Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,368

wanted you with me. The photograph was a poor substitute.”

“You wanted me?”

Gabriel couldn’t help himself. He gently stroked the curve of her cheek with his thumb, inwardly relieved that she didn’t flinch. “I never stopped wanting you.”

She moved away, leaving his hand to touch only air. Her tone grew harsh. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be left by the person you love, not once, but twice?”

Gabriel pressed his lips together. “No, I don’t. Forgive me.”

He waited to see if she would answer him, but she didn’t.

“So Paul gave you that sweatshirt.” He toyed with his glass. “How is he?”

“He’s fine. Why do you care?”

“He’s my student.” Professor Emerson sounded prim.

“So was I, once,” she said bitterly. “You should email him. He said he hasn’t heard from you.”

“So you’ve spoken with him?”

“Yes, Gabriel. I’ve spoken with him.”

Julia pulled her wet hair out of its ponytail, running her fingers delicately through the tangles.

Gabriel watched, entranced, as a cascade of dark, shiny strands fell across her thin shoulders.

“My hair hurts,” she explained.

The corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. “I didn’t know hair could hurt.”

He ran his fingers through her hair, and his expression changed instantly to one of concern. “You could have been seriously injured, standing in the middle of the street.”

“I’m lucky I didn’t drop my laptop. It has all my research on it.”

“It’s my fault for surprising you. I’m sure I looked like a ghost, skulking about behind that tree.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever skulked a day in your life. And you didn’t look like a ghost. You looked like something else.”

“Like what?”

Suddenly, Julia felt her skin flame.

He watched her cheeks take on the shade of pink he was most familiar with. He ached to feel her blush beneath his fingers. But he was wary of pushing her.

She gestured vaguely. “Paul suggested I back up my files on a flash drive, so if something happened to my computer I’d still have everything. But I haven’t updated it recently.”

At the second mention of his former research assistant, Gabriel suppressed a growl and the urge to mutter a favored expletive that involved copulating carnally with celestial creatures.

He turned to her. “I thought you’d expect me to get in touch with you once you graduated.”

“What if I did, Gabriel? Graduation came and went with no word from you.”

“As I said, I had to wait until my resignation took effect. My contract didn’t end until July first.”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t say the things I need to say while you’re sitting on my futon.”

“I see,” he said slowly.

She shifted her feet, actively resisting the overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms and tell him that everything was fine. Things between them weren’t fine. And she owed it to herself, if not to him, to be honest.

“I’ve taken up enough of your evening.” He sounded defeated.

He stood, glancing at the door, then back at Julia. “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me. But I hope you’ll give me one more conversation before you say good-bye.”

Julia straightened her shoulders. “You didn’t say good-bye with a conversation. You said it by fucking me against a door.”

He strode toward her quickly.

“Stop it. You know my opinion of that word. Never use it in reference to us again.”

Here was the old Professor Emerson, simmering beneath Gabriel’s chastened exterior. He’d been soft with her, so she found his change in tone jarring. But she’d been exposed to his ill temper before and discovered, at that moment, that it didn’t really trouble her. So she ignored him and stood up, prepared to escort him out.

“Don’t forget this.” She picked up his cell phone.

“Thank you. Julianne, please—”

“How’s Paulina?”

Her question hung in the air like an arrow, poised in flight.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m wondering how often you saw her while you were gone.”

Gabriel placed his phone in his pocket. “I saw her once. I asked for her forgiveness and wished her well.” His tone had the air of finality.

“Is that all?”

“Why don’t you just come out and ask the question, Julianne?” His lips pressed into a thin, angry line. “Why don’t you ask me if I slept with her?”

“Did you?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Of course not!”

Gabriel’s answer was so swift, so vehement, Julia retreated slightly. He was righteously indignant, his fists clenched.

“Maybe I should have been more specific. There are a lot of things a man and woman can do short of sleeping together.”