Gabriel's Rapture (Gabriel's Inferno #2)(117)

“I hate that I’ve made you cry again,” Gabriel said ruefully, running a hand up and down her back to comfort her.

Julia wiped her eyes. “I need to go home.”

“You can stay with me tonight.” He glanced down at her cautiously.

She was conflicted. Staying with him could possibly undercut all the things she had yet to say, but running back to her cold, dark apartment seemed cowardly. As always, she knew that once she allowed herself to curl into his side, her body and heart would drag her mind along with them.

“I should go.” She sighed in defeat. “But I can’t bring myself to leave right now.”

“Then stay—in my arms.” He kissed her forehead, murmuring his love against her skin.

Slowly, he extricated himself from her embrace and retrieved a couple of blankets, pausing to blow out the candles as he did so. He left the tea lights lit in the Moroccan lamps overhead, admiring the play of light and color against the walls of the tent. The very air shimmered.

They made a nest together in the center of the futon. Gabriel lay on his back with his beloved at his side. He did nothing to stifle the deep sigh of contentment that escaped his lips as he wrapped his arm about her shoulders.

“Gabriel?”

“Yes?” He stroked her hair slowly, reveling in the feel of the silkiness of the strands as they slipped through his fingers. He tried to savor her new, unfamiliar scent but found himself mourning the loss of the old one.

“I—missed you.”

“Thank you.” He squeezed her tightly as a feeling of cautious relief coursed through him.

“I used to lie awake at night, wishing you were with me.”

Gabriel’s eyes watered at the sound of her vulnerability and her courage. If he ever had a moment’s doubt that he would love and admire her forever, no matter whether she chose him or not, that doubt faded away like a wisp of smoke.

“Me too.”

She hummed to herself and within minutes, the two weary, former lovers were sound asleep.

Chapter 46

Julia opened her eyes and saw bright July sunlight streaming in through the open door of the tent. She was curled up under two cashmere blankets that had been lovingly tucked around her. She was alone. Were it not for the fact that she knew that the tent belonged to Gabriel, she would have thought that she’d dreamed the previous evening. Or that she’d woken up to a new dream.

As she got out of bed, she found a note next to her pillow.

Darling,

You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll ask Rebecca to make waffles for breakfast because I know you like them. Falling asleep in your arms again reminded me that I was only half a person in your absence.

You make me whole.

With love,

Gabriel.

Julia couldn’t deny the fact that a variety of emotions came upon her as she read the note, like a symphony of different instruments. Perhaps the most dominant feeling was that of relief.

Gabriel loved her. Gabriel had returned.

But forgiveness and reconciliation were two different things, and she knew that although other forces had been at work to effect their separation, she and Gabriel each bore responsibility for the situation in which they currently found themselves. Julia didn’t want to run back into his arms only to escape the pain of their separation; that would be like taking a pill to kill a pain without investigating its root causes.

She found her shoes and slowly walked across the garden, retrieving her purse before entering the back door. Rebecca was already at work in the small kitchen, preparing breakfast.

“Good morning.” She greeted Julia with a smile.

“Good morning.” Julia motioned toward the staircase that led to the second floor. “I was just going to use the bathroom.”

Rebecca wiped her hands on her apron.

“I’m afraid Gabriel is in it.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t you knock on the door? He might be finished.”

The thought of running into Gabriel, damp from the shower, wrapped in a towel, made Julia’s skin grow pink.

“Um, I’ll wait. May I?” She gestured to the kitchen sink and, with Rebecca’s permission, proceeded to wash her hands. When they were dried, she removed a hair elastic from her purse and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

Rebecca invited her to sit down at the small, round kitchen table. “This house isn’t very convenient with only one bathroom. I end up having to climb those stairs several times a day. Even my little house has two bathrooms.”

Julia was surprised. “I thought that you lived here.”

Rebecca laughed as she retrieved a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice from the refrigerator. “I live in Norwood. I used to live with my mother, but she passed away a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry.” Julia gave Rebecca a sympathetic look as she poured orange juice into two wine glasses.

“She had Alzheimer’s,” said Rebecca simply before returning to her cooking.

Julia watched as she plugged in an electric waffle maker and proceeded to wash and hull a basket of fresh strawberries and whip some cream. Gabriel had planned the breakfast well.

“It’s going to be an adjustment to keep house for a professor after looking after my mother. He’s a bit particular, but I like that. Did you know that he’s lending me books? I’ve just started reading Jane Eyre. I’ve never read it before. He says that as long as I keep cooking I can keep borrowing books. Finally, I have a chance to further my education and use everything I learned from years of watching the Food Network.”