Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,160

the next morning, she was alone. She glanced at the old fashioned clock Gabriel kept on his nightstand and was stunned to discover that it was already noon. She’d slept far too long.

He’d left her a continental breakfast and a note that was propped up against a wine glass filled with orange juice. Julia began eating the pain au chocolat as she read his note:

From the Desk of Professor Gabriel O. Emerson

Darling,

You were sound asleep,

so I didn’t want to wake you.

I’ve gone to run some errands.

Call me when you wake up.

I was very grateful to have you

in my arms all night

and for your words…

If I have a soul, it’s yours,

Gabriel

Julia smiled widely and took her time eating her breakfast. Gabriel sounded happy, and that made her happy too. She freshened herself up in the washroom and was about to exit the bedroom when she tripped over something. Righting herself with a curse, she saw that the offending speed bump was in reality three white shopping bags with the words Holt Renfrew emblazoned on them. She pushed them aside almost wrathfully, and walked to the kitchen.

She was surprised to find Gabriel sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. He was wearing a pale blue button-down shirt that highlighted the blueness of his eyes, and black casual pants. He wore his glasses, and he looked handsome, as always. Julia felt underdressed in her T-shirt and shorts.

“Why, hello there.” Gabriel folded his paper and put his cup down. He opened his arms wide, beckoning her.

She stepped in between his parted knees, and he embraced her warmly.

“How did you sleep?” he whispered in her hair.

“Really well.”

He kissed her softly. “You must have been tired. How do you feel?” He looked at her with concern.

“I’m fine.”

“I can make you lunch, if you wish.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Something small with my first coffee. I was waiting to have lunch with you.”

He kissed her again, more deeply this time. Julia shyly slid her arms up his back and into his hair. Gabriel reacted by nibbling on her lower lip and pulling away with a smirk.

“Part of me was worried you wouldn’t be here when I woke up.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Gabriel. My feet are still aching from walking everywhere in those heels yesterday. I don’t think I could make it home even if I wanted to.”

“I can fix that. With a little help from a hot bath.” He moved his eyebrows suggestively.

Julia flushed and changed the subject. “How long did you want me to stay?”

“Forever.”

“Gabriel, be serious.” She shook her head, smiling.

“Till Monday morning.”

“I only have clothes for today. I’ll have to go home and pick up a few things.”

He smiled at her indulgently. “I’ll take you home, if you insist. Or I’ll lend you the Range Rover. But before you go, there are a couple of things waiting for you in the bedroom. Perhaps a trip home will be unnecessary.”

“What things?”

He waved his hands. “Things someone might need if they were staying at a friend’s house.”

“And where did they come from?”

“The store where Rachel bought your messenger bag.”

“So they were expensive.” Julia frowned and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“You are my guest. The rules of hospitality require that I satisfy all your needs.” He sounded husky, his tongue peeking out to swipe across his lower lip.

Through a great force of effort, Julia ignored his mouth. “It feels…illicit if you are buying me clothes.”

“What are you talking about?” Now he sounded cross.

“Like I’m some—”

“Stop it.” He released her immediately, and his eyes darkened.

She stared back at him, bracing for the deluge to come.

“Julianne, why do you have this aversion to generosity?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. Do you think I’m trying to bribe you into having sex with me?”

Her face reddened. “Of course not.”

“Do you think I’m buying you things because I expect you to pay for them in sexual trade?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to owe you.”

“Owe me? So now I’m a medieval moneylender who charges interest, and if you don’t pay on time, I’ll take a pound of your flesh.”

“I don’t think that,” she whispered.

“Then what do you think?”

“I think that I want to stand on my own two feet. You’re a professor, and I’m a student and—”

“We discussed that last night. A present from a friend does nothing to inhibit your free will or your personal autonomy,” he fumed. “I didn’t want you to have to go home. Our time together is short enough as it is. I walked across