Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno #3)(12)

She crossed over to the couch and curled up on it, wrapping the old blanket around her shoulders.

He watched her movements, noticing that her body was now curved into a protective ball. He placed the illustration on top of her computer and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I read your paper again. I also went back to the Inferno.” His eyes met hers. “I said some things yesterday I shouldn’t have.”

“Thank you.” Her posture relaxed somewhat.

“I have some suggestions to improve your paper.” He leaned back against the desk, resting his hips against the edge. “I know it’s important that you stand on your own two feet. But I’m happy to help, if you need me.”

“I’d welcome your advice, as long as you don’t tell me what to think.”

“I would never tell you what to think. How could I?” His face grew gentle. “Your ideas are one of the many things I love about you.”

His eyes fell to the illustration.

“I overreacted. I apologize. But the subject of your paper is somewhat personal, Julianne. The story of Francis risking Hell to save Guido’s soul represents what I was trying to do when I made my confession to the disciplinary committee back in Toronto.”

A lump appeared in Julia’s throat. She didn’t like thinking about what had happened the previous year. The disciplinary committee and their subsequent separation were far too painful to dwell on.

“I’ll admit I wasn’t merely reacting to your thesis. I was reacting to what I took to be your dismissal of the story. Our story.”

“I never meant to dismiss something so important. I know you risked everything to help me. I know you went through Hell.” Her features grew determined. “If the situation had been reversed, I would have descended to Hell to rescue you.”

A smile pulled at the edges of Gabriel’s lips. “Beatrice knew she couldn’t accompany Dante through Hell, so she sent Virgil, instead.”

“The only Virgil I know is Paul Norris. I doubt you would have welcomed his help.”

Gabriel snorted. “Paul is hardly a candidate for Virgil.”

“He was for me.”

Gabriel scowled, for the thought of Paul comforting Julia in his absence still rankled.

“I was a bastard. Then and now.” He pushed off the desk and stood in front of her, taking his hands out of his pockets.

He glanced at the space next to her. “May I?”

She nodded.

He sat beside her and held out his hand. She took it.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. I’m sorry, too.”

He pulled her onto his lap and buried his nose in her hair.

“I don’t want you to have to lock yourself in the bathroom to get away from me.”

He cupped her face and pressed their lips together. After an instant, she responded.

Gabriel kissed her with restraint, his lips warm and inviting. Back and forth and back and forth, he teased and nibbled at her mouth. Finally, she wrapped her hand around his neck, urging him closer.

He traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue. When she opened, he gently slipped inside, touching their tongues together. He’d never been able to lie with his kisses. They communicated far too much of his feelings. Julia felt his contrition and his sadness, but she also felt the undiminished flame of his desire.

His palms slid from her face to her hips, lifting her until she was straddling him. Their upper bodies pressed together as they continued to embrace, mouths eager and exploring.

“Come to bed.” Gabriel’s voice was a husky plea as he cupped her backside, pushing her over the evidence of his arousal.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He brought his lips to her ear. “We still have time to make up properly before our houseguests expect breakfast.”

Julia pulled away. “We can’t make up properly with guests in the house.”

“Oh, yes we can.” His blue eyes glinted dangerously. “I’ll show you.”

“Last night was terrible.” Gabriel lay on his back, one of his arms behind his head. He hadn’t bothered to cover himself. Their bedroom was warm and his beloved wife was lying next to him on her stomach, equally naked. In moments like this he wished they could spend their days in bed, unclothed.

“It was.” Julia lifted herself on her forearms so she could see his eyes. “Why didn’t you come and talk to me?”

“I wanted to read your paper again. And I thought you needed space.”

“I don’t like fighting with you.” Julia ducked her head, the strands of her hair skimming the tops of her br**sts. “I hate it.”

“I don’t like it either, which is surprising, really. I used to love to fight.” His lips curled into a pout. “You’re turning me into a pacifist.”

“I’m not sure you’ll ever be a pacifist, Gabriel.” Julia’s voice wobbled. “Being a grad student is hard enough. I need your support.”

“You have it,” he whispered fiercely.

“I didn’t set out to disagree with you in my paper. It just sort of—happened.”

“Come here.”

Julia stretched out on top of him and he placed his arms around her.

“We need to figure out a way to disagree without having a repeat of yesterday. My heart can’t take it.”