She began to scramble, trying to put everything back in order. She was repeating an apology over and over again like a decade of the Rosary, mumbling something about borrowing Paul’s key. She was sorry. So very, very sorry.
In one stride, Gabriel was next to her, his hand gently but firmly on her shoulder. “It’s all right. You are welcome to be here. Be still.”
Julia closed her eyes and willed herself and her heartbeat to slow. It was very difficult to do; she was so afraid he would lose his temper and banish Paul from his precious carrel. Forever.
Gabriel inhaled sharply, and her eyes flew open, glazing over at his touch.
He brought his head close to her face and peered down at her. “Julianne? You’ve gone pale. Are you unwell?”
He didn’t know what to do. Why was she acting so strangely? Perhaps she was weak from hunger or not quite awake. The room was very warm. Too warm. She’d left the heater on. He caught her just as she swooned, wrapping her tightly and pulling her into his chest. She was not unconscious, at least, not yet.
“Julianne?” He pushed the hair out of her eyes and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek.
She murmured something, and he realized she hadn’t fainted, but was leaning against him as if she didn’t have the strength to stand. He held her to keep her from hitting the upturned chair or the floor.
“Are you okay?”
He began to move her so that she could sit down, but she clung to him, wrapping her arms about his neck without hesitation. He liked the feel of her pressed against him, so he hugged her tightly and leaned down to sniff her hair, somewhat surreptitiously. Vanilla. Her little body pressed against his perfectly, as if their shapes were ideal complements. It was astonishing.
“What happened?” she mumbled against his sweater, which was a brilliant green calculated to contrast with the blue of his eyes.
“I’m not sure. I think you grew light-headed because you stood up too quickly. And it’s hot in here.”
She smiled weakly, a smile that melted his heart.
Julia desperately wanted to kiss him. He was close. So very, very close. Two inches and those lips would be hers…again. And his eyes were soft and warm…and he was being sweet with her…
He pulled back from her minutely, testing her to see if she was going to fall over. When she didn’t, he placed her gently on top of the desk before righting the chair. Then he withdrew to the door of the carrel and straightened his tie.
“I don’t mind if you use the carrel—not at all. I was just surprised to find you here. In fact, I’m glad Paul suggested you use it. There’s no problem.” He smiled to put her at ease, watching as she grasped the surface of the desk for support. “I was looking for a book Paul borrowed.” He held the volume aloft and turned to look at Julia again.
Moving slowly but carefully, she stood up and began to stack books on the desk and pick up the white sheets of paper that had drifted to the floor.
“Were you supposed to meet Paul tonight?”
“He’s gone to a graduate student conference at Princeton. He’s presenting a paper tomorrow.” She looked over at him cautiously, and when she saw that his head was cocked to one side and he was still smiling, she relaxed. Marginally.
“Princeton. Yes, of course. I forgot. That’s a very fine briefcase you have.” He smiled at her knowingly, gesturing to the bag that was propped up against the wall.
Julia blushed, trying very hard to keep her secret knowledge secret.
“But there appears to be something alive in there. I can see a pair of ears poking out of one of the zippers.”
She whirled around. Gabriel was right; two little brown ears could be seen sticking out of the briefcase, almost as if she had tried to smuggle a pet into the library. Julia blushed even more deeply.
“May I?” He gestured to the briefcase, but made no move as he waited for her permission.
Hesitantly, she pulled the stuffed toy out of the briefcase and handed it to him, biting her lip in embarrassment.
Clearly Miss Mitchell has a bunny fetish.
Gabriel held the toy rabbit between his thumb and forefinger, gazing at it curiously as if he didn’t know what it was. Or as if, in a fit of temper, it might decide to emulate the behavior of the famous rabbit in Monty Python and the Holy Grail and go right for his throat. Gabriel placed a hand to his neck as a precaution and resisted the sudden and overwhelming urge to say Ni.
The toy was brown, of course, and soft, made of velvet or something. It had long ears and short limbs and very pleasant-looking whiskers. It stood straight up, looking rather stiff. It looked familiar to him, strangely enough. Something Grace would have owned and loved. Something from a childhood he never had.