Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,307

was, but I was definitely inquisitive. Especially about girls.” He leaned over to kiss her, and when his lips left hers she smiled.

“See? Any boy who can kiss like that can’t be all bad. St. Francis would approve.”

“I hate to tell you, but your beloved Francis wasn’t always right. There’s a passage in the Inferno in which he argues with a demon over the soul of Guido da Montefeltro. Do you know it?”

Julia shook her head, so Gabriel recited the text for her in Italian.

“Francesco venne poi com’io fu’ morto,

(Francis came afterward, when I was dead,)

per me; ma un d’i neri cherubini

(for me; but one of the black Cherubim)

li disse: ‘Non portar: non mi far torto.

(said to him: “Take him not; do me no wrong.)

Venir se ne dee giù tra ‘ miei meschini

(He must come down among my servitors,)

perché diede ‘l consiglio frodolente,

(because he gave the fraudulent advice,)

dal quale in qua stato li sono a’ crini;

(from which time forth I have been at his hair;)

ch’assolver non si può chi non si pente,

(For who repents not cannot be absolved,)

né pentere e volere insieme puossi

(nor can one both repent and will at once,)

per la contradizion che nol consente’.”

(because of the contradiction which consents not”.)

“So you see, Julia, even St. Francis was wrong about people on occasion. He thought Guido’s soul belonged in Paradise.”

“Yes, but it’s like Francis to think the best of someone—to think that Guido’s repentance was real and to fight for his soul,” she protested. “Even if in the end he was wrong.”

“St. Francis gave up too quickly.”

“Do you think so?”

Gabriel gazed at her intently. “If it were your soul I was after, all the dark Cherubim in Hell couldn’t keep me from you.”

A shiver snaked up and down Julia’s spine.

“I would have done whatever it took to save you.” His voice and his expression were grave. “Even if that meant I had to spend eternity in Hell.”

* * *

Gabriel and Julia spent their last full day of vacation in and out of the ocean. They sunned themselves, then relaxed in the shade with a beer and an umbrella drink. Julia nodded off in her lounge chair, her large floppy hat discarded on the sand.

Gabriel loved to watch her sleep—the way her chest rose and fell with her gentle breathing. The way her lips curled back with the occasional sigh. She looked so peaceful. Gabriel was convinced that Grace would have been delighted that he and Julianne were a couple. No doubt she would already be pressuring him to put a ring on her finger and pick out china patterns.

There had been so many moments during their Valentine’s weekend that he had wanted to bend his knee and ask her to marry him. But not only was he worried about enacting a cliché, he was worried about her future. It was likely they were about to be embroiled in a scandal that could jeopardize his career and her admission to Harvard.

Even if the complaint against her was investigated and dismissed, she would need to be able to complete her MA free of other distractions. He was sure that she’d want the full university experience at Harvard without the pressure of planning a wedding. And there was still the question of what he would do—whether he would be able to take a sabbatical. That is, if he survived Christa Peterson’s harassment complaint.

Despite the fact that he found the words marry me on his tongue on more than one occasion, he bit them back. There would be a time and a place for a proposal. That time and place should be in their orchard, sacred as it was to both of them. Not to mention the fact that it would be a polite gesture to alert Tom to his intentions before broaching the topic with Julianne. Without doubt, he wanted her to be his wife. And no matter what the next few months brought, he would make her his.

Later that evening, Gabriel found himself brimming with emotion, the fruit of much contemplation and the pleasure he always found in Julianne’s company. They’d just returned from the resort restaurant. Julia had planned on visiting the washroom to clean the makeup from her face, but he caught her wrist and wordlessly led her to the bed.

He kissed her softly and began to undress her, his eyes shining with worship and need. He took his time, adoring shoulders and arms and naked skin, his mouth beginning to make eager promises as she arched beneath his