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.
She thought back to the time when she’d cared for the Professor while he was drunk. She’d helped him to his apartment and he’d vomited all over her.
(And his British racing green cashmere sweater.)
She remembered dragging him to the bathroom and cleaning him up. She ran her fingers through his hair, wondering what it would be like to have a baby to care for. At the time, such musings seemed so remote, so unattainable.
Gazing down on the handsome face of her beloved husband, she knew that something inside her was shifting. Something had changed.
“How is he?” Rebecca eyed Julia with concern as she entered the kitchen the following afternoon.
Julia placed a tray on the counter. “He’s asleep. He says he’s uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t take his pain pills until I threatened him.”
Rebecca laughed. “How did you do that?”
Julia placed the dirty dishes in the sink. “I reminded him that the longer he took to heal, the longer he’d have to wait for sex. He grabbed the pill bottle out of my hand. I don’t think we’ll have trouble getting him to take his medication anymore.”
Rebecca shook her head, smothering a smile.
“Chicken soup for dinner with homemade rolls. How does that sound?” She moved to the stove, where she was simmering an entire chicken in a stockpot.
“Delicious. Thank you.”
“Will you need me to stay this weekend?”
“No. I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Julia looked at Rebecca with interest. “Would you do that?”
Rebecca placed the lid back on the stockpot. “Of course. I can be here whenever you need me, except during the holidays. And even then, if I had advance notice, I could work something out. It might sound silly, but I think of you two as family.”