Gabriel's Inferno (Gabriel's Inferno #1)(105)

“You didn’t have to do that for me.”

Gabriel wound a lock of her hair around one of his fingers. “I wanted to do something nice. I’m sorry you weren’t able to go to Harvard.”

Julia looked down at her hands. “It led me back to you, didn’t it?”

He smiled, even with his eyes. “Yes, it did.”

After an intense moment, he shifted his body so he could check his Rolex. He groaned.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I have to go. I have a meeting.”

“I should go too.”

She climbed off the couch and walked quickly to her knapsack, sling-ing it over her shoulder and searching for her coat.

Gabriel crossed the room in three strides and put his hands on her shoulders. “Stay. I won’t be long, and I’ll come right back.”

She brought her lip between her teeth and grazed on it thoughtfully.

He poked his thumb in between her teeth and her lip, effectively freeing her scraped flesh. “Don’t. It troubles me when you do that.”

He withdrew his thumb quickly lest she misread his intention, but not before accidentally making contact with her tongue. It was difficult to tell whose accident it had been.

“What’s your meeting about?”

Gabriel began rubbing at his eyes. “It’s with Christa. It’s going to be unpleasant. But it would go much easier if I knew that you would be here waiting for me.”

“I have so much work to do, and I have to call Paul. Apparently he went to my apartment last night to check on me.” Julia’s speech quickened.

“I sent him a text telling him I was fine. I said I wasn’t going to have to drop your class, but that I had to find a new director. I don’t know how I’m going to explain having Katherine Picton as my advisor.”

Gabriel fumed. “You don’t owe him an explanation. Tell him it’s none of his business.”

“He’s a friend.”

“Then mention something about a connection between your Harvard application and Katherine. She’s a friend of Greg Matthews.”

Julia nodded and began buttoning up her coat.

“Wait.” He walked over to his study and disappeared for a few minutes.

When he returned, he pressed an old hard-cover book into her hands.

She read the title, The Figure of Beatrice: A Study in Dante by Charles Williams.

“I want you to have this.”

“Gabriel, I want you to stop giving me things.” She held it out to him.

“You will impress Katherine if you are familiar with this book. She’s a fan of Dorothy L. Sayers, and Sayers borrowed a lot of her insights on The Divine Comedy from Wil iams.” He cleared his throat. “There are no strings here, Julianne. And no shame.”

She stared at the volume and smoothed her hand over its old binding.

“At least take it until she agrees to be your advisor.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, we need to talk about something else.”

She looked up at him nervously.

“It would be much easier if you weren’t my student, but you are. At least for now.”

She inhaled sharply.

Gabriel rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right. What I mean is, I can’t be your thesis supervisor, obviously. But that still leaves the problem of the Dante seminar.”

“Dropping your class would prevent me from graduating in May. You said in your voice mail messages that you could find me a reading course as a substitute, but that won’t help me. I need a Dante seminar for my specialization and my thesis.”

“The non-fraternization policy covers students in a faculty member’s classes, not just students under thesis supervision. That means that I cannot have a relationship with you while you’re my student. Next semester, of course, is entirely different. You won’t be my student anymore.”

She knew this. The Declaration of Graduate Student Rights and Responsibilities had said as much. Faculty were not allowed to sleep with their current students, that much was clear. And graduate students were not allowed to sleep with supervising faculty members. Or else…

Of course, Julia wasn’t planning on sleeping with Gabriel. She wondered if he remembered that.

“I won’t lose you again,” he whispered. “And I won’t keep you from doing what you came here to do. So we’re going to have to figure something out. In the meantime, I will have a conversation with my lawyer.”

“Your lawyer?”

“A pre-emptive, privileged conversation about what I can expect from the university if I intend to date one of my students while she is in my class.”

Julia placed a trembling hand on his sleeve. “Do you want to lose your job?”

“Of course not,” he said roughly.

“I’ve already jeopardized your career once. I won’t do it again. We’ll have to stay away from one another, and when the semester is over we can talk about this again. You might change your mind, you know, and decide you don’t want me.” She looked down at her sneakers and nervously wiggled her toes.

“That is not going to happen, Julianne.”

“We’re still getting to know one another. Maybe five weeks of friendship is just what we need.”