Gabriel's Inferno (Gabriel's Inferno 1)

In an effort to divert himself, Gabriel spent most of his free time that week either preparing for Julianne’s birthday or fencing with the fencing club at the university. Either option was far healthier than his previous habits for blowing off steam.

Every night he would lie awake staring at the ceiling, thinking of Julianne and wishing that her warm, soft body was next to his. He was beginning to have difficulty falling asleep without her, and no amount of tension release (in any form) was eliminating that difficulty. Or his hunger.

It had been a long time since he’d been on a formal date — since Harvard, at least. He cursed himself for his previous foolishness in thinking that his predations at The Vestibule were an adequate or preferable substitution for something real. Something pure.

He missed sex, it was true. Sometimes he wondered how he would be able to keep to his regimen of chastity, whether his hunger might overtake him and he’d work his seductive skills on Julianne’s sweetness. He had no intention of straying from her. He didn’t miss the alienation that came from going home alone from a lover’s apartment and washing her traces from his body as if they were contagions. He didn’t miss the self-loathing he felt when he reflected on past assignations, conquests of women who he would never have introduced to Grace.

Julianne was different. With her he wanted passion and excitement, but also tenderness and companionship. And that realization, although new, continued to both frighten and excite him.

On Saturday afternoon, Julia eagerly read and re-read the e-mail that gave her details about her birthday celebration.

Happy Birthday, Darling.

Please do me the honor of gracing me with your presence at the Royal Ontario Museum this Saturday evening at six o’clock.

Meet me at the Bloor Street entrance.

I shall be wearing the suit and tie and the incredibly wide smile as you walk through the door.

I look forward to the pleasure of your company with great anticipation.

Yours with affection and deepest longing, Gabriel

She complied eagerly, wearing the iris-purple dress that Rachel had bought, along with sheer black stockings and Christian Louboutin heels.

It was too far (and too painful) to walk in those shoes from her apartment to the museum, so she took a cab. She arrived promptly at six, her eyes shining and her cheeks pink with excitement.

I’m going on a date with Gabriel. Our first real date.

It almost didn’t matter that he’d insisted on celebrating her birthday; the thought of having Gabriel to herself for a romantic evening shoved all apprehension aside. She missed him, despite their furtive texts and e-mails and occasional leisurely phone calls.

The museum had undergone a substantial renovation, and a crystal sculpture shaped like the hull of a ship jutted out of the original stone wall.

Julia didn’t like the juxtaposition of modern and Victorian; she preferred one or the other. But perhaps she was in the minority.

As she approached the entrance, she discovered that the museum was closed; its posted hours indicated it had been closed for thirty minutes.

Nevertheless, she walked up to the door and was surprised that she was greeted immediately by a security guard.

“Miss Mitchell?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Your host is waiting for you in the gift shop.”

Julia thanked him and wended her way through the shelves of arti-facts, toys, and tchotchkes. A tall man, impeccably dressed in a navy blue pinstripe suit with side vents, stood with his back toward her. As soon as she saw his form, his broad shoulders, and brown hair, her heart jumped in her chest. Will it always be like this? Will I always feel breathless and weak-kneed whenever I see him?

She knew the answer even before she approached him. When he didn’t turn around, she cleared her throat. “Professor Emerson, I presume.”

He spun around quickly, and as soon as he saw her, he gasped. “Hello, gorgeous.” He pressed his lips to hers a little too enthusiastically and peeled her out of her coat.

“Turn around,” he said thickly.

Julia slowly spun in a circle.

“You’re stunning.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her more forcefully, tugging her lip in between his and gently exploring her mouth.

She pulled back, embarrassed. “Gabriel.”

He gave her a heated look. “We’ll be doing more of that this evening.

We have the entire museum to ourselves. But first…” He reached over to pick up a clear box that had been sitting on a low table nearby. Inside the box was a large, white orchid.

“For me?”

He smirked. “I’m making up for having missed your prom. May I?”

She beamed up at him.

Gabriel removed the flower and tied it to her wrist a little too com-petently, winding the white satin ribbon around her in an elaborate weave.

“It’s lovely, Gabriel. Thank you.” She kissed him sweetly.

“Come.”

She came willingly, but he immediately realized his mistake and stopped. “I mean, if you please.”

She smiled and threaded their fingers together.

They walked over to a large open space where a small, impromptu bar had been set up. Gabriel guided her with his hand at the small of her back.

“How did you arrange this?” she whispered.

“I was one of the donors for the Florentine exhibit. I asked for a private viewing — they gladly complied.” He gave her a half-smile that almost caused her to melt into a puddle on the floor just like in the film Amélie.

The bartender greeted them warmly. “Miss?” he prompted.

“Do you know how to make a Flirtini?”

“Of course, Miss. Coming right up.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows went up, and he leaned over to whisper in her ear,

“That’s an interesting name for a drink. A preview of coming attractions?”

She laughed. “Raspberry vodka, cranberry juice and pineapple. I’ve never had one before, but I read about it online, and it sounded yummy.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Sir?” asked the bartender, handing Julia her drink, garnished with a small slice of pineapple.

“Tonic water with lime, please.”

She was surprised. “You aren’t drinking?”

“There’s a special bottle of wine at my place. I’m waiting for that.” He smiled at her.

Julia waited until Gabriel received his drink so they could toast one another.

“You can bring your — what was it — Flirtini with you. We’re the only guests here.”

“I could nurse one of these all night. They’re pretty strong.”

“We have all the time in the world, Julianne. The entire evening revolves around you…your wants, your desires, your needs.” He winked at her and led her to an elevator. “The exhibit is on the lower level.”

When they entered the elevator, Gabriel turned to her. “Did I tell you how much I missed you this week? The days and nights seemed to last forever.”

“I missed you too,” she said, shyly.

“You look lovely.” He gazed down appraisingly at her high heels. “You are a vision.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s going to take all of my self-control not to spirit you away to the Victorian furniture exhibit so I can make love to you on one of the four poster beds.”

Julia’s eyebrows shot up, and giggling slightly, she wondered what kind of reaction that display would elicit.

He breathed a sigh of relief that his unguarded remark hadn’t caused her to retreat from him. He would have to be more careful.

He’d been actively involved not only in the financing of the exhibit of many of Florence’s treasures, but also in their selection. As they wandered through the several rooms, he offered a few brief words on some of the more impressive items. But mostly they just strolled hand in hand, like a loving couple on a walk, pausing from time to time to embrace or kiss when the mood struck. Which it did, often.

Julia finished her cocktail a bit ahead of schedule, and Gabriel obligingly found a place to leave their glasses. He was happy to have their hands free, finally. She was a Siren for him, an irresistible voice. He stroked her neck, her cheek, her collarbone. He pressed his lips to her hands, her lips, her throat. She was undoing him little by little, and when she smiled or laughed he thought he would catch fire.

They spent quite some time admiring Fra Filippo Lippi’s painting Madonna with the Child and Two Angels, for it was a piece they both admired.

Gabriel stood behind her, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist.

“Do you like it?” he whispered in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Very much. I’ve always loved the serenity on the Virgin’s face.”

“Me too,” said Gabriel, lightly drawing his lips from just under her jaw back to below her earlobe, nuzzling her softly. “Your serenity is very alluring.”

Julia’s eyes rolled back into her head. “Mmmmmmmm,”  she moaned aloud.

He chuckled and repeated his movements, allowing the tip of his tongue to move across the surface of her skin. Only a whisper, only a promise, so light she thought it had to be his lips.

“Does that please you?”

She answered him by reaching up to grasp his hair. It was all the encouragement he needed. He turned her around and pressed her to him, moving his arms to the small of her back.