Gabriel's Inferno (Gabriel's Inferno #1)(100)

“Was your father an alcoholic?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He was the ceo of a company in New York and died of a heart attack. I didn’t care to discover anything else about him.”

“Are you an alcoholic?”

“No.”

Julia carefully folded her linen napkin with shaking fingers and pushed her chair back from the table. “I’m glad you’re not doing drugs, and I’m glad you’re in recovery. But I won’t get involved with an alcoholic. Life is too short to be bound to that kind of misery.”

He stared at her steadily, searching her eyes. “I agree. But if you were to spend time with me, you would realize that I am not an alcoholic. And I pledge not to get drunk anymore. It’s unfortunate that I’ve only gotten drunk once in the past six months and you happened to witness it.”

“My mother went in and out of recovery several times, and she never stuck with it. What happens if you start doing drugs again? Not to mention the fact that you have this delusional vision of Beatrice. I’m not her, Gabriel.

You want an ideal, or a drug-induced misperception, not me.”

“I’ve been clean for six years. I didn’t just get out of recovery. Nevertheless, I know that I am deeply, deeply flawed. But I want to know you, just you, as you are. I want you to be yourself, and yes, Julianne, I know you’re more than just a dream. Your reality is far more beautiful and alluring than any dream. I’d choose you over the dream any time.”

A tear slid down her cheek, which she wiped away hastily. “You don’t know me. You never knew me. You held Dante’s Beatrice in your arms that night, the image from his writings and from Holiday’s painting, not me.”

Gabriel shook his head. “What I felt was real. What I did was real.”

“You thought it was real, but that’s part of the illusion.”

“It was real, Julia. It was everything. As soon as I touched you I knew…

and when I touched you again… I remembered you. My body remembered you. It was only my conscious mind that had forgotten.”

“I’m not that little girl anymore. And the woman I am you despised on sight.”

“That is not true. You’ve grown into a lovely young woman.”

“You want a pet kitten.”

“No, Beatrice.”

She spoke through clenched teeth. “Stop calling me that.”

“I’m sorry, Julianne. I know that I hurt you. I know I have a dark side.

Will you let me show you that I can be good? Very, very good?”

“It’s too late. I can’t.” Though it pained her to do so, she walked to the front door, grabbing her knapsack and her coat on the way.

“What about last night?” he asked, striding after her. “Did that mean nothing to you?”

“What should it have meant? Tell me!” She hugged her knapsack close to her chest and backed up against the wall.

He placed his hands on either side of her shoulders and leaned closer.

“Do I have to explain it? Didn’t you feel it?”

He brought his face to hers, his lips inches from her mouth. She could feel his warm breath on her skin. She shivered.

“Feel what?”

“Your body and mine together. You came to me last night, Julianne. You came to my bed. Why did you do that? Why did you tell me you couldn’t stay away? Because we’re soul mates, just like Aristophanes described — one soul in two bodies. You’re my missing half. You’re my bashert.”

“Bashert?  Do you even know what that means? Bashert is bashert, Gabriel; destiny is destiny. It can mean anything you want, and it doesn’t have to mean me.”

He smiled at her widely. “Your linguistic knowledge constantly surprises me.”

“I know that word.”

“Of course, my lovely. Because you’re smart.” He brought his fingertips lightly to her neck, stroking up and down.

“Gabriel — stop it.” She pushed him away so she could think clearly.

“You’re clean, but you’re still an addict. I am the child of an alcoholic. I won’t let this happen.”

“I don’t deserve you. I know that. Conosco i segni dell’antica fiamma.

I felt it the first time I took your hand. The first time I kissed you. And it was all there last night — every feeling, every memory, every sensation I had before was there. It was real. Look at me and tell me it meant nothing to you, and I will let you go.”

She closed her eyes to block out his pleadings, his assertion that he knew the signs of the ancient flame.

“You can’t do it, can you? Your skin remembers me, and so does your heart. You told them to forget, but they can’t. Remember me, Beatrice.

Remember your first.”

His lips met her neck, and she felt her pulse begin to race under his touch. Her body was a traitor; it would not lie. It would not listen to reason.

He could have asked her anything in this position, and she would have agreed to it. The thought made her desperate.

“Please, Gabriel.”

“Please, what?” he whispered, trailing angel soft kisses up and down her neck, finally pausing so he could feel her lifeblood flow under his mouth.

“Please let me go.”