Gabriel's Inferno (Gabriel's Inferno #1)(19)

Just as before, Julia swirled the wine slowly. She examined it in the halogen light. She closed her eyes and sniffed. Then she wrapped her kissable lips around the rim of the goblet and tasted it slowly, holding the wine in her mouth for a moment or two before swallowing.

Gabriel sighed, watching her as the wine traveled down her long and elegant throat.

When Julia opened her eyes, she saw Gabriel swaying slightly in front of her, his blue eyes darkened, his breath somewhat affected, and the front of his charcoal gray trousers…She frowned at him. Hard. “Are you all right?”

He passed a hand over his eyes and willed himself into submission.

“Yes. Sorry.” He poured a large glass for her and one for himself and began to sip it sensuously, watching her intently over the rim of his glass.

“You’re probably starving, Gabriel. I know what a beast you turn into when you’re hungry.” Rachel spoke over her shoulder as she stirred some kind of sauce on the stove.

“What are we having with the lamb?” He was watching Julia like a hawk as she brought her wineglass up to her luscious mouth once again and took a large swallow.

Rachel placed a box on the breakfast bar. “Couscous!”

Julia spat out her wine, drenching Gabriel and his white shirt. In shock at her sudden expectoration, she dropped the wineglass, dousing herself and his hardwood floor in the process. The crystal goblet shattered on impact at the foot of her barstool.

Gabriel began shaking the wine droplets off of his expensive dress shirt and cursed. Loudly. Julia dropped to her knees and swiftly tried to pick up the scattered glass shards with her bare hands.

“Stop,” he said quietly, peering down at her over the edge of the breakfast bar.

Julia continued her desperate mission, tears escaping her eyes.

“Stop,”  he said more loudly, walking around the counter.

She transferred some of the glass shards to her other hand and tried picking up the remainder piece by piece, crawling on the floor pathetically like a wounded puppy that was dragging a broken paw.

“Stop! For God’s sake, woman, stop. You’ll shred yourself to ribbons.”

Gabriel towered menacingly, his anger descending on her from on high like the wrath of God.

He pulled her to her feet by her shoulders and forced her to dump the glass from her hands into a bowl on the countertop, before guiding her down the hall and into the guest washroom.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Julia sat on the top of the closed toilet and heaved a subdued but shuddering sob.

“Hold out your hands.”

Her hands were stained with red wine and some small trickles of blood.

A few crystals of glass sparkled on her palm amongst the cuts. Gabriel cursed a few times and shook his head as he opened the medicine cabinet. “You don’t listen very well, do you?”

Julia blinked at her tears, sorry that she couldn’t wipe them away with her hands.

“And you don’t do what you’re told.” He looked over at her and abruptly stopped.

He didn’t know why he stopped, and if you had asked him why afterward, he would have shrugged and given you no explanation. But once he stopped what he was doing and saw the poor little creature that was huddled in a corner crying, he felt…something. Something other than annoyance or anger or guilt or sexual arousal. He felt compassion for her. And he felt sorry that he’d made her cry.

He leaned over and began to wipe her tears away very tenderly with his fingertips. He noticed the hum that came from her mouth as soon as he touched her, and he noticed once again that her skin felt very familiar. And when he’d wiped away her tears, he cupped her pale face in his hands, tilting her chin upward…then retreated quickly and began cleaning her wounds.

“Thank you,” she murmured, noting the care with which he removed the glass from her hands. He used tweezers, meticulously searching out even the smallest fragment from her skin.

“Don’t mention it.”

When all the glass had been removed, he poured iodine onto some cotton balls.

“This is going to sting.”

He watched as she steeled herself for his touch, and he winced slightly.

He did not relish the thought of hurting her. And she was so soft and so fragile. It took him a full minute and a half to work up the courage to put the iodine on her cuts, and all the time she was sitting there, wide-eyed and biting her lip, waiting for him to just do it already.

“There,” he said gruffly, as he wiped away the last of the blood. “You’re all better.”

“I’m sorry I broke your glass. I know it was crystal.” Her soft voice interrupted his reverie as he returned his first-aid implements to the medicine cabinet.

He waved a hand at her. “I have dozens. There’s a crystal shop downstairs. I’ll pick up another if I need it.”

“I’d like to replace it.”

“You couldn’t afford it.” The words escaped his mouth without him realizing it. He watched in horror as Julia’s face first reddened then grew pale. Her head went down, of course, and she started chewing at the inside of her cheek.

“Miss Mitchell, I wouldn’t dream of taking your money. It would violate the rules of hospitality.”

And we couldn’t have that,  thought Julia.

“But I’ve stained your shirt. Please let me pay for the dry cleaning.”