black leather gloves. But it was his hat that fascinated her.
Professor Emerson wore a beret.
She found his choice of haberdashery strangely appealing. Gabriel had refused to succumb to the local custom of wearing knit caps or toques. A black wool beret to match his overcoat did nicely enough. And he was very elegant in it.
“What?” His face crinkled as he watched her watching his reflection, a slow smile playing about his lips.
“You’re handsome,” she stammered, unable to take her eyes away from his striking figure.
“You’re the attractive one, inside and out. A beautiful popsicle.”
He kissed her long and good in front of a hundred bone china place settings, and gently pecked her ear. “Let’s take a cab to dinner. Then I’ll be able to devote my full attention to you. I’ll run inside to take out some cash from the ATM and I’ll be back in a minute. Unless you’d rather join me.”
Julia shook her head. “I want to enjoy the snow while it lasts.”
He snorted loudly. “This is a Canadian winter. Believe me, the snow will last.” He moved her scarf aside to kiss her neck, and he chuckled to himself as he disappeared into the Manulife Building.
She peered through the window at the display of china and began to admire one place setting in particular, wondering how it would look in Gabriel’s apartment.
“Julia?”
She turned around and came face to chest with Paul. He smiled at her and engulfed her in a warm hug. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she responded somewhat nervously, worrying that Gabriel would surprise them.
“You look great. Did you have a good Christmas?”
“Very good. I brought you a souvenir from Pennsylvania. I’ll put it in your mailbox in the department. How was your Christmas?”
“Fine. Busy, but fine. How are your classes?”
“They’re good. Professor Picton is keeping me busy.”
“I’ll bet she is.” Paul chuckled. “Maybe we can get coffee sometime next week and you can tell me all about it.”
“Maybe.” Julia smiled back, resisting the urge to turn around and look for Gabriel, when all of a sudden Paul’s smile slid off his face.
His dark brows came together, and he took a step closer, a scowl clouding over his usually benign features. “What happened to you?”
Julia looked down at her winter coat but saw nothing that would alarm him. And then she wiped at her face, wondering if Gabriel had smeared her lip-gloss across her cheeks.
But Paul was looking elsewhere. He was looking at her neck.
He came closer still, so he was truly violating her personal space, and pulled the edge of her purple pashmina aside with his bear-like paw.
“Holy God, Julia, what the hell is that?”
She flinched as one of his work-roughened fingers tentatively skimmed the bite mark on her neck, cursing the fact that she’d apparently forgotten to use concealer that morning when she applied her make up.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” She moved backwards and wrapped her pashmina around her neck twice, fussing with the ends so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
“I know what nothing looks like, and that ain’t nothing. Did your boyfriend do that?”
“Of course not! He would never hurt me.”
Paul cocked his head to one side. “You told me he hurt you before. I thought that was why you broke up the last time.”
Julia found herself wrapped in the coiled python grip of her lies. She opened her mouth to protest and quickly closed it, trying to think of something to say.
“Did he bite you out of love? Or anger?” Paul tried to keep his voice calm. He was furious with whoever had treated Julia so violently and more than willing to track down the offender and kick his ass. Several times.
“Owen would never do something like that. He’s never put a violent hand on me.”
“Then damn it, Julia, what happened?”
She blinked at his anger and found herself looking down at her boots.
“And don’t lie to me,” he breathed.
“Someone broke into my father’s house during Thanksgiving and attacked me. That’s how I got the scar. I know it’s hideous. I’m having it removed.”
Paul was quiet for a moment as he considered what she said. “A bite mark seems awfully personal for a burglar, don’t you think?”
Julia chewed at the inside of her mouth.
“And why should you be ashamed of being attacked? It wasn’t your fault.” Paul fumed. “You don’t want to tell me. I get it.” He reached out and took her hand in his, stroking the surface of her palm with his thumb. “If you need to get away