have a copy of it somewhere in the study. Maybe I should look for it.”
“What’s it about?”
“A young couple. The man ends up studying at Oxford, and I believe he becomes a protégé of C.S. Lewis. It’s a true story.”
“I’d love to go to Oxford, to see where the Inklings drank their beer and spun their tales. Katherine Picton talks about Oxford a lot.”
Gabriel kissed her forehead. “I’d love to take you. I can show you the statues at Magdalen College that inspired Lewis to write about the stone animals in The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. We could go in June, if you like.”
Julia smiled and kissed him back. “If you lend me Grace’s book, I’ll take it to Italy. It might be nice to have something to read during our vacation.”
He smirked at her and tapped a single finger to the end of her nose. “What makes you think I’ll let you have time enough to read?”
She blushed and fumbled a vague response, but Gabriel continued, a grave expression on his face.
“I’m sorry we had to stop last night. It isn’t right for me to tease you like that and just…” He searched her eyes for her reaction.
She wrapped her arms around him and embraced him tenderly. “It was an incredibly emotional evening. I was happy to be close to you and to fall asleep in your arms. I just wanted to comfort you any way I could. You don’t need to apologize.”
He cupped her face in both hands. “Julianne, your mere presence comforts me. But I was exhausted, and I’d been drinking…a recipe for disaster.” He shook his head and looked ashamed. “I didn’t want our first time together to have so much baggage, with all the ghosts of my past swirling in the air. I want us to go to a place that is ours alone and make some new memories. Some happy ones.”
“Of course. Although I must say that I was pretty happy with our interactions last night.” She laughed lightly and kissed him.
He returned her kiss eagerly. “So you aren’t upset?”
“Gabriel, you are a gentleman worth waiting for. What kind of person would I be if I threw a tantrum because you said stop? If I were to say stop, I would hope that you would accept it and not get angry.”
He frowned. “Of course, Julianne. You can always say stop.”
“Well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
“So I’m a gander now, am I?” He kissed her once again.
“It’s better than being a geezer.”
“Oh, no.” He squeezed her tightly. “No age jokes. I’m sensitive enough about our age difference.”
She tossed her hair. “Our souls have to be about the same age. So who’s counting?”
He tugged at her ponytail. “You’re incredible. You’re intelligent and funny, and damn, you’re gorgeous. Last night, kissing your breasts…” He placed a hand reverently over her heart. “You rival Botticelli’s muse.”
“Botticelli?”
“Haven’t you noticed how several of his paintings all feature the same woman? She is the topic of my lecture for the Uffizi Gallery—Botticelli’s muse.”
Julia smiled at him sweetly, placing a corresponding hand on his heart. “I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I.”
After a lonely shower, Julia had a deuce of a time convincing Gabriel to let her out of his sight so that she could go shopping. He insisted on accompanying her. But when she finally explained that she wanted to shop for lingerie, alone, he relented.
“Promise me you’ll stay with me until we leave for Italy.” He looked at her through his eyebrows.
“I have to pack. My suitcase and all my things are at my apartment.”
“When you’ve finished shopping, take a cab home and pack before you have the driver bring you back here. I have to run a few errands, but you have your own key and security card to let yourself in.”
“And what kind of errands does Professor Emerson have to do today?”
He smiled at her seductively, and Julia felt her boy shorts slip along her hips as if they were intending to take a header to the floor.
“Perhaps I have my own shopping to do for—ah—personal items.” He leaned forward to press his lips against her ear, his voice a smooth whisper. “I told you I was a good lover, Julianne. Trust me. I will anticipate your every need.”
She shivered at the way his breath breezed across her neck, almost fluttering the omnipresent scarf she wore to hide her scar. She had no idea what he was implying, but she found herself tantalized