Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,198

except him, already knew it.

Rachel jumped in, eager to change the subject. “By the way, Gabriel, I didn’t know you knew Jamie Roberts. Did you go to high school with her?”

“Yes.”

“Were you friends?”

“Vaguely.”

All eyes swung to Gabriel, who turned on his heel and disappeared.

Richard waited a few minutes for the tension in the air to dissipate before turning his attention to his remaining son. “I’d like a word with you, please.” His voice was calm but firm.

The two men climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked into Richard’s study. He closed the door behind them.

“Have a seat.” He pointed to a chair in front of his desk. “I want to talk to you about your attitude toward your brother.”

Scott sat opposite his father and prepared himself for what was to come. Richard only brought his children into the study for the most serious of conversations.

He gestured to a reproduction of Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son, which was proudly displayed on one of the walls. “Do you remember the parable behind that painting?”

Scott nodded slowly. He was in trouble.

***

Julia sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air.

It was only a nightmare. It was only a nightmare. You got away.

It took a moment to bring her frantic breathing under control. But once she realized that she was safe in the Clark’s guest room and not underneath Simon on the floor of her old bedroom, she was able to relax. Somewhat.

She leaned over and turned on the lamp. The light dispelled the darkness of the room but did not cheer her. She picked up the glass of water and the pain pills that Gabriel left when he tucked her into bed several hours earlier. He’d curled around her, fully clothed, and held her until she fell asleep. But he was gone now.

I need him.

More than the pain pills or the light or the air, Julia needed Gabriel, to feel his body wrapped around hers, to hear his deep voice whisper words of comfort. He was the only person who could make her forget what had happened. She needed to touch him. She needed to kiss him in order to blot out her nightmare.

Julia took the pills to soothe the pain in her ankle. She hopped on one foot to Gabriel’s room in order to soothe the pain in her heart. She was quiet as a mouse, listening for any stirring or footsteps in the other rooms. When she was satisfied that she would not be surprised, she silently opened Gabriel’s door and closed it behind her.

It took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness. He’d neglected to pull the shades on the windows and was lying on what was normally her side of the double bed. She wondered if it was accurate to say that she had a side of the bed. She limped to the other side, pulled the covers back, and placed one knee on the mattress.

“Julianne.” Gabriel’s low whisper startled her.

She clapped a hand to her mouth so that she wouldn’t cry out.

“Stop.”

She froze. When her wits finally returned, she lowered her head. “Um, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” Shame flooded through her, and she blinked back tears as she slowly turned to go.

“That’s not what I meant. Wait.”

Julia watched him throw off the covers and stand up, his back toward her. He was naked and the streaming starlight through the shades scattered across his back. It was an optical illusion of sorts, the delicate points of light dancing across his athletic form. She saw his shoulder blades and his spine, and the muscles of his lower back where the skin stretched as he leaned over to find his pajama bottoms.

And of course, the most beautiful backside and legs…

When he’d pulled on his pants, he turned to face her, his brilliantly sculpted chest and shoulders perfect in the dimness, the tattooed dragon slightly muted but ever present.

“Now you can crawl in with me.” He chuckled. “I thought I’d make you nervous if you found me naked.”

Julia rolled her eyes. She didn’t like when he laughed at her, but she saw his point.

(Or rather, she didn’t actually see it, but she understood what he meant.)

“Come here,” he whispered, extending an arm and drawing her close so that when they reclined, her head rested naturally on his chest.

“I set my alarm so I could check on you. It would have gone off in fifteen minutes. How is your ankle?”

“It hurts.”

“Did you