He dropped his hand to her ass.
“It’s just dinner. She finished her junior year at Duke and she’s here for the summer. I’m going to take her out and, hopefully, persuade her to put a good word in for my dad with her father. We could use his endorsement.”
“Are you going to fuck her?”
Simon snorted. “Are you kidding? She’s a virgin. I had enough of that shit dealing with Julia.”
Natalie wrinkled her nose at the mention of her former roommate.
“What makes you think the Hudson girl is a virgin?”
“Her family is religious. They’re from the South. It’s a guess.”
“Religion didn’t keep Jules from going down on you.” Natalie crossed her arms in front of her.
“Keep your mouth shut about Julia. I don’t need her asshole boyfriend fucking things up for me.”
“He’s her asshole husband now.”
“I don’t care what he is. You know the score.” Simon pulled her closer. “Don’t bring them up again.”
“How do you think I feel? My boyfriend is being set up with another goody two-shoes because his father thinks I’m a whore.”
Simon gripped her ass with both hands.
“We’re finally getting what we want. We just need to wait until after the election.”
“Oh, I can be patient.” She dropped to her knees in front of him, quickly freeing him from the confines of his jeans. “But I think you need a reminder of who you’re walking out on.”
Chapter Thirty-five
Florence, Italy
Gabriel smoked a lonely cigarette out on the terrace, staring at the shards of a broken water glass. He’d upset Julianne.
She’d seen him throw things before. He’d murdered her old cell phone when that motherfucker Simon called her.
Gabriel inhaled, drawing the air deep into his lungs before exhaling through his nostrils.
He did not think of their relationship as tempestuous. Although they’d had more conflict recently. They’d fought back in Selinsgrove over her paper. They’d fought in Umbria when he’d asked about her mother and she’d told him he was mindfucking her.
Tonight they’d descended to a new low when she accused him of thinking she was a bitch. Nothing was further from the truth. He couldn’t even place the word and her name in the same sentence.
But he’d lost his temper before he had the chance to say that.
His secrets were hurting her. He knew that. But he couldn’t unburden himself until he’d found a solution. He didn’t want to appear weak and undecided, or worse, to watch her compassion change into pity. He’d rather alienate her temporarily than lose her respect.
And he hadn’t found a way forward. Not yet. He was caught between two extremes, both of which were unacceptable. At the moment he lacked the courage or the wisdom to find a middle path.
He finished his cigarette and lit another one. Perhaps he lacked both courage and wisdom.
Julianne was correct. If they adopted a child, he’d have to quit. He’d quit cigarettes before, after his stint in rehab. He could quit again.
He thought about Tom and Diane. They’d gone from the elation of discovering they were expecting to the devastation of learning that their child had a life-threatening birth defect. He couldn’t imagine how powerless they felt. He’d had a glimpse of such impotence when Paulina—
Gabriel forced himself to focus on the cigarette he held between his fingers. He couldn’t allow his mind to wander down that road. Not tonight.
He gazed at the skyline of Florence, at the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio, waiting until he was sure Julia was asleep.
He visited the bathroom, brushing his teeth and dropping his clothes to the floor. He showered quickly, knowing that she’d smell the smoke on his skin.
Naked and with damp hair, he slid between the sheets. He didn’t touch her. A quick glimpse of the bed in the lamplight revealed that she was wearing a nightgown and curled on her side, facing away from him.
Message received, sweetheart.
As he settled into bed he thought, perhaps, that he heard a murmur of distress emanating from her direction.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
When she didn’t respond, he switched off the light and turned his back to her.
It only took a moment for Julia to shift so she was spooning him from behind.
“I’m sorry, too.”
“We promised we wouldn’t go to bed angry anymore.”
“I’m not angry, Gabriel, I’m hurt.”
He reached back to grasp her wrist and pulled her arm so that it draped over his waist. “You’re right about Maria. I just wanted to do something.
“I don’t think you’re a bitch. I’d never think of you that way. You’re my beloved.”
“Then I need you to be kind to me. I have to tell you, Gabriel, this past little while has been really difficult. I don’t want our marriage to be like this.”
His body tightened.
“I’ll find a way to make it up to you. I promise.”
“I don’t want you to make it up to me. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I will. I promise.”