Julia thought back to what she’d seen that day—the way Gabriel was with Maria and the other children. At that moment, Julia truly wanted to give him what he was asking for. But she knew it was wrong.
“We would. But if we love her, we need to do what’s best for her. And that’s probably finding a local family. Not two American newlyweds who don’t know what they’re doing. You’d have to give up smoking.”
“That isn’t a problem.” He looked at her carefully. “You’re worried about the drugs, aren’t you?”
She squirmed and he frowned at her.
“You don’t seem to have a lot of confidence in me.”
“I have every confidence in you. But you have to remember that I watched my mother relapse more than once.”
He disentangled himself from her arms. “Well, I’m not going to relapse.”
“Good.”
“Maybe we should talk about your own relapses. Just last month you were struggling with something and you turned to Paul.”
Julia’s brown eyes flashed. “You don’t get to throw that back in my face. I apologized, remember?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said stiffly.
“Are we having an honest and open conversation? Or are you trying to manipulate me?”
Gabriel glared. “We’re having an honest and open conversation. I apologize for bringing up Paul.”
She sighed.
“I understand that it’s difficult to work with the children at the orphanage and to leave them there. I feel it too. But it isn’t in Maria’s best interest for us to take her now.”
“The orphanage is good, but it isn’t the same thing as having a family.”
“Which is exactly why we shouldn’t take her.”
Gabriel moved to his feet. “That is not the Julianne I know speaking.”
“Oh, yes it is.” She stood in front of him.
“The Julianne I know would give the clothes off her back to a homeless person.”
She took a step closer, her face flushed with anger.
“I would give the clothes off my back for Maria. But I want her to be with a family who are stable and experienced when it comes to children. She’s been traumatized. Taking her to a place where she doesn’t know the language, away from her city and her friends, would only upset her. We’d be hurting, not helping. And I won’t let you do that. And I don’t care if you think that I’m being a coldhearted bitch or whatever the hell you have running through your mind.”
She gave him a reproachful look before retreating to the bedroom.
“Fuck!” he shouted, picking up her glass of water and throwing it.
The glass shattered against the floor of the terrace.
From a distance, Gabriel heard the door to the bathroom slam shut.
He placed his hands on the balcony, leaning against the edge, and hung his head.
Chapter Thirty-four
August 2011
Washington, D.C.
Senator Talbot’s son Simon stood to his feet and quickly pulled on his jeans.
“Where’s my shirt?” He looked in vain for the light blue polo that perfectly matched the color of his eyes.
“It’s on the chair.” His girlfriend, Natalie, sat up, not bothering to clutch the sheet to her chest.
As usual, his eyes dropped to her breasts, which had been surgically enhanced the year previous. He placed a knee on the bed.
“God, I’m glad I bought these.” He dropped his head and drew one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking it strongly before biting with his teeth.
“Come on.” She reached out to palm him through his jeans, but he pulled back.
“I have to go. I’ll call you.” He located his shirt and pulled it over his head before hastily retrieving his shoes and socks.
“When will I see you?” She knelt behind him and pressed her lips to his neck. With a single finger, she traced his jaw, gliding over the scars that were the result of his one and only violent encounter with Gabriel Emerson.
He shook her off. “Stop that.”
“I’m sorry.” She sat back on her heels repentantly. “No one notices them. I think they make you look rugged.”
He turned, his eyes glacial pools.
She tilted her head to one side. “When will I see you?”
“Not for a while.”
“Why not?”
“We need to cool off.”
“But things have been going well. I work for your father now, for God’s sake.”
“And I told him we were casual. That was his condition for hiring you. I can’t be seen going in and out of your apartment anymore. People are watching.”
“Then we can meet at a hotel.” She reached for him but caught only air.
Simon walked toward the bedroom door. “He wants me to take Senator Hudson’s daughter to dinner.”
“What?” She leapt from the bed. She stood in front of him, naked, her green eyes sparking with anger and her long, red hair a riotous mess.
Simon placed one of his hands on the back of her neck.
“Don’t get hysterical.”
She shivered at the coldness of his voice. “I won’t. I’m sorry.”
He stroked his thumb along the curve of her neck.
“Good. Because I don’t like it when you get hysterical.”