Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,504

reason to find such a lover, such a wife. When she’d looked into his eyes and said she wanted him to reverse the procedure whether they planned to have a baby or not . . . Gabriel would remember that moment for the rest of his life.

A proverb from the Hebrew Bible came to his mind: Whoso findeth a wife findeth a great good.

It was at night, when he felt tortured by his past and fearful for his future, that his hope was shaken. Rather than leaving her side to haunt the house in search of alcohol, Gabriel resolved to wrap his arms around her and hold on. His brown-eyed angel didn’t eliminate his concerns. But she gave him the strength he needed in order to fight.

The day after their shower, she’d found him in his study on the second floor, poring over a pile of books, his laptop open on the desk.

“Hi.” She entered the study, carrying a glass of Coke. “I brought you a drink.”

He regarded her appreciatively. “Thank you, darling.”

He patted his lap and she placed the drink on the desk before joining him.

“Did you put this here?” He gestured at the toy train engine, which was now sitting atop a stack of files.

“Yes.” She squirmed, wondering how she was going to explain herself.

“I’d forgotten about it. It makes a good paperweight.”

“I should have asked before I went through your things.”

He shrugged. “It was time. The train was one of my favorite toys as a child.”

“It looks like an antique. Where did it come from?”

Gabriel scratched at his chin. “I want to say that it came from my father. I seem to remember him giving it to me. But that can’t be right.”

Julia offered him a sympathetic look.

“What are you working on?”

“My book. I’m writing a section on Hell. I think I’ll include some remarks on the Guido story. I’ll cite your paper as an authority, of course.” He kissed her.

“That will be easier to do now that my paper is being published.”

“Really?”

“I received an email from the conference organizers telling me that a European press has agreed to publish a few of the papers. They want me to submit mine.”

“Your first publication. Congratulations.” Gabriel hugged her tightly, a feeling of pride washing over him.

“It will be a great line item for my CV.” She toyed with his glasses. “But I’m going to need a favor.”

“Anything.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Anything?”

“For you, my love, I would endeavor to pluck the stars from the sky, only to shower them at your feet.”

Julia pressed her hand over her heart. “How do you do that?’

“Do what?”

“Say things like that. That’s beautiful.”

He offered her a half-smile. “I’ve spent years studying poetry, Mrs. Emerson. It’s in my DNA.”

“It certainly is.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him determinedly.

Their embrace grew heated. Gabriel was about to sweep his books from his desk and lay Julianne out on top of it when she remembered she was there to ask him a favor.

“Um, sweetie?”

“Yes?” His voice was a half groan as his hands roamed up and down her sides.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“My paper is going to need some revisions before I send it in. They want the manuscript the first week of December. Will you read it and make some suggestions?”

Her expression telegraphed her trepidation. They’d had a fight about that paper a few months previous. She didn’t want to fight with him about it again.

“Of course. It would be my pleasure. I’ll try not to be a bastard when I give you my comments.”

She grinned wryly. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Now, can we have desk sex or do you want to chat all afternoon?”

“Desk sex, please.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Gabriel removed his glasses, tossing them aside. He closed his laptop and placed it on a nearby shelf before carefully removing the train engine. Then with one sweep of his arm, he sent all the books and papers to the floor before placing Julia on top of the desk.

Then they spent the next hour engaged in a new kind of marital bliss—desk sex.

(Desk sex can be very, very good, but it’s important to remove the staplers first.)

Later, Julia began packing for their trip to Tom and Diane’s wedding, while Gabriel remained in his office, trying to write. He found it difficult to concentrate on Guido da Montefeltro at the site of his most recent (and very passionate) encounter with Julianne.

I might never be able to work at this desk again.

Frustrated, he closed