She flinched, but he pretended not to notice and reclined on his side by her legs, drawing them close to his chest. He undid her sneakers and pulled off her socks,tenderly caressing the soles of her feet and her toes, making her moan in spite of herself.
“Relax, Julianne. Don’t fight it. This is supposed to be nice.” He murmured from time to time, more to himself than to her, and at one point Julia thought she heard him say la sua immagine. But she couldn’t be sure. His voice was low, like a whisper or a prayer.
She silently wondered if he was referring to her or to Beatrice, and which debauched gods he was addressing. Just as silently, she begged them to aid in her escape, instead.
Please don’t let him consume me.
“I seem to recall that you liked my Magdalen College boxer shorts. They’re in the top drawer, if you’d care to borrow them. They don’t fit me anymore.”
Julia sniffled. “Your pictures…the ones you used to have on the wall. Is that what you want?”
Gabriel’s hands stilled against her feet. “What are you talking about?”
Her eyes darted nervously to where the sixth photograph had hung and back to Gabriel. His face morphed rapidly from surprise into horror.
“Of course not! What do you take me for?” His voice was a tragic, offended whisper. “You’re here, you’re tired. I don’t want to run the risk of losing you again before we talk.” He smiled minutely. “I want to make you a breakfast tray with parsley and orange sections, not take your virginity. And certainly not like that.” He seemed disgusted. “I’m not a barbarian.”
When she didn’t respond, he slipped her feet under the covers. He tucked her in as if she were a child and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, smoothing her hair back from her face.
“Let’s try to forgive one another, shall we? We’ve both been hurt, and we’ve both wasted so many years. Let’s not waste any more time jumping to conclusions.”
He stood up and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “It’s quite possible you won’t want me tomorrow, anyway,” he muttered. Then he stood to attention and gave her a small smile. “Call me if you need anything.”
While Julia tossed and turned alone, she heard Gabriel playing the stereo, softly but fluidly. She didn’t recognize the music, but with the sounds of arpeggios imitating waterfalls she eventually fell into a light sleep.
Later that night, Gabriel was lying on his back in the guest bed, his arm crooked over his face. He was hovering in between wakefulness and dreaming when he felt a slight shift at his left. A warm body moved toward him, gently tugging at the covers.
The body crawled in beside him and molded itself to his side. He felt long, soft curls whisper across his now naked chest. He heard a small, contented sigh as an arm slid across the ridges of his abdominal muscles, eventually resting on top of them. Gabriel pressed a gentle kiss to the forehead that was placed above his tattoo and slid his arm around the shoulders and down to the lower back, hesitantly moving his fingers under the T-shirt until they came in contact with soft, smooth skin. And dimples just above the waistband of a pair of boxers that were far too large.
The warm body sighed again and pressed soft lips to the stubble at his neck. “I tried to stay away…” Julia’s voice was hesitant, “…but I couldn’t.”
“I tried not to lick chocolate off your fingers. But I couldn’t.” Gabriel’s voice was playful but there was a note of underlying sadness.
She hummed unconsciously at his remark. “Why did you remove the photographs in your bedroom?”
He squirmed in her arms. “Because I was ashamed.”
“You weren’t before.”
“That was before I decided to bring an angel to my bed.”
Lazy but curious hands caressed naked skin, exploring gently but chastely. Sighs commingled in the dark as two souls breathed as one. Two heartbeats synchronized when they recognized one another. And two troubled, conflicted minds finally came to rest.
Just as Gabriel was drifting off, he thought he heard her talking in her sleep; not words, just utterances that grew progressively more panicked, culminating in her breathless release of a name he’d not heard before.
“Simon.”
Chapter 17
When Julia awoke, she yawned and stretched, reaching her hand out and…nothing. Gabriel was gone and his side of the bed was cold. A feeling of unease washed over her. The feeling was old; she’d felt it before. It made her momentarily nauseated.
She swung her legs to the floor and saw a small note on the bedside table, propped up against a wine goblet, which was filled with water floating with lemon slices. The note was written with a fountain pen: Lovely Julianne,
I’ve gone to pick up something
special for breakfast.
Please use the washroom in the
master bedroom; it’s better.
I’ve laid out some personal items for you there.
You can also choose whatever you need
from my dresser and my closet.
Please stay.
Yours,
Gabriel.
P.S. Forgive my boldness,
but you asleep in my arms this morning
was by far the most beautiful sight