Gabriel's Rapture (Gabriel's Inferno #2)(51)

He paced back and forth. “Didn’t they offer you enough money? Because you know I’ll cover the cost. I’ll buy you an apartment near Harvard Square, for God’s sake.”

“I don’t want to be kept.”

“What are you talking about?” He turned his head, peering over at her sharply.

Julia squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I want to pay my own way.”

Gabriel groaned in frustration and cupped her face in his hands. “Julianne, we will never be equals. You are my better.”

He stared at her, his sincerity bringing a particular light to his blue eyes, and he kissed her, before pulling her into his chest. “I have more vices and more money. I refuse to share my vices, but my money is yours. Take it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Then let me help you secure a loan. Please don’t turn down this opportunity. Please. You’ve worked so hard for it.”

“Money isn’t the issue. Greg Matthews offered me a very generous fellowship, which will be more than enough to cover my expenses.”

She grasped the hem of her sweatshirt, tugging it to cover more of her naked body. “I’m worried about what will happen to us if I go.”

“Do you want to go?”

“Yes. But I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why would you lose me?”

She buried her face in his chest. “Long distance relationships are difficult. You’re very handsome. Lots of women will try to take my place.”

He scowled. “I’m not interested in lots of women. I’m interested in you. I’ve applied for a sabbatical. If that doesn’t work, I could take a leave of absence. It wouldn’t hurt for me to spend a year at Harvard finishing my book. We can go together, and that will buy me some time to figure out what I should do.”

“I can’t let you do that. Your career is here.”

“Academics take sabbaticals all the time. Ask Katherine.”

“What if you resent me?” she asked.

“It’s far more likely that you’ll resent me—being tied to an older man when you should be dating men your own age. And an older man who is a selfish know-it-all and can’t stop bossing you around.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “The man I love is not the person you described. Not anymore. Besides, there’s only a ten-year age difference between us.”

He grinned wryly. “Thank you. We don’t have to live together if you don’t want to. I’ll be your neighbor. Of course, if you don’t want me to go…” He swallowed and waited for her response.

Julia threw her arms around his neck. “Of course I want you to come with me.”

“Good,” he whispered, pulling her into the bedroom.

* * *

After Julia returned to her apartment the following day, Gabriel spent the afternoon working in his home office. He was about to telephone her to ask if she wanted to meet for dinner when his cell phone rang. Realizing that it was Paulina, he refused to answer it.

A few minutes later his home telephone rang, its unique ring indicating that the call was coming from the security guard downstairs. He picked up the phone.

“Yes?”

“Professor Emerson, there is a woman here who says that she needs to see you.”

“Her name?”

“Paulina Gruscheva.”

Gabriel cursed. “Tell her to go away.”

The security guard lowered his voice. “Of course, Professor. But you should know that she seems upset. And she’s using your name rather loudly.”

“Fine,” he spat. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”

Gabriel grabbed his keys and strode out of the apartment heading toward the elevator, cursing.

Chapter 17

With the relief that an early acceptance to Harvard brought, Julia was able to redouble her efforts on her thesis. When she and Gabriel were apart, she worked tirelessly, spending hours upon hours in the library or at her apartment writing.

As a reward, Gabriel decided to whisk her away to Belize for Valentine’s weekend. It was a celebration of love, Julia’s acceptance to Harvard, and other things that Gabriel was not yet ready to share.

On the day of their departure, Julia stood on the front porch of her building, checking her mailbox. She found a letter from Harvard, which she opened immediately. It was a formal offer of admission to the doctoral program, and it included the terms of her conditional acceptance and her fellowship.

She also found a business sized envelope with the University of Toronto insignia on it. The words Office of the Dean of Graduate Studies were printed above the return address. She quickly ripped open the envelope and read its contents. Then she dragged her luggage to Bloor Street, flagging a cab to Gabriel’s condominium.

She flew into the lobby, past the security guards, and into the elevator that would take her to his floor. Tripping down the hall, she let herself in with her key.

“Darling?” Gabriel walked to the front door with a smile. “You’re early. I’m flattered that you couldn’t stay away from me.”

She batted away his outstretched arms and shoved one of the letters into his hand.

“What’s this?”

He glanced down at the letter.

February 5, 2010

Office of the Dean of Graduate Studies