Gabriel's Rapture
Page 60

“Gabriel, I can’t even contemplate marrying you. I need to learn how to be with you again. And frankly, I’m still angry.”
“I understand that, and my intention is not to rush you. Do you remember the first time we made love?”
She felt her cheeks flame. “Yes.”
“What do you remember?”
She paused, a faraway look in her eyes. “You were very intense, but kind. You planned everything, even down to that ridiculous cranberry juice.
“I remember that you were arched over me, looking into my eyes while you moved, and you said that you loved me. I’ll never forget those moments for as long as I live.” She hid her face against his soap-scented neck.
“Are you shy now?” he asked, tracing the symmetry of her jaw with a single finger.
“A little.”
“Why? You’ve seen me naked. I’ve worshipped every beautiful inch of you.”
“I miss the connection we had. I haven’t felt whole without it.”
“I haven’t either. But do you think you could make love to me when you don’t trust me? You forget, my love, that I know you. You are not the type of woman to place your body where your heart will not go.
“Do you remember our last time together? You told me that you felt like I’d fucked you. The next time I have you naked in my bed, I want you to know without doubt that our union is born of love and not lust.”
“That goal can be realized without getting married,” she huffed.
“Perhaps. But if you don’t think you can ever trust me enough to marry me, maybe you should let me go.”
Julia’s eyes widened. “Is that an ultimatum?”
“No. But I want to prove myself to you, and you need time to heal.” He examined her expression carefully. “I need something permanent.”
She gaped at him. “You want something permanent or you need something permanent?”
He shifted his weight on the bed. “Both. I want you to be my wife, but I also want to be the kind of man I should have been before.”
“Gabriel, you are always trying to win me. When are you going to stop?”
“Never.”
She threw up her hands in frustration. “Withholding sex so I’ll marry you is manipulative.”
Gabriel’s expression brightened considerably. “I’m not withholding sex. If you were declaring that you weren’t ready to sleep with me and I tried to pressure you, I’d be a manipulative jackass. Shouldn’t I be allowed to wait to have sex until our relationship is repaired, and to have that choice respected? Or does ‘no means no’ only apply to women?”
“I wouldn’t pressure you if you had an objection to having sex,” Julia sputtered. “You were more than patient with me when I wasn’t ready to sleep with you. But what about make-up sex? Isn’t that customary?”
He brought his face very close to hers. “Make-up sex?” The heat of his gaze almost scorched her skin. “Is that what you want?” his voice rasped.
Welcome back, Professor Emerson.
“Um—yes?”
He took a single finger and traced her trembling lower lip. “Tell me,” he prompted.
She blinked a few times, if only to break the magnetic pull his dark blue eyes had on her. He’d rendered her speechless.
“I want nothing more than to spend days and nights devoted to your pleasure, exploring your body, worshipping you. And I will. On our honeymoon you will find me the most attentive, inventive lover. All my arts will be at your service, and I will endeavor to undo all wrongs when I take you to my bed, as my wife.”
Julia placed her head just over the place where his tattoo lay hidden underneath his crisp white shirt. “How can you be so—cold?”
Gabriel rolled her so she was wholly in his arms and on top of his chest, their upper bodies pressed together.
He kissed her gently at first, soft skin gliding over softer skin before he pulled her lower lip between his, drawing on it slightly. Then as his embrace became more heated, his hand clasped around her neck, stroking up and down until he felt her relax.
The barest tip of his tongue moved forward to tease her upper lip, the act of a gentleman who was unsure how he would be received. He needn’t have worried. Julia welcomed him, and he began to explore her mouth with purpose, catching her almost unawares before pulling back without warning.
“Does that seem cold to you?” His warm breath blew across her cheek, a hungry look in his eyes. “Does that feel as if I don’t want you?”
She would have shaken her head if she could have found it.
Gabriel moved his lips against her jaw, her chin, and painstakingly slowly down the left side of her neck until he was kissing the hollow at the base of her throat.
“And this? Does this seem cold to you?” His mouth moved against the surface of her skin.
“N-No.” She shivered.
He traced his nose up to her ear where he began to nibble, in between whispered adorations.
“How about this?” His right hand slowly descended her side, tracing each rib as if it were precious or perhaps as if he were searching for the primordial one Adam had lost. He shifted her slightly so her thigh slid over his hip, coming into contact with the undeniable evidence of his ardor.
“Can you deny this?”
“No.”
Gabriel gazed at her heatedly. “Now that we’re clear on that point, I’m interested to hear your response.”
Julia found it difficult to reason clasped to his body the way she was. She began to squirm, and he squeezed her more tightly.
“There was no one else. My arms were full even when I was alone. But if you were to tell me you’d fallen in love with someone else and that you were happy, I’d let you go. Even though it would break me.” He grimaced and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I’ll love you forever, Julianne, whether you love me or not. That’s my Heaven. And my Hell.”
The room echoed with silence for several minutes, and Julia placed a shaking hand over her mouth. Slow, steady tears poured down her face.
“What is it?” He tugged at her a couple of times before he was able to coax her to cry against his chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His voice was desperate, as he quickly rubbed his hand up and down her arm.
It took a few minutes for Julia to be able to compose herself enough to speak. “You love me.”
Gabriel’s face immediately contorted in confusion. “Is that a question?”
When she didn’t respond him, he began to panic. “You didn’t believe that I loved you? But I told you that I loved you over and over again. I tried to show you with my actions, with my words, with my body. Did you not believe me?”
She shook her head from side to side, as if indicating that he didn’t understand.
“Did you ever believe me? When we were in Italy? When we were in Belize?” He tugged painfully at his hair. “My God, Julia, did you make me your first thinking that I merely liked you?”
“No.”
“Then why do you only believe that I love you now?”
“You’d let me go so I could be happy, even if it was with someone else.”
Two tears streamed down her cheek, and he caught them with his fingers. “That’s what happens when you love someone. You want them to be happy.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and Gabriel watched a teardrop slide over the wedding ring she was wearing on her thumb.
“When I found the illustration of St. Francis and Guido de Montefeltro, I didn’t understand why you put it there. But it’s clear to me now. You were worried the university was going to ruin my life. Rather than let it happen, you took my place. You loved me enough to let me go, even though it would break your heart.”
“Julia, I…” Gabriel’s protestation was cut short by the warmth of her lips melting against his. It was chaste and sorrowful, erotic and joyous.
She had never felt herself worthy of agape before. It wasn’t a goal she aspired to or a grail that she sought. When Gabriel first told her that he loved her, she believed him. But the magnitude and depth of his love was not readily apparent. It had only become clear to her at this moment, and with that revelation came a tremendous sense of awe.
Perhaps Gabriel’s love had always been sacrificial. Perhaps it had grown over time, just like the old apple tree that fed them on that night so long ago, and she just hadn’t noticed how much it had grown.
At that moment, the genesis of his sacrificial love didn’t matter. Having been confronted with what she could only describe as something very deep, she knew that she could never doubt his love now. Gabriel loved her as he knew her, fully, completely, and without question.
He pulled away, pressing his palm to her face. “I’m not a noble man. But the love I have for you can’t be turned off. When I came to you at your apartment, my intention was to tell you that I loved you and to see that you were all right. And if you sent me away…” He took a deep breath. “I’d go.”
“I’m not going to send you away,” she whispered. “And I’ll do my best to help you any way I can.”
“Thank you.”
She moved so he was cradling her against his chest.
“I’m sorry I left.” He pressed their lips together.
Chapter 48
In the days and weeks that followed, Julia and Gabriel saw each other as much as they could, but between his preparation for the fall semester and her extended shifts at Peet’s, most of their contact was mediated via telephone and email.
Julia continued her counseling sessions with Dr. Walters, which took on a new dimension upon Gabriel’s return. Gabriel and Julia began couple’s counseling, as well, on a weekly basis, which rapidly morphed into (unofficial) pre-marital preparations.
By the time Julia moved into one of the graduate student residences in August, she and Gabriel had managed to address several of their previous communication problems. But their collective obstinance remained. Gabriel wouldn’t sleep with her until they were married, and Julia wished to move their physical relationship forward, incrementally. Gabriel was loath to share a bed with her except on occasion and then only reluctantly, with the grim visage of a martyr.
On one such evening, Julia lay awake in his arms long after he’d fallen asleep. His body was warm and his words had been sweet, but she felt rejected. The passionate Professor hadn’t needed much persuasion to reconnect with Paulina when she sought him out. But he wouldn’t love Julia with his body, even though he pledged his eternal devotion.
As Gabriel’s chest rose and fell beneath her cheek, she contemplated the path her life had taken. She wondered if Beatrice had spent some of her evenings earnestly desiring Dante’s presence, yet having to settle for the fact that he would only worship her from afar.
“Julia.”
She started at the sound of her name. He muttered something and tightened his grip on her, pulling her closer.
A lone tear escaped her eye.
She knew he loved her. But the knowledge was sharp and sweet. He was trying to let go of the past with Paulina and the other women, and she was paying the price. But perhaps it was no more than the price he’d paid for the shame she’d carried because of Simon.