Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,373

to his bower.

She kicked off her shoes and curled up on the futon against the cushions, nervously chewing her fingernails while Gabriel lit the candles in the Moroccan lanterns. He took his time, adjusting them so their light flickered over the futon seductively. Then he lit the other candles that were scattered throughout the tent. Finally, he lay on his back next to her, hands behind his head, angled so he could see her face.

“I’d like to talk about what happened,” she initiated.

Gabriel gave her his full attention.

“When you showed up outside my apartment I didn’t know whether to hit you or kiss you.” Her voice was low.

“Didn’t you?” he whispered.

“I didn’t do either.”

“It was never your nature to be vindictive. Or cruel.”

She took a deep breath and began. She told him how it broke her heart to have left message after message with him, only to have them unacknowledged. She told him about her surprise at finding his apartment abandoned. She told him about the kindness of his neighbor, and Paul, and Katherine Picton. She spoke of her continued sessions with Nicole.

Julia was too busy fussing with her espresso to notice how unsettled he’d become. When she mentioned how the textbook he’d passed to her had ended up on her shelf unopened, Gabriel cursed Paul.

“You aren’t allowed to curse him.” Her tone was sharp. “It wasn’t his fault that you put your message in a textbook. Why didn’t you choose a volume out of your personal library? I might have recognized it.”

“I’d been ordered to stay away from you. If I’d put a volume from my library in your mailbox, Jeremy would have noticed it. As it was, I chose a textbook and I placed it in your mailbox after hours.” He huffed in frustration. “Didn’t the title mean anything to you?”

“What title?”

“The title of the textbook: Marriage in the Middle Ages: Love, Sex, and the Sacred.”

“What should it have meant, Gabriel? For all I knew, you’d labeled me as your Héloise and left me. I didn’t have any reason to think otherwise and you didn’t leave me with one.”

He leaned forward, eyes flashing. “The textbook was the reason. The title, the photo from the orchard, the image of St. Francis trying to save Guido da Montefeltro…” His voice cracked, and he paused, in agony. “Didn’t you remember our conversation in Belize? I told you I’d go to Hell to save you. And believe me, I did.”

“I didn’t know you’d sent me messages. I overlooked the textbook because I didn’t know it was from you. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I couldn’t talk to you,” he whispered. “I was told that the Dean would interview you prior to your graduation and that he would ask if you’d heard from me. You’re a lovely woman, Julianne, but a terrible liar. I had to send messages in code.”

Julia’s surprise registered immediately on her face. “You knew about the interview?”

“I knew about a great many things,” he said stoically. “But I couldn’t tell. That’s the point.”

“Rachel told me not to despair.” She captured his gaze for a moment. “But I needed to hear those words from you. Our last night together, you had sex with me, but you wouldn’t talk to me. What was I supposed to think?”

Tears overflowed her eyes. But before she could wipe them away with her hand, Gabriel’s tugged her from her safe corner into his outstretched arms. He pressed her to his chest and kissed her head, before wrapping his arms around her back.

Somehow, the feel of his arms around her made her cry harder. He squeezed her gently.

“My pride was my downfall. I thought I could court you while you were my student and get away with it. I was wrong.”

“I thought you chose your job instead of me.” Julia’s voice was filled with hurt. “When I discovered you’d moved out of your apartment…Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Forgive me, Julianne. My goal was not to hurt you, I promise. I regret everything that you described.” He kissed her forehead once again. “I need to tell you what happened. It’s a long story. And only you can tell me how it ends…”

Chapter 45

Julia pulled away so she could see his face better, bracing herself for what was to come. Her sudden movement seemed to cause the scent of her hair to waft over to him.

“Your hair is different,” he murmured.

“A little longer, perhaps.”

“It doesn’t smell of vanilla anymore.”

“I changed my shampoo.” She sounded