Gabriel's Inferno (Gabriel's Inferno #1)(103)

He gave her a puzzled look. “Of course I like you. And I would like to win your affection. Where we go from there is up to you.”

She reached uncertain fingers to stroke his hair. He closed his eyes and relaxed into her touch, inhaling and exhaling deeply. When she was finished, he opened his eyes, and Julia saw hunger in them.

He smiled, and the hunger was replaced by something else.

Hope. The sight of hope on Gabriel’s face made her tears come.

“This isn’t how I imagined it,” she wept, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “Finding you again is so different from what I dreamed. And you aren’t who I thought you were.”

“I know.” He wrapped himself around her and softly kissed her forehead.

“I had a crush on you when I was seventeen, Gabriel. My first real crush. And it wasn’t even you. I’ve wasted my whole life on a delusion.”

“I’m sorry I disappointed you. I wish I was the knight rather than the dragon. But I’m not.” He pulled back to stare deeply into her eyes. “Everything is up to you. You can rescue me or banish me with a single word.”

Julia pressed her face against his chest and wondered if she ever had a choice.

Chapter 18

Paul, hi. Sorry. Didn’t hear doorbell. Broken? Emerson scolded me but won’t have to drop class. (phew) Have to find new advisor. Working on it. Chat later

& thanks, Julia

Paul stared in confusion at the text message he’d just received from Julia.

A broken doorbell? That seemed convenient. He didn’t know whether she was giving him the brush off because she was embarrassed about her altercation with Emerson or for some other reason. In either case, he didn’t have time to track her down and find out; Emerson had e-mailed him with a list of books that he wanted checked out of the library and delivered to his office before one o’clock.

Paul sent Julia a short reply saying he was glad she was all right and walked quickly from his apartment to Robarts Library, shaking his head.

Julia sat facing backward on the leather sofa, resting her chin on her folded arms. The view through Gabriel’s floor-to-ceiling windows was remarkable. From her position she could see much of downtown and part of Lake Ontario. The trees of the city had changed color and were now dappled in gold and yellow and brilliant orange and red. They reminded Julia of some of the Canadian landscapes Paul had taken her to see at the Art Gallery of Ontario.

She’d volunteered to help Gabriel clean up after breakfast, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He’d kissed her forehead and asked her to relax, as if relaxing was even an option. Gazing at the Toronto skyline enabled her to Sylvain Reynard

focus on something beautiful while she replayed her conversation with him over and over in her head, trying to match it with their previous encounters.

How had she been so blind? And why had the Clarks hidden Gabriel’s addiction from her? They’d always treated her as if she was a member of the family. But not even Rachel had ever breathed a word about it, unless one considered what she said recently about his darkness. Did the Clarks always speak in extended metaphors like metaphysical poets? Julia would have needed a literary criticism class in order to interpret their allusions.

Gabriel leaned up against the fireplace, staring at her. She appeared remarkably at home perched on his sofa, looking out his window like a cat.

But her tense shoulders telegraphed worry. He sat next to her, purposefully leaving a healthy gap between them. When she made no move to inch closer to him or even to look at him, he extended his hand.

“Please.” He smiled.

Julia took his hand reluctantly and found herself pul ed to his side. He wrapped both arms around her and kissed her hair. “That’s better.”

She sighed and closed her eyes.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Gabriel felt her body relax. After all they’d discussed, he was surprised that she could relax with him. “When was the last time someone held you like this?” He began stroking her hair absentmindedly, when in reality he was anything but.

“Last night.”

He chuckled. “I seem to remember that. But before?”

“I don’t remember.” Julia’s tone was defensive, so he elected not to press her.

She’s probably starved for physical affection. Alcoholic mothers don’t have the wherewithal to look after their children. And that Simon character probably didn’t hold her — unless he was trying to take her clothes off.

The mere idea made him furious — that someone would treat her with so little care. He knew that something about their physical connection calmed her, as it did him. And that led him to believe that she had little experience with positive physical contact.

“Is this all right? Holding you like this?” he whispered against her hair.

“Yes.”

“Good.” And for effect, he traced the hairline around her face, brushing a wisp of hair back from her cheek. “So beautiful,” he whispered. “So lovely.”

They sat like that for some time until Julia decided to ask a question that she’d been wondering about. “The photo that you had over the bed, where the man is kissing the woman’s shoulder…where did you find it?”

Gabriel pressed his lips together. “I didn’t.”