He spread her knees, pushing her robe out of the way. Then he stood between her legs.
His eyes drifted down. “No panties this morning?”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Lucky for me.” He smiled while his fingers fumbled with the knot at her waist. “Lucky for us your cycle hasn’t started yet.”
She placed her hands over his, stopping him.
“Will you teach me to shave you?”
“Shaving is overrated.”
“I’d like to do this for you.”
He made a show of sighing, as if his patience were being tested. Then he picked up the razor. “Shave with the direction the hair grows, but don’t apply pressure. The blade is very sharp.”
He stepped away, looking in the mirror as he demonstrated his technique. Satisfied with his display, he rinsed the razor before placing it in her hand.
She looked at him. Then she looked at the razor, at the blade that gleamed in the halogen light.
“Stage fright, Mrs. Emerson?”
“I’m afraid I’ll make you bleed.”
His eyes bore into hers. “Then you know how I felt your first time.”
Julia’s heart rate increased at the memory. He’d been very worried that night, but very, very gentle.
He pressed his lips to her wrist, drawing on the skin. “You’ll be careful.”
He separated the edges of her robe before pushing the silk over her shoulders. Then he placed his palm between her br**sts, feeling her heartbeat.
Julia arched an eyebrow. “You want me to shave you, half– naked?”
“No.” He moved his mouth to her ear and dropped his voice to a throaty whisper. “I want you to shave me completely naked.”
He took his time unfastening her belt, as if he were unwrapping a gift. Then he stood between her knees again.
“There’s nothing sexier than having the woman you love shave you, while you enjoy her body.”
Julia shuddered as the cooler air swirled around her heated skin. She placed her left hand on his shoulder to steady herself.
He nodded and she began.
The safety razor glided simply and easily over his skin without any need for pressure. All the while, two sapphire eyes focused on her.
He placed his hands at her waist and began stroking her hip bones with his thumbs.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She rinsed the razor. “I’ll nick you.”
“Perhaps it would be an exercise in self-control for both of us.”
His fingertips traced a path up to her br**sts, circling them lightly. When she moaned, he slid his hands back to her waist.
“I like the feel of your skin under my hands.”
She met his gaze. “So do I.”
She swallowed hard and returned to what she was doing, trying to ignore the feel of his fingers gliding over her abdomen and between her br**sts. He began to tease her ni**les, which were extremely sensitive.
“I guess you must trust me,” she ground out, trying to keep her hand steady.
He stroked a finger over the prominent peaks. “I do, Julianne. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”
His eyes were tender, their blue intensity communicating far more than his words could. “But I can’t see you and not touch you.”
He cupped her br**sts, cradling them gently in deference to her forthcoming cycle.
Patiently, she worked the razor over the parts of his face that were yet unshaven while he fondled and teased her. Her breathing grew shallow.
He dropped his hands to her inner thighs, where the skin was slightly sensitive from being teased by his stubble. He moved higher, inch by tantalizing inch.
With a few last strokes of the razor, she pulled back to admire her handiwork. “I think we’re finished.”
He kissed her lightly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She put the razor aside, leaning back on her hands.
“But I don’t think we’re finished yet.” His eyes glinted as he moved to the juncture of her thighs. His thumbs tangled in her curls.
She licked her lower lip.
“Then drop the towel, Professor.”
Gabriel’s procedure was unremarkable. What was remarkable, however, was the grimness of the surgeon’s face when he came to see Julia in the waiting room.
“Mrs. Emerson.” He greeted her, moving to sit in the empty chair beside her.
She closed her laptop. “How is he?”
“The surgery went well. It was complicated, but nothing unexpected. We also retrieved some sperm and froze it, as your husband directed.”
“Gabriel said that you have a very high success rate.” Julia sounded hopeful.
“I do. Some of my patients have conceived a child as early as three months after the procedure. But every case is different.” The doctor’s expression grew serious. “During surgery, your husband had a reaction to the anesthesia.”
“A reaction? Is he all right?” Julia’s heart began to race.
“He’ll be fine, but he’s been vomiting. He’s on intravenous and I want him to stay overnight. He’s in recovery now, then they’ll move him to a room. I’ll make sure someone comes to get you so you can stay with him.”
The surgeon eyed Julia’s worried expression.
“These kinds of reactions to general anesthesia are not uncommon. We’ll monitor him as a precaution, and he’ll probably be ready to go home tomorrow.”
The doctor patted her hand and disappeared through a set of swinging doors.
“Gabriel?” Julia whispered.
He’d been moaning and thrashing a little in his hospital bed. She leaned over to take his hand.
“Sweetie? The surgery went well. You’re going to be fine.”
His eyes opened suddenly.
She pushed his hair back from his forehead.
“Hi, baby.”
He closed his eyes. “I feel like a baby. I feel like hell, actually. Dizzy.”
“Are you going to be sick?”
He shook his head. “Tired.”
“Then go to sleep, darling. I’m here.”
“Pretty baby,” he mumbled, before drifting into sleep.
Julia pressed her lips to his forehead.
I love this man with all my heart. I’d give my life for him. I’d give anything for him.
It was unusual to see Gabriel as he appeared in the hospital bed. He rarely, if ever, got sick. When he wasn’t asleep, the strength of his presence dominated his surroundings.
Now his personality was muted. Quiet. Vulnerable.