Gabriel's Inferno
Page 90

 Sylvain Reynard

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“No, Gabriel, I don’t think that. It’s like…a memorial.”
“Paulina was about five months pregnant when she lost the baby. She was not in her right mind and neither was I, so we didn’t have a funeral.
A couple of years ago I had a headstone erected for Maia in Boston.” He grasped Julia’s hand in his and kissed her palm.
“She isn’t buried there.” His voice was pained.
“She wouldn’t be there, anyway, Gabriel. She’s with Grace now.”
He paused and stared at her as his eyes filled with tears again. “Thank you for that,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her hand once more. “There’s a stone angel on either side of the headstone. I wanted it to be beautiful.”
“I’m sure it’s lovely.”
“You’ve already received part of her memorial.”
She looked puzzled.
“Your bursary. I named it for her — Maia Paulina Emerson.”
Julia wiped a tear that sprang suddenly from her eye. “I’m so sorry I tried to give it back to you. I didn’t know.”
Gabriel reached up and kissed her nose. “I know that, my love. At the time, I wasn’t ready to explain how significant the bursary was. I only wanted you to have it. No one else was worthy.” He kissed her again softly.
“I should tell you that I asked Rachel about it. She had no idea.”
“No one knows about Maia and Paulina except for Richard. And Grace. I was so ashamed of everything. They thought it would be enough for Scott and Rachel to know about the drugs. No one knows about the tattoo, however. You’re the only one.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair, willing him to find peace. “Your Puccini scared me,” she whispered.
“It seemed…fitting.”
She shook her head.
“The way I treated Paulina. She loved me for years, and I couldn’t love her back.” He shrugged awkwardly and shifted his gaze so that his intensity burned into hers. “I would never treat you like a butterfly, like something I’ve captured for my own amusement. I’d never pin you to a card and pull off your wings.”
She shook her head as a pained look crossed her pretty face. “Gabriel, please. I trust you. You are not Puccini’s Pinkerton. I know that.”
In proof of her declaration, she kissed him, moving her mouth in concert with his until she had to pull back to draw breath.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.
“Maybe we don’t deserve each other, but I can choose who I love. And I choose you.”
He frowned as if he didn’t believe her.
“Please let me love you.” Her voice cracked on the last two words, and a stray tear pushed down her cheek.
“As if I could even contemplate living without you.” He drew her to him, the desperate passion of his tortured soul binding the two together.
She met him movement for movement, taking and giving all at once as she leaned over the beautiful man who rested his weary head in her lap.
His mouth found her wrists as he kissed them with wet, open kisses, sucking gently at the delicate place where pale veins were covered by rice-paper skin.
“Forgive me, Julianne, but I need you. My sweet, sweet girl. So much.”
His eyes were a blue fire, and his voice was gravelly.
Before she knew what was happening, he’d repositioned himself so that he was sitting on the couch and she was straddling him. Their upper bodies pressed tightly together, his hands worshipping the gentle sway of her lower back and the curve of her behind through her wool trousers.
In the back of her mind, Julia recalled one of the black-and-white photographs from Gabriel’s bedroom. And in that instant, she recognized its beauty and its passion from a first person perspective. It was want and need and desperation and deep, deep unconditional love now made free through the telling of dark, hidden secrets.
He felt her love in her kiss, her embrace, the way her fingers lightly brushed the back of his neck and the surface of his tattoo, coaxing open-mouthed kisses up and down the lines of his chest. She would give him everything. She would do anything to take away his pain, including offering up herself.
The Sacrifice of Isaac.
With trembling fingers, she undid the buttons of her blouse and slipped it from her shoulders. A faint gasp from Gabriel’s mouth mirrored the sound of the silk sinking slowly to the floor.
She was his atonement.
Chapter 32
Julia awoke the next morning stark naked.
Or so she thought.
She was in Gabriel’s bed with their bodies wrapped around each other.
Her head rested on his shoulder while his left arm ran across her right hip, their legs scissored, their hips pressed close.
She moved a hand down his back until she found soft cotton covering his most beautiful of curves, which she explored surreptitiously. Then she looked in between them and realized she was wearing her pink bra and panties.
In her dream, they’d fallen into bed naked and made love for hours.
Gabriel had placed his body over hers and held her gaze like a magnet as he entered into her slowly, until the two became one. An eternal circle with no end and no beginning. He’d worshipped her with his body and his words, and it was far more emotional and lovely than she’d ever dared hope.
But it was only a dream. She sighed and closed her eyes as the previous evening’s events came flooding back. Sorrow and relief commingled and spread across her heart; sorrow for Gabriel’s loss and tortured desperation, and relief that all their secrets had now been spoken.
Gabriel murmured her name, his eyes moving beneath his eyelids in deep rem sleep. He’d been so tired the night before. So broken. Julia kissed his cheek and quietly extricated herself from his arms, padding to the bathroom.
When she regarded herself in the mirror, she saw wild, rumpled hair, smeared eye makeup, and lips made fuller from kissing. Several love bites, mild in color and quite painless, dappled her neck and chest. He’d been a gentle but enthusiastic lover.
She washed her face and brushed her hair, taming her mane into a high ponytail and provocatively forsaking her purple bathrobe for one of Gabriel’s button down shirts. She fetched the Globe and Mail  from the ex-terior hallway and waved a shy good morning to Gabriel’s nervous but not entirely unfortunate-looking next door neighbor, who stared through his rimless spectacles at her shapely bare legs before retreating like a frightened mouse into his apartment. He was not used to seeing such beauty so early in the morning, and he’d been clad only in Superman pajama bottoms of dubious origin.
When Julia entered the kitchen she was faced with a mess, for no one had cleaned up after dinner, their hands and minds too full for such pedestrian concerns. After indulging in a slice of apple pie with Vermont cheddar, Julia proceeded to return Gabriel’s apartment to its formerly pristine condition. It took longer than she anticipated.
When the kitchen was spotless and Gabriel still had not emerged from his bed, she poured herself a very large mug of coffee and sat in his favorite chair by the fireplace with the newspaper. The sight of his Oxford shirt and her silk blouse lying on top of one another on the floor brought a blush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips.
“And this, alas! is more than we would do.”
Gabriel had stopped her. She would have given herself to him gladly because she loved him. For her, it was not a matter of if  she would make love with him, but when. But Gabriel had mumbled something against her naked breast and stopped.
He’d been so afraid that she would abandon him when she found out about his relationship with Paulina and the tragic loss of their child. But if anything, his confession had brought them closer. At least she’d been able to make that clear to him.
And in three days, perhaps, we will be as close as a couple can be.  In two days they would leave for Italy, and she would accompany Gabriel to his lecture as his girlfriend. And when their time in Florence was ended, perhaps they would travel to Venice or Umbria as lovers.
Despite everything she and Gabriel had experienced, she felt very much at peace in his shirt and in his chair. They belonged to one another, she believed this. And as long as the Fates did not conspire against them, they would have their happiness. She hoped. However, the knowledge that Paulina had the ability to throw Gabriel into a tailspin with a single telephone call troubled her deeply.
No less than an hour later, Gabriel strolled into the living room, scratching his head and yawning. His hair was messy with the exception of one perfect, errant curl that had taken a liking to his forehead. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, his glasses, and nothing else. He wasn’t even wearing socks. (Parenthetically, it should be noted that even Gabriel’s feet were attractive.)
“Good afternoon, my love.” He caressed her cheek with his fingers and leaned over to kiss her firmly. “I like your…outfit.” His eyes took in the naked flesh that was visible below the edge of the shirttail.
“I like your outfit too. You’re looking awfully casual  this morning, Professor.”
He leaned forward and gave her a heated look. “Miss Mitchell, you’re lucky I decided to put on any clothes at all.” He chuckled at her fierce blush and disappeared into the kitchen.
Oh, gods of all virgins who are planning to have sex with their sex-god (no blasphemy intended) boyfriends, please don’t let me spontaneously combust when he finally takes me to bed. I really need a Gabriel-induced orgasm, especially after last night. Please. Please. Pretty please…
A few minutes later he reappeared and sank down on the couch with his coffee cup, scrubbing at his stubble with one hand. At length, he frowned in her direction.
“You’re too far away.” He patted his knee invitingly.
She grinned and walked over to him, allowing him to guide her so that she was seated comfortably on his lap. Gabriel crooked an appreciative arm around her hips, pulling her shirt up so that he could rest it comfortably against the lace of her boy shorts.
“And how is Miss Mitchell this morning?”
“Tired,” she sighed. “But happy.” Her eyes darted to his. “If it’s okay for me to say that.”
“It is. I’m happy too. And God, so relieved.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, exhaling a very deep breath. “I was certain I’d lose you.”
“Why?”
“Julianne, if one were doing a cost-benefit analysis, I would be a high-cost, high-risk, low-benefit venture.”
“Nonsense. I don’t see you that way at all.”
He gave her a half-smile. “Only because you are the soul of forgiveness and compassion. Although I must admit, my best qualities and talents have heretofore remained hidden.” Now his voice was husky, and the familiar spark of sensuality lit his blue eyes. “But I look forward to placing them entirely at your service again and again and again, ad infinitum,  until you are weary of both them and me. And entirely, blissfully sated.”
Julia swallowed. Hard.
He reached up to kiss her forehead, placing his coffee on the side table so that he could wrap her in his arms. “Thank you for staying.”