Gabriel's Rapture (Gabriel's Inferno 2)

“I’m telling you, you need to freeze the butter first. That’s the way your mom used to do it.” Aaron sounded exasperated.

“How do you know? She didn’t say anything about freezing the butter.” Rachel gestured to the recipe card.

“Grace always froze the butter,” said Gabriel, frowning. “She probably assumed everyone would know that. Where’s Julia?”

Rachel turned on him, wielding a very large wire whisk. “Where have you been?”

His jaw tightened. “Out. Where is she?”

“Upstairs. Unless she decided to go back to her father’s house.”

“Why would she do that?”

Rachel turned her back on her brother and resumed beating a few eggs. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you went out with one of your ex-girlfriends and left her for three hours. I hope Julia dumps your ass.”

“Honey…” Aaron reproved her, touching her shoulder.

“Don’t.” She pushed his hand away angrily. “Gabriel, you’re lucky Scott isn’t here. Because he’d have dragged you outside by now.”

Aaron frowned. “What about me? I could drag Gabriel outside, if I wanted to.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “No, you couldn’t. And right now, I need you to freeze the God damned butter.”

Gabriel muttered something unintelligible and walked away. He took his time as he climbed the stairs, trying desperately to formulate an apology that would be worthy of her.

(Not that it was possible, even with his silver tongue.)

He stood outside the door while he gathered his bearings, inhaling deeply before entering. But the bed was empty.

Puzzled, he searched the room. No Julia.

Returning to the hall, he wondered if she’d sought refuge in Scott’s room, but she hadn’t. The bathroom, likewise, was unoccupied. His eyes alighted on the closed door of the guest room across the hall. He opened it.

Julia was lying in the center of the bed, sound asleep. He contemplated leaving her to her dreams but rejected the idea. They needed to talk, away from prying ears, and at least for the next little while his family was preoccupied.

Wordlessly, he removed his shoes and crawled into bed, spooning behind her. The surface of her skin was smooth but cool. He wrapped himself around her.

“Gabriel?” She blinked sleepily at him. “What time is it?”

“Six thirty.”

She rubbed her eyes. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

“They were waiting for me.”

“Waiting for you to do what?”

“I was out. When I came back, Richard wanted to speak with me.”

“Where did you go?”

He looked away guiltily.

“Were you with her?”

“Her driver’s license is suspended because of the DUI. I dropped her off at a hotel.”

“Why were you gone so long?”

He paused, his expression conflicted. “We were talking.”

“Talking? At a hotel?”

“She’s upset about the turn her life has taken. Her appearance here was a desperate attempt to change direction.”

Julia began curling in on herself, drawing her knees flush against her chest.

“No, no, no,” he chanted, tugging her arms and knees away from her body, trying desperately to relax her defensive posture. “She’s gone, and she won’t be coming back. I told her again that I’ve fallen in love with you. She has my money and she has my lawyers, and that’s it.”

“That’s never been enough for her. She wants you, and she doesn’t care that you’re with me.”

He put his arms around Julia’s unyielding body. “I don’t care what she wants. I’m in love with you, and you are my future.”

“She’s beautiful. And sexy.”

“She’s malicious and petty. I saw nothing beautiful in her today.”

“You made a child together.”

He winced. “Not by choice.”

“I hate sharing you.”

Gabriel scowled. “You will never have to share me.”

“I have to share you with your past—with Paulina, with Professor Singer, with Jamie Roberts—with countless other women I’m probably going to pass on the street in Toronto.”

He set his teeth. “I’ll do my best to protect you from such embarrassing encounters in the future.”

“It still hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “If I could change the past, I would. But I can’t, Julianne, no matter how badly I wish I could.”

“She gave you what I can’t.”

He leaned over her body, his hand pressing down on the mattress next to her hip. “If you were thirsty and someone offered you water from the ocean, would you drink it?”

“Of course not.”

“Why?”

She shuddered. “Because the water is salty and dirty.”

“And if someone gave you the choice between that water and a glass of Perrier, which would you choose?”

“The Perrier, of course. But I don’t see what this has to do with her.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you?”

He moved, bringing his chest to hers, kneeling in between her legs so he could press their hips together. “You don’t see the comparison between you and her? This is my water.” He pressed himself against her again. “You are my water. Making love with you is all I need to quench my thirst. Why would I throw this away for water from the ocean?”

He moved against her as a reminder. “She has nothing to offer me.”

He lowered his face so their noses were inches apart. “And you are beautiful. Every part of you is a masterpiece, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You’re Botticelli’s Venus and Beatrice. Do you have any idea how much I adore you? You captured my heart when I first saw you, when you were seventeen.”

Her body began to relax incrementally under his touch and his quiet words. “How was it left with her?”

“I told her that I didn’t appreciate her dropping in on me and that she was never to do it again. She took it as well as could be expected.”

Gabriel was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. “Come in!”

He rolled onto his side just as Rachel walked in.

“Dinner is on the table, and Tom and Scott are here. Are you two coming downstairs?” She looked from her best friend to her brother and back again. “Do I need to send Scott up here?”

Julia shook her head. “Did he bring his girlfriend?”

“No, she’s spending Christmas with her parents. I asked him to invite her but he gave me a big song and dance.” Rachel looked annoyed. “Do you think he’s embarrassed by us?”

“More likely he’s embarrassed by her,” said Gabriel. “She’s probably a stripper.”

“Professors in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” Rachel glared at her brother and stormed out.

Julia looked puzzled. “What was that about?”

His expression tightened. “My dear sister is less than impressed with Paulina—and me.”

Chapter 9

Jt was a different Christmas Eve than any of them had ever experienced. Grace’s absence was felt most keenly by her husband and children, Aaron wished that he was already married, and Rachel wished that her chicken Kiev was even half as good as her mother’s, frozen butter or not.

After dinner, Gabriel, Tom, and Richard retreated to the back porch to smoke cigars and drink Scotch while the rest of the family enjoyed coffee in the kitchen.

“How was Italy?” Aaron asked Julia as the two of them refilled their mugs from the coffee maker.

“It was great. The weather was good, and we had a wonderful time. How are the wedding plans?”

“They’re coming along. When Rachel tried to rent one hundred doves to be released after the ceremony, I put my foot down. I think some of my gun-toting relatives might be tempted to shoot the damn things.” He winked.

“How are your parents?”

“They’re good. Rachel has been including my mom in the wedding planning, so she’s pretty excited. How are things with you and Gabriel?”

Julia hid her face as she opened the fridge to look for the cream. “Good.”

“Except for his ex showing up.”

She glanced over at him, and he gave her a sympathetic look.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Aaron toyed with a teaspoon. “Gabriel is different when you’re around.” He placed the spoon on the counter and rubbed his chin. “He seems happy.”

“He makes me happy too.”

“A happy Gabriel is about as rare as a hobbit. We’re all glad to see it. As far as the ex is concerned, well, I doubt they were serious. Not like the way he is with you.”

“Thanks, Aaron.”

The two friends exchanged a quick hug.

Later that evening, Julia and Gabriel retired to their room at a bed and breakfast. She was washing her face in the bathroom when she heard the strains of “Lying in the Hands of God” wafting from the bedroom.

Gabriel came to stand behind her, wearing nothing but a pair of navy-blue silk boxer shorts and a smile.

“It isn’t Barry White, but it’s ours.” He watched her for a moment or two, his expression becoming heated. He nuzzled her neck, pushing her hair aside as he fluttered his lips against her skin.