The keys to the Mercedes were on the kitchen counter, where he’d left them the night before, next to an empty bottle of Coca-Cola. He hadn’t left a note.
A wave of hurt washed over her. The night before had been passionate, perhaps more so than any other night previous. They’d made love against the wall, on the bathroom counter, on the floor, and finally on the bed. The sun was almost peeking over the horizon when he’d finally relented and let them sleep.
Julia had wanted to wake up with him and perhaps, to take her time exploring his body before languorously making love. But such was not her good fortune. Gabriel’s absence and the absence of a note made her feel twinges of anxiety. He hadn’t even left a glass of water or juice at her bedside, as was his custom.
I wonder if this is how his other women felt after spending the night with him. If he even let them spend the night . . .
Her anxiety morphed into unhappiness as she reluctantly climbed the stairs and returned to her room. She changed into her bikini, grabbing her sunglasses and hat before walking to the pool. A swim would keep her occupied.
She swam laps until she’d almost forgotten her conversation with her father the day before, and Gabriel’s evident distress the previous evening. Then she set her feet down in the shallow end, her eyes straying to a pair of running shoes that were situated at the edge of the pool.
“I thought I told you I didn’t want you swimming alone.”
Gabriel stood, holding out a towel. He was dressed in his jogging clothes and he was sweaty, his T-shirt soaked.
“Good morning to you, too.” She swam to the edge and plucked the towel from his grasp.
“Good morning.”
“I wouldn’t have to swim alone if you didn’t leave me,” she muttered, climbing out of the pool.
“You know I like to run in the mornings.”
“It’s almost noon.” She wrapped herself in the towel and faced him, hands on her hips.
He seemed agitated. He glanced at her but wouldn’t make eye contact, and his posture was decidedly uncomfortable.
Julia wondered how a night of fantastic sex could leave her relaxed and weightless and leave him strung as tightly as a bow.
“You could have left a note.”
“I could have,” he said slowly. “I didn’t think of it.”
“If you want to run, that’s fine. Just let me know when you’ll be back.”
Gabriel opened his mouth to protest but suddenly decided against it.
“I’m going to have a shower. I made the hotel reservation for your father yesterday and arranged to have the concierge deliver a fruit basket. I’ll be in my study for most of the day, working. But I’ll take you to dinner in Todi tonight.”
“No.”
He blinked at her. “No?”
“No, Gabriel. You can’t run off to your study after treating me so coldly. No.”
His expression shifted.
“I don’t mean to be cold, Julianne.” His voice was low.
She stared at him.
He scrubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“That’s what you said last night. I hoped our activities would have helped.”
A shadow passed over his features.
He stood in front of her, reaching out to grasp the necklace she was wearing. He ran his thumb over the suspended heart.
“You are always lovely. I could hold you in my arms and make love to you all day, but that wouldn’t solve my problems.”
Julia placed her hand over his. “Then tell me you love me.”
His eyes met hers. “I love you.”
She breathed out a heavy sigh. “Go find your solution. But don’t forget that you aren’t the only person in the house. I don’t want to live with a ghost.”
Gabriel’s eyes grew pained. He kissed her chastely, then exited the enclosed pool area.
True to his word, Gabriel spent the afternoon in his study, behind a closed door.
Julia had no idea what he was doing, although she hoped he was solving whatever problem it was that troubled him so deeply.
Several different scenarios flew through her head. Perhaps Paulina had contacted him, hurling him into a tailspin. Perhaps the revelation of her brother’s illness had caused him to rethink his own desire for a child. Perhaps he was realizing that married life was not what he’d hoped it would be—that the thought of being tied to one woman, to her, was stifling.
Julia’s anxiety increased. She could handle anything, she thought, but Gabriel’s coldness. She’d seen contempt in his eyes before. She’d been dismissed from his presence. She’d survived it once, but the mere thought of him leaving her again was crippling.
In an effort to turn her attention elsewhere, she sat at her computer, investigating the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia and hypoplastic left heart syndrome.