Gabriel's Rapture (Gabriel's Inferno #2)

Gabriel's Rapture (Gabriel's Inferno #2) Page 61

He mumbled again and this time she whispered in his ear. “I’m here.”

She pressed her lips to his tattoo and closed her eyes.

Chapter 49

Despite the pain of their continued physical separation, Julia recognized that Gabriel was constantly discovering new and ingenious ways to demonstrate his love. Though she found their new situation difficult, she continued to have faith in him.

He refused to even entertain the notion of spending the night inside her small dorm room, but he’d drop in on occasion with flowers or food, and they would picnic on the floor. He took her to the movies, (even deigning to see a non-subtitled, domestically produced romantic comedy), and kissed her goodnight on the front steps of her building.

On more than one occasion, he spent a Friday or Saturday evening in the library with her, writing his new book while she prepared for Professor Marinelli’s seminar. Julia was being wooed in word and deed, and she liked it. But she was also unsatisfied, craving the closeness that could only be had when making love.

Soon it was August twenty-first and they were flying to Philadelphia to help with the preparations for Rachel and Aaron’s wedding. As they walked into the lobby of the Four Seasons hotel, Julia was stunned to find her father sitting in a wing chair, reading the Philadelphia Inquirer.

“My dad is here,” she hissed, hoping to give 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 that I want to marry you. Did he mention that over dinner?”

She hesitated. “He told me that I was his little girl and that he wanted to protect me. Then he said some things about you that weren’t very complimentary.

“But he admitted I’m an adult and that I need to live my own life. He said it was clear to him that you’d changed—even since he’d seen you last. I think you surprised him. And he isn’t used to being surprised.”

“I’m sorry.” Gabriel’s voice sounded pained.

“Sorry for what?”

“For not being the kind of man you could bring home to your father.”

“Listen, my dad thought the sun shone out of Simon’s ass. He isn’t exactly the best judge of character. And he doesn’t know you as I know you.”

“But he’s your father.”

“I’ll handle him.”

Gabriel was quiet for a moment as he contemplated her response. “My conversation with Tom was a good warm up for dinner with my family.”

“Oh, no. How did that go?”

He paused. “Talking to Scott on the telephone is one thing, but having dinner with him is something else.”

“He’s protective of me. I’ll talk to him.”

“Dad asked me to offer a toast to Mom at the wedding reception.”

“Oh, darling. That’s going to be difficult. Are you sure you want to do that?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment.

“I have some things I need to say. Things almost thirty years in the making. Now’s my chance.”

“So you’ve kissed and made up with everyone?”

“Basically. Dad and I made our peace on the telephone weeks ago.”

“Did you meet Tammy’s little boy?”

Gabriel snorted into the phone. “He soiled me as soon as I picked him up. Perhaps Scott coached him to make his feelings about me known.”

“Quinn peed on you?”

“No, he spilled milk all over my new Armani suit.”

Julia dissolved into peals of laughter at the thought of the very elegant, very particular professor being soiled by his brother’s girlfriend’s son.

“Is it wrong that I didn’t care that much? I mean about the suit.”

Julia stopped laughing abruptly. “You didn’t care? What did you do with it?”

“The concierge sent it to be dry-cleaned. I’ve been assured that milk will come out of wool crepe, but I’m not holding my breath. Suits can be replaced, people can’t.”

“You surprise me, Professor.”

“How so?”

“You’re sweet.”

“I try to be sweet with you,” he whispered.

“That’s true. But I’ve never seen you around children.”

“No,” he said quickly. “You’d make beautiful babies, Julianne. Little girls and boys with big brown eyes and pink cheeks.”

Julia’s sharp intake of breath whistled in Gabriel’s ear.

His voice almost caught in his throat. “Is it premature to have this conversation?”

She didn’t answer.

“Julianne?”

“My hesitation about marriage isn’t over having children. It comes from what happened between us and being a child of divorced parents. They loved each other once, I think, and ended up hating each other.”

“My parents were married happily for years.”

“That’s true. If I could have a marriage like theirs—”

“We can have a marriage like theirs,” Gabriel corrected her. “That’s what I want. And I want it with you.”

He tried to communicate with his tone how much he desired a marriage like the one Richard and Grace enjoyed. How he was trying desperately to become the kind of man who could give Julia that kind of marriage.

She exhaled slowly. “If you’d asked me to marry you before, I would have said yes. But I can’t right now. There’s so much we need to work through, and I’m already stressed out about grad school.”

“I don’t mean to stress you out.” His voice was soft but slightly strained.

“I thought you made your decision about having children.”

“There’s always adoption.” He sounded defensive.

She was quiet for a moment.

“The thought of having a little blue eyed baby with you makes me happy.”

“Really?”

“Really. Seeing what Grace and Richard did with you, I’d be interested in adopting someday. Just not while I’m a student.”

“The adoption would have to be private. I doubt a respectable agency would place a child with a drug addict.”

“Do you really want children?”

“With you? Absolutely. If we were married, I’d consider having my vasectomy reversed. It was done many years ago so I don’t know how successful a reversal might be. But once we’re married I’d like to try—with your blessing.”

“I think it’s premature to have that conversation.” The arm she was leaning on accidentally slipped off the side of the bathtub, splashing into the water.

Scheisse, she thought, too worn out to call on a god to come to her rescue.

“Are you taking a bath?”