Gabriel's Rapture (Gabriel's Inferno #2)(111)

A sick feeling entered her stomach, and she quickly returned it to him. He replaced it on his left hand without a word.

“Why are you wearing a ring with my name on it?”

“You said that you didn’t want to talk.” His voice was gently reproving. “If you’re allowed to ask me questions, can I ask about Paul?”

She blushed and looked away. “He was there to pick up the pieces.”

Gabriel closed his eyes. He was perilously close to giving in to his temper and saying something cutting, but that would only succeed in pushing her further away.

He opened his eyes. “Forgive me. This ring has a mate, smaller in size. I purchased them at Tiffany in Toronto on the day I bought the silver frame for Maia’s picture.

“I still think of you as my other half. My bashert. Despite what happened, there was never any question of me pursuing someone else. I have been faithful to you since you told me who you were, back in October.”

Julia suddenly found it very difficult to speak. “Gabriel—these past few months, without a word, then tonight…”

He looked at her with compassion, his arms aching to hold her. But she was too far away. “We don’t have to have this conversation now. Just—if you can stand it, please let me see you tomorrow.” He gave her a look filled with longing.

She met his gaze briefly. “Okay.”

He exhaled loudly. “Good. I’ll speak to you tomorrow, then. Rest well.”

She nodded, opening the door.

“Julianne?”

He stood in front of her, far too close. She looked up at him.

“Will you—let me kiss your hand?” His voice was wistful and small, like a young boy.

She waited for him to kiss the back of her hand, then without thinking she reached up and pressed her lips to his forehead. Suddenly, his arms were around her back, pulling her flush against him.

Although he had trouble thinking of anything other than Julianne when he was kissing her, Gabriel focused his attention on trying to communicate with lips and mouth that he hadn’t betrayed her. That he loved her.

When she kissed him back with equal passion, he moaned.

He made sure to be gentle, if not intense, and as her own movements slowed, he began to nibble slightly at the fullness of her lower lip, before pressing closed mouthed kisses to both cheeks and finally, the end of her nose.

When he opened his eyes he saw a flood of emotions pass over Julia’s pretty face.

He ran his fingers through her damp hair, once, twice, and gazed down at her longingly. “I love you.”

She was silent as he walked through the door.

* * *

Gabriel’s kiss did nothing to strengthen Julia’s resolve, but she would not consider it a mistake. She’d been curious about what it would be like to kiss him again and was surprised at how familiar it was. In mere seconds he succeeded in causing her pulse to race and her throat to constrict.

She couldn’t deny that he loved her. She’d felt it. Even Gabriel, with his polished manners and charm, couldn’t lie with his kiss.

There was something different about him. He seemed softer, somehow, more vulnerable. Yes, there was the occasional show of temper and the old Professor Emerson, but she knew that Gabriel had changed. She just didn’t know why.

By the following morning the power had been restored and Julia was able to recharge her phone. She called the manager at Peet’s and explained that she was under the weather and would be taking the weekend off. He wasn’t happy about it since it was the fourth of July weekend, but there was little he could do.

After a long hot shower, (a shower spent dreaming about Gabriel’s lips and old, suppressed memories of the two of them together), Julia felt much, much better. And only a little worse. She sent a quick email to Rachel, explaining that Gabriel had returned and declared his love for her. An hour later, her phone rang. She expected that it would be Rachel. Surprisingly, it was Dante Alighieri.

“How did you sleep?” Gabriel sounded cheerful.

“Well. And you?”

He paused. “Not as well as I used to—tolerably, I suppose.”

Julia laughed. This was the Professor Emerson she remembered.

“I want to show you my house,” he said.

“What, now?”

“Today, if you’re willing.” He sounded worried she might refuse.

“Where is it?”

“It’s on Foster Place, near Longfellow’s house. Ideal for a commute to Harvard. Not so convenient for BU.”

Julia was puzzled. “If it’s inconvenient for BU, then why did you buy it?”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “I was thinking that—I was hoping that…” He struggled to find the right words. “It’s small but it has a beautiful garden. I’d like to know what you think of it.” He cleared his throat again, and she swore she could hear him tugging at his shirt collar. “Of course, I could always move.”

She hummed in response, not sure what to say.

“Now that you’ve had a good night’s sleep, will you talk to me a little?”

Julia had never heard Gabriel sound so nervous. “Of course. But it isn’t something we can do over the phone.”

“I need to pay a visit to campus to see my new office. It won’t take long.”