Gabriel enough of a head start so he could make it to the elevators before Tom took out one of his hunting rifles and shot him.
“I know. I called him.”
She turned to Gabriel in wide-eyed disbelief. “Why would you do that? He wants to kill you.”
The Professor pulled himself up to his full height. “I want to marry you. That means that I need to make amends with your father. I want to be able to be in the same room without him attempting to shoot me. Or castrate me.”
“This is not a good time to ask him about marrying me,” Julia whispered. “If you’re lucky, he’ll forego castration in order to remove your legs—with his Swiss Army knife.”
“I’m not going to ask for his permission to marry you; that decision rests with you. Would you really want to marry a man your father despises?”
Julia began to wring her hands in agitation.
He leaned over to speak in her ear. “Let me do some damage control so it isn’t beyond the realm of possibility for him to accept our relationship. You might want him to walk you down the aisle someday.”
No sooner had the words left Gabriel’s lips then Tom saw the couple standing together. He smiled at his little girl widely, then glanced at Gabriel and scowled. As he stood to his feet, he brushed his jacket back so his hands could rest on his hips. He looked menacing.
O gods of women whose fathers wish to castrate their boyfriend in the lobby of the Four Seasons, please don’t let him be carrying anything sharp.
Gabriel boldly leaned over to press his lips to her forehead while staring Tom straight in the eye. Tom fixed him with a murderous expression.
“Dad, hi.” Julia walked over and hugged him.
“Hi, Jules.” He hugged her back before pulling her behind him protectively. “Emerson.”
Undeterred by Tom’s unfriendly tone, Gabriel stuck his hand out. Tom simply stared at it as if it, like its owner, was felonious.
“I think we should find a quiet corner in the bar. I don’t want an audience for what I have to say to you. Jules, do you need help carrying your luggage?”
“No, the porter has it. I’m, um, going to my room. Gabriel, I’ll let you check into your room yourself, okay?”
He nodded, noting that Tom’s scowl relaxed slightly at the news that his daughter was not currently cohabitating with the Devil.
“Just for the record, I love both of you. So I’d really like it if you didn’t injure one another.” Julia looked warily between the two men, and when both failed to answer, she shook her head and walked to the front desk. Her first order of business was to find out how well stocked the mini-bar was.
* * *
Later that evening, after a somewhat tense but not unpleasant dinner with her father, Julia availed herself of the gift basket of lavender bath products Gabriel had sent to her room, complete with virginal lavender poof. She laughed when she thought of the first time he’d poofed her.
She sobered when she realized that he’d purchased lavender items rather than vanilla, despite the fact that he preferred vanilla on her to any other scent. Perhaps this was his way of keeping her at arm’s length. Whatever his reason, she’d respect his wishes and hope that he’d change his mind. Soon.
She was soaking in the large, pedestal bathtub when her cell phone rang. Luckily, the accursed device was well within reach.
“What are you doing?” Gabriel’s smooth voice filled her ears.
“Just relaxing. Thank you for the gift basket, by the way. How are you?”
“I can’t say my conversation with your father was enjoyable, but it was necessary. I gave him the chance to curse me and say that I’m a no good cokehead who doesn’t deserve you. Then I did my best to explain what happened. By the end of our conversation, he begrudgingly bought me a beer.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“I can’t imagine Tom paying ten dollars for a Chimay Première.”
Gabriel chuckled. “It was Budweiser, actually. And not the original Budweiser Budvar from the Czech Republic. He ordered for me.”
“I guess you must love me, if you’re willing to give up your pretentious European imports for appalling bath water.” Julia gave the large bathtub a baleful look. She would rather have been bathing with Gabriel than without him.
“Drinking a domestic beer is the least I could do. I don’t think your father will forgive me for hurting you, but hopefully things will improve. I told him