Home > Gabriel's Inferno (Gabriel's Inferno #1)(79)

Gabriel's Inferno (Gabriel's Inferno #1)(79)
Author: Sylvain Reynard

“Part of me was worried you wouldn’t be here when I woke up.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Gabriel. My feet are still aching from walking everywhere in those heels yesterday. I don’t think I could make it home even if I wanted to.”

“I can fix that. With a little help from a hot bath.” He moved his eyebrows suggestively.

Julia flushed and changed the subject. “How long did you want me to stay?”

“Forever.”

“Gabriel, be serious.” She shook her head, smiling.

“Till Monday morning.”

“I only have clothes for today. I’ll have to go home and pick up a few things.”

He smiled at her indulgently. “I’ll take you home, if you insist. Or I’ll lend you the Range Rover. But before you go, there are a couple of things waiting for you in the bedroom. Perhaps a trip home will be unnecessary.”

“What things?”

He waved his hands. “Things someone might need if they were staying at a friend’s house.”

“And where did they come from?”

“The store where Rachel bought your messenger bag.”

“So they were expensive.” Julia frowned and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“You are my guest. The rules of hospitality require that I satisfy all your needs.” He sounded husky, his tongue peeking out to swipe across his lower lip.

Through a great force of effort, Julia ignored his mouth. “It feels…

illicit if you are buying me clothes.”

“What are you talking about?” Now he sounded cross.

“Like I’m some — ”

“Stop it.” He released her immediately, and his eyes darkened.

She stared back at him, bracing for the deluge to come.

“Julianne, why do you have this aversion to generosity?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. Do you think I’m trying to bribe you into having sex with me?”

Her face reddened. “Of course not.”

“Do you think I’m buying you things because I expect you to pay for them in sexual trade?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to owe you.”

“Owe me? So now I’m a medieval moneylender who charges interest, and if you don’t pay on time, I’ll take a pound of your flesh.”

“I don’t think that,” she whispered.

“Then what do you think?”

“I think that I want to stand on my own two feet. You’re a professor, and I’m a student and — ”

“We discussed that last night. A present from a friend does nothing to inhibit your free will or your personal autonomy,” he fumed. “I didn’t want you to have to go home. Our time together is short enough as it is.

I walked across the street to the store and had my personal shopper assist me in picking out a few things. I was trying to be nice. But since you don’t want them, I’ll see that they are returned.”

He stood up and deposited his coffee cup in the kitchen. Then he walked right past her without saying a word and disappeared into his study.

That could have gone better, thought Julia .

She nibbled at her nails with her teeth, not knowing what to do. On the one hand, she wanted to be independent and not play the part of the poor helpless bird with the broken wing. On the other hand, she had a kind heart and did not like to cause other creatures pain. She had seen Gabriel’s eyes. Behind his sudden show of temper, he was hurt. Deeply.

I didn’t mean to hurt him…

Gabriel was so forceful, so strong, she hadn’t realized that he could be so sensitive. And over something that seemed as inconsequential as a few gifts. Perhaps she was the only one who ever saw his sensitivity. That made the fact that she’d hurt him all the more painful.

She poured herself a glass of water and drank it slowly, trying to give him some space and herself a few minutes to think. As she approached his study, the telephone rang. She stuck her head through the doorway and peered over at him.

Gabriel was sitting behind his desk, shuffling papers while he spoke on the phone. He glanced over at her, pointed at the telephone, and mouthed the name Richard.

She nodded and walked over to his desk, picked up a pen that did not look expensive, and wrote on a piece of paper: Forgive me. She showed him the paper and his eyes met hers. He nodded stiffly.

I’m going to take a shower. Can we talk afterward?

He read her note and nodded again.

Thank you for being so thoughtful. I’m sorry.

Now Gabriel reached out his hand to grasp Julia’s wrist. He pressed his lips to the center of her palm before releasing her with a squeeze.

She returned to the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Immediately, she placed the shopping bags on the bed and reluctantly began to unpack them.

In the first bag, she found women’s clothes, all in her size. Gabriel had purchased a classic black pencil skirt, black flat front Theory pants, a white cotton dress shirt with a shirttail and French cuffs, and a Santorini blue silk blouse. A pair of argyle patterned stockings, trouser socks, and black pointed-toe ankle boots completed the ensemble. It was like a small, essential collection from a single designer. Not to be ungrateful, but she would have been happy with a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and sneakers.

In the second bag she was shocked to find lingerie. Gabriel had purchased an elegant and obviously expensive purple silk bathrobe and matching nightgown, which was ankle length and had a ruffled V-neckline. Julia was simultaneously surprised and pleased at the modesty and sophistication of the gown, for truly it was an item that she would feel comfortable wearing to bed with him even at this stage in their relationship. At the bottom of the bag she found a pair of purple satin mules with kitten heels. Julia surmised that they were a health hazard masquerading as sexy bedroom slippers.

Clearly, Gabriel has a thing for heels…in all kinds of women’s footwear.

The third and final bag contained underwear. Julia’s cheeks flushed red as she unwrapped three lace demi-bras, each with matching panties, all by a French designer. One set was champagne-colored, one was ice blue, and the other was pale pink. The panties were all boy shorts made of lace. Julia blushed even more deeply when she imagined Gabriel combing through racks of racy and expensive underwear, settling on items that were attractive and elegant, purchasing exactly the right sizes.

Oh gods of all really generous (boyfriends? friends?), thank you for steering him away from the really provocative items…for now.

She was overwhelmed. She was slightly embarrassed. But everything was so beautiful, so delicate, so perfect. He might not love me, but he cares about making me happy, she thought.

Clutching the champagne-colored underwear, white shirt, and black pants, she entered Gabriel’s washroom and took a shower. Not only was her lavender poof waiting for her, but miraculously her own brand of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash were also present. Gabriel, in his own obsessive way, had thought of everything.

She was proudly wearing her new robe and towel drying her hair when she heard a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Gabriel peeked his head around the door. “Are you sure?” He eyed her wet hair, and then his eyes wandered down her flowing purple robe to her bare feet and returned to rest on the naked flesh at her neck.

“I’m decent. It’s all right.”

Gabriel strode toward her, his eyes dark and hungry. “You may be decent, but I’m not.”

Julia smiled at him appreciatively, and he smiled in return, his hunger checked somewhat.

He leaned against the countertop of the vanity and placed his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“I overreacted.”

“So did I.”

“Let’s make up.”

“Please,” she said.

“That was easy.” Gabriel chuckled and took the towel out of her hands, tossing it aside. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. “Do you like your robe?” He fingered the silk hesitantly.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I’ll send the rest back.”

“No. I like everything. And I like them even more because you picked them. Thank you.”

Gabriel’s kisses could be light and sweet, like the kisses given by a boy to his first love. But not at this moment. Now he pressed his lips to hers until her lips parted and gave her a long, heated kiss before retreating. He ran the back of his hand up and down the curve of her cheek.

“I would have chosen jeans, but Hilary, my personal shopper, persuaded me that it’s very difficult to buy jeans for another person. If you’d rather wear something more casual, I’ll take you to buy something else.”

“I don’t need another pair of jeans.”

“You should know that I chose everything except the underwear. Hilary picked them.” He saw surprise on her face and hastened to explain. “I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“Too late,” she mumbled, somewhat disappointed at his revelation.

“Julianne, I need to explain something.” His eyes grew serious, and she felt a chill of some kind travel across the surface of his skin. He shifted his weight once or twice as he seemed to search for the right words.

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