if the boyfriend had touched me.

He hadn’t. He wanted to speak to my mom, and when I explained that I wasn’t supposed to bother her when one of the boyfriends was over, he told me to go into my room and lock the door. Of course, I didn’t have a lock.

First thing the next morning, Dad showed up to take me to Selinsgrove. I guess it was a good thing the boyfriend was gone by the time he arrived. I think my father would have killed him.”

“So you left?”

“Yes. Dad told Sharon that if she didn’t get rid of the boyfriends and get off the alcohol, he was going to take me away from her permanently.

She agreed to go into rehab, and I went to live with him.”

“How old were you?”

“Eight.”

“Why didn’t you stay with him?”

“He was never home. He had a day job that was very busy and sometimes he had to work weekends. Plus, he was a volunteer with the fire department. When school finished for the year, he sent me back to St.

Louis. Sharon was out of rehab by then and working in a nail salon. He thought I’d be fine.”

“But you came back?”

She hesitated.

“You can tell me, Julianne.” He squeezed her tightly and waited, softly stroking her hair. “It’s all right.”

She swallowed. Hard. “The summer before I turned seventeen, Dad brought me back.”

“Why?”

“Um, Sharon hit me. I fell against the corner of the kitchen counter, hitting my head. I called my dad from the hospital and said that if he didn’t come and get me I was going to run away. And that was it. I never saw my mother again.”

“Do you have a scar?”

She took his hand and brought it up to the back of her head, pressing his fingers against a raised line of flesh where hair no longer grew.

“I’m sorry for this.” He traced it a few times and pressed his lips against it. “I’m sorry that those things happened to you. If I could, I’d beat them all senseless…starting with the bastard who is your father.”

“I was pretty lucky, actually. Sharon only hit me once.”

“Nothing you have told me sounds even remotely lucky.”

“I’m lucky now. No one hits me here. And I have a friend who feeds me.”

Gabriel shook his head and cursed. “You should have been cuddled and adored and treated like a princess. That’s what Rachel had.”

“I don’t believe in fairy tales,” she breathed.

“I’d like to make you believe.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

“Reality is better than fantasy, Gabriel.”

“Not if reality isthe fantasy.”

She shook her head, but smiled. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Her smile faded. “Do you have any scars?”

Gabriel’s face was impassive. “You can’t hit something that you don’t know is there.”

Julia leaned up and pressed her cheek into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s difficult to know what’s worse – being hit or being ignored. I guess it depends on what kind of pain you prefer.”

“I’m so sorry, Gabriel. I didn’t know.”

She took his hand in hers and wrapped their fingers together. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Are you going to go home now?”

“Not unless you want me to leave.” He stroked her hair again, carefully avoiding the place where the flesh was raised.

She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. “I want you to stay with me.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

Julia fell asleep while Gabriel remained awake contemplating the scars she had shown him, wondering with queasiness and anger about the scars she had not revealed.

“Julia?” he whispered. Her regular breathing and lack of response indicated that she was sleeping.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He kissed her cheek softly. “Least of all myself.”