“We’ve come full circle.” He cleared his throat. “And so there isn’t a misunderstanding, when I say trust, I mean completely. I’m hopeful that in time your anger will disappear and you’ll forgive me. I’m hopeful that we’ll be able to work out our need to protect one another, without causing another crisis.” He looked over at her expectantly.
“I should have waited until you were no longer my student before we became involved. I told myself that because we weren’t sleeping together, we weren’t breaking any rules. But I was wrong. And you’re the one who had to pay the price.” He searched her eyes. “You don’t believe me.”
“Oh, no. I believe you. But the Professor Emerson I knew and loved wasn’t exactly a proponent of abstinence.”
He frowned. “Perhaps you’re forgetting how our relationship began. We abstained the night we met and a good many nights afterward.”
She kissed his mouth repentantly. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
He rolled onto his side, looking into her eyes. “I’m absolutely aching to feel you in my arms, to be joined with you, body and soul. But when I’m inside you, I want you to know that I will never leave you. That you are mine and I am yours, forever.” His voice grew rough. “That we’re married.”
“Come again?”
“I want to marry you. When I make love to you again, I want to be your husband.”
When she gaped at him, he continued quickly. “Richard showed me the kind of man I want to become—a man who spends the rest of his life loving one woman. I want to make vows to you before God and stand in front of our families and make promises to you.”
“Gabriel, I can’t even contemplate marrying you. I need to learn how to be with you again. And frankly, I’m still angry.”
“I understand that, and my intention is not to rush you. Do you remember the first time we made love?”
She felt her cheeks flame. “Yes.”
“What do you remember?”
She paused, a faraway look in her eyes. “You were very intense, but kind. You planned everything, even down to that ridiculous cranberry juice.
“I remember that you were arched over me, looking into my eyes while you moved, and you said that you loved me. I’ll never forget those moments for as long as I live.” She hid her face against his soap-scented neck.
“Are you shy now?” he asked, tracing the symmetry of her jaw with a single finger.
“A little.”
“Why? You’ve seen me naked. I’ve worshipped every beautiful inch of you.”
“I miss the connection we had. I haven’t felt whole without it.”
“I haven’t either. But do you think you could make love to me when you don’t trust me? You forget, my love, that I know you. You are not the type of woman to place your body where your heart will not go.
“Do you remember our last time together? You told me that you felt like I’d fucked you. The next time I have you naked in my bed, I want you to know without doubt that our union is born of love and not lust.”
“That goal can be realized without getting married,” she huffed.
“Perhaps. But if you don’t think you can ever trust me enough to marry me, maybe you should let me go.”
Julia’s eyes widened. “Is that an ultimatum?”
“No. But I want to prove myself to you, and you need time to heal.” He examined her expression carefully. “I need something permanent.”
She gaped at him. “You want something permanent or you need something permanent?”
He shifted his weight on the bed. “Both. I want you to be my wife, but I also want to be the kind of man I should have been before.”
“Gabriel, you are always trying to win me. When are you going to stop?”
“Never.”
She threw up her hands in frustration. “Withholding sex so I’ll marry you is manipulative.”
Gabriel’s expression brightened considerably. “I’m not withholding sex. If you were declaring that you weren’t ready to sleep with me and I tried to pressure you, I’d be a manipulative jackass. Shouldn’t I be allowed to wait to have sex until our relationship is repaired, and to have that choice respected? Or does ‘no means no’ only apply to women?”
“I wouldn’t pressure you if you had an objection to having sex,” Julia sputtered. “You were more than patient with me when I wasn’t ready to sleep with you. But what about make-up sex? Isn’t that customary?”
He brought his face very close to hers. “Make-up sex?” The heat of his gaze almost scorched her skin. “Is that what you want?” his voice rasped.
Welcome back, Professor Emerson.
“Um—yes?”
He took a single finger and traced her trembling lower lip. “Tell me,” he prompted.
She blinked a few times, if only to break the magnetic pull his dark blue eyes had on her. He’d rendered her speechless.
“I want nothing more than to spend days and nights devoted to your pleasure, exploring your body, worshipping you. And I will. On our honeymoon you will find me the most attentive, inventive lover. All my arts will be at your service, and I will endeavor to undo all wrongs when I take you to my bed, as my wife.”
Julia placed her head just over the place where his tattoo lay hidden underneath his crisp white shirt. “How can you be so—cold?”