Gabriel's Rapture (Gabriel's Inferno #2)(32)

“How was Italy?” Aaron asked Julia as the two of them refilled their mugs from the coffee maker.

“It was great. The weather was good, and we had a wonderful time. How are the wedding plans?”

“They’re coming along. When Rachel tried to rent one hundred doves to be released after the ceremony, I put my foot down. I think some of my gun-toting relatives might be tempted to shoot the damn things.” He winked.

“How are your parents?”

“They’re good. Rachel has been including my mom in the wedding planning, so she’s pretty excited. How are things with you and Gabriel?”

Julia hid her face as she opened the fridge to look for the cream. “Good.”

“Except for his ex showing up.”

She glanced over at him, and he gave her a sympathetic look.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Aaron toyed with a teaspoon. “Gabriel is different when you’re around.” He placed the spoon on the counter and rubbed his chin. “He seems happy.”

“He makes me happy too.”

“A happy Gabriel is about as rare as a hobbit. We’re all glad to see it. As far as the ex is concerned, well, I doubt they were serious. Not like the way he is with you.”

“Thanks, Aaron.”

The two friends exchanged a quick hug.

Later that evening, Julia and Gabriel retired to their room at a bed and breakfast. She was washing her face in the bathroom when she heard the strains of “Lying in the Hands of God” wafting from the bedroom.

Gabriel came to stand behind her, wearing nothing but a pair of navy-blue silk boxer shorts and a smile.

“It isn’t Barry White, but it’s ours.” He watched her for a moment or two, his expression becoming heated. He nuzzled her neck, pushing her hair aside as he fluttered his lips against her skin.

“I want you,” he whispered. “Now.”

He slid his hands underneath her T-shirt, exposing the flesh of her abdomen above the band of her yoga pants.

“Why don’t you change into one of those pretty things you bought in Toronto? Or maybe the blue basque. You know it’s my favorite.” His voice was low as his mouth moved seductively to her shoulder.

“I can’t.”

He smirked. “Not here, love. I’m not sure you’re ready to watch us in a mirror. Although I wouldn’t mind.”

When he began to remove her T-shirt, she pulled away. “Not tonight.”

He dropped his arms to his sides, watching her.

She avoided his eyes as she went back to washing her face.

Gabriel frowned and walked away, silencing the stereo in a huff. Apart from their interlude in the Uffizi, she’d never turned him down. Of course, they’d only been together a little over two weeks. But still…

Professor Emerson was not used to being rejected by a lover. He was sure she had her reasons—or at least one reason beginning with P and ending with A. He flopped onto the bed, bringing his arm to rest across his face. Understandably, Julianne was still upset about Paulina’s reappearance. Sex would be the last thing on her mind. Not to mention the fact that something troublesome had happened to her at Kinfolks restaurant that afternoon.

Being turned down made him crave her all the more. The scent of her hair, the feel of her satin skin under his fingertips, the way she closed her eyes tightly just before she came, the sensation of her moving underneath him, with him…

He needed to make love to her to know that it was all right—that they were all right.

Yes, sex was his apple a day, and he needed it. He needed to show her not with words but with actions that he loved her, worshipped her, would do anything for her. He needed to know that she still wanted him, to hear her whisper his name.

But she didn’t seem to need him. Certainly, she didn’t want him. Not tonight.

Gabriel’s depressed musings continued until she joined him in bed. She rested on her side, watching him, but he didn’t acknowledge her. He simply turned off the lamp on the bedside table.

In the darkness, they were both silent as a cold and invisible barrier sat between them.

“Gabriel?”

“Yes?”

“I need to explain something to you.”

He exhaled slowly, expelling all the air from his lungs. “I understand, Julianne. Good night.” He tried to keep the strain out of his voice but failed, miserably. He rolled away from her.

Julia winced. Now the invisible barrier seemed more like a high, impenetrable wall.

Men have such fragile, eggshell egos.

She wanted to explain things to him and bring everything out into the open, but if he was going to be so easily offended, then she would wait until morning. Or later. Julia rolled over and shut her eyes, determined to forget the whole miserable day. She tried to suppress her sniffles, hoping that she could hold the hormonal tears back. The last thing she wanted was for him to catch her crying.

Boys are dumb.

She sniffled for a few minutes, then Gabriel was spooning behind her, pressing his naked chest to her back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She nodded, still sniffling.

“Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.”

“I didn’t mean to be an ass.” He propped himself up on his elbow. “Look at me.”