in between her legs so he could press their hips together. “You don’t see the comparison between you and her? This is my water.” He pressed himself against her again. “You are my water. Making love with you is all I need to quench my thirst. Why would I throw this away for water from the ocean?”
He moved against her as a reminder. “She has nothing to offer me.”
He lowered his face so their noses were inches apart. “And you are beautiful. Every part of you is a masterpiece, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You’re Botticelli’s Venus and Beatrice. Do you have any idea how much I adore you? You captured my heart when I first saw you, when you were seventeen.”
Her body began to relax incrementally under his touch and his quiet words. “How was it left with her?”
“I told her that I didn’t appreciate her dropping in on me and that she was never to do it again. She took it as well as could be expected.”
Gabriel was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. “Come in!”
He rolled onto his side just as Rachel walked in.
“Dinner is on the table, and Tom and Scott are here. Are you two coming downstairs?” She looked from her best friend to her brother and back again. “Do I need to send Scott up here?”
Julia shook her head. “Did he bring his girlfriend?”
“No, she’s spending Christmas with her parents. I asked him to invite her but he gave me a big song and dance.” Rachel looked annoyed. “Do you think he’s embarrassed by us?”
“More likely he’s embarrassed by her,” said Gabriel. “She’s probably a stripper.”
“Professors in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” Rachel glared at her brother and stormed out.
Julia looked puzzled. “What was that about?”
His expression tightened. “My dear sister is less than impressed with Paulina—and me.”
Chapter 9
Jt was a different Christmas Eve than any of them had ever experienced. Grace’s absence was felt most keenly by her husband and children, Aaron wished that he was already married, and Rachel wished that her chicken Kiev was even half as good as her mother’s, frozen butter or not.
After dinner, Gabriel, Tom, and Richard retreated to the back porch to smoke cigars and drink Scotch while the rest of the family enjoyed coffee in the kitchen.
“How was Italy?” Aaron asked Julia as the two of them refilled their mugs from the coffee maker.
“It was great. The weather was good, and we had a wonderful time. How are the wedding plans?”
“They’re coming along. When Rachel tried to rent one hundred doves to be released after the ceremony, I put my foot down. I think some of my gun-toting relatives might be tempted to shoot the damn things.” He winked.
“How are your parents?”
“They’re good. Rachel has been including my mom in the wedding planning, so she’s pretty excited. How are things with you and Gabriel?”
Julia hid her face as she opened the fridge to look for the cream. “Good.”
“Except for his ex showing up.”
She glanced over at him, and he gave her a sympathetic look.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Aaron toyed with a teaspoon. “Gabriel is different when you’re around.” He placed the spoon on the counter and rubbed his chin. “He seems happy.”
“He makes me happy too.”
“A happy Gabriel is about as rare as a hobbit. We’re all glad to see it. As far as the ex is concerned, well, I doubt they were serious. Not like the way he is with you.”
“Thanks, Aaron.”
The two friends exchanged a quick hug.
Later that evening, Julia and Gabriel retired to their room at a bed and breakfast. She was washing her face in the bathroom when she heard the strains of “Lying in the Hands of God” wafting from the bedroom.
Gabriel came to stand behind her, wearing nothing but a pair of navy-blue silk boxer shorts and a smile.
“It isn’t Barry White, but it’s ours.” He watched her for a moment or two, his expression becoming heated. He nuzzled her neck, pushing her hair aside as he fluttered his lips against her skin.
“I want you,” he whispered. “Now.”
He slid his hands underneath her T-shirt, exposing the flesh of her abdomen above the band of her yoga pants.
“Why don’t you change into one of those pretty things you bought in Toronto? Or maybe the blue basque. You know it’s my favorite.” His voice was low as his mouth moved seductively to her shoulder.
“I can’t.”
He smirked. “Not here, love. I’m not