Gabriel took her offered lips and with great restraint slowly peeled the lace bra away from her body. He kissed her deeply, languidly exploring her mouth, before tugging her panties down.
Now she was naked before him in their orchard.
O gods of all orchard sex, she thought. Please don’t let anyone interrupt us.
She removed his shirt eagerly, her fingers playing in the few strands of chest hair before sliding over his abdominal muscles to unbuckle his belt.
When they were both naked, he wrapped his arms around her and she breathed out a sigh.
“It’s a good thing it’s warm tonight,” he whispered. “We only brought one blanket.”
With a smile she lowered herself to the ground and he covered her with his body. His blue eyes bore into hers as he placed a hand on either side of her face.
“‘To the Nuptial Bowre I led her blushing like the Morn: all Heav’n,
And happie Constellations on that houre.’”
“Paradise Lost,” she whispered, stroking the stubble on his chin. “But in this place, I can only think of Paradise found.”
“We should have been married here. We should have made love here for the first time.”
She ran her fingers through his hair.
“We’re here now.”
“This is where I discovered true beauty.”
He kissed her again, his hands gently exploring. Julia reciprocated, and their passion kindled and burned.
In the months since their marriage, their desire had not abated, nor had the sweetness of their coupling. All speech melted into motion and touch and the bliss of physical love.
Gabriel knew his wife—he knew her arousal and excitement, her impatience and release. They made love in the night air surrounded by darkness and the greenness of life.
At the edge of the clearing, the old apple trees that had observed their chaste love in the past politely averted their gaze.
When at last they’d caught their breaths, Julia lay weightless, admiring the stars.
“I have something for you.” He felt around for the flashlight and used it to locate his trousers. When he returned to her side he slipped something cool around her neck.
Julia glanced down to see a necklace made of individual rings. Three charms hung from the necklace—a heart, an apple, and a book.
“It’s beautiful.” She breathed, fingering the charms one by one.
“It came from London. The rings and charms are silver, except for the apple, which is made of gold. It represents when we met.”
“And the book?”
“Dante is engraved on the cover.”
She looked at him coyly. “Is there a special occasion I’ve forgotten about?”
“No, I just enjoy giving you things.”
Julia kissed him deeply and he moved her to her back, once again putting the flashlight aside.
When they separated, he placed his palm against her flat stomach and brought his lips to the indentation that lay just beyond his thumb.
“I want to plant my child here.”
As his words echoed in the clearing, Julia froze.
“What?”
“I’d like to have a child with you.”
She caught her breath. “So soon?”
His thumb moved over her skin. “We never know how much time we have.”
Julia thought of Grace, his adoptive mother, and of her biological mother, Sharon. Both died at younger ages, but under very different circumstances.
“Dante lost Beatrice when she was twenty-four,” he continued. “Losing you would be devastating.”
Julia reached up to touch the slight dimple in his chin. “No morbid talk. Not here, after we’ve celebrated life and love.”
Gabriel spread repentant kisses across her abdomen before reclining on his side.
“I’ve almost outlived Beatrice and I’m healthy.” She placed her hand on his chest, over his tattoo, and touched the name on the bleeding heart. “Is your anxiety because of Maia?”
Gabriel’s features tightened. “No.”
“It’s all right if it is.”
“I know she’s happy.”
“I believe that too.” Julia hesitated, as if she were going to say something more.
“What?”
“I was thinking about Sharon.”
“And?”
“She wasn’t a good role model as a mother.”
He leaned forward to brush his lips against hers.
“You’d be an excellent mother. You’re loving, patient, and kind.”
“I wouldn’t know what I was doing.”
“We’d figure it out together. I’m the one who should be worried. My biological parents were the definition of dysfunctional, and I haven’t exactly lived a sterling moral life.”
Julia shook her head. “You’re very good with Tammy’s little boy. Even your brother says so. But it’s too soon for a baby, Gabriel. We’ve only been married six months. And I want to finish my PhD.”
“I agreed to that, if you remember.” He traced the arch of her ribs with a single finger.
“Married life is wonderful, but it’s been an adjustment. For both of us.”
He paused his movements. “Agreed. But we need to talk about the future. It would be best if I began having conversations with my doctor sooner rather than later. It’s been so long since my vasectomy, a reversal might not be possible.”
“There’s more than one way to make a family. We can discuss other medical options. We could adopt a child from the Franciscan orphanage in Florence. When the time is right.” Her expression grew hopeful.
He smoothed a lock of hair away from her face. “We can do all those things. I intend to take you to Umbria after the conference, before we go to the exhibition in Florence. But when we get back from Europe, I’d like to speak to my doctor.”
“Okay.”
He pulled her on top of him. A strange charge seemed to jump between their skin as he gripped her hips.
“When you’re ready, we’ll start trying.”
She grinned.
“We should probably practice a lot in preparation.”
“Absolutely.”
Chapter Two
Julia startled awake early the next morning. Dawn had yet to break and the bedroom was quiet, the silence broken only by the sound of Gabriel’s rhythmic breathing and the distant chattering of birds outside.
She clutched the sheet to her naked chest and closed her eyes, forcing her breathing to slow. The act only brought the scenes from her nightmare into stark relief.
She’d been at Harvard, running across campus to find the location of her general exam for her PhD. She stopped person after person, begging for help, but no one seemed to know where the exam was being held.
She heard the sounds of crying and was shocked to find an infant in her arms. She clutched the child to her chest, trying to shush him, but he wouldn’t stop crying.
Suddenly, she was standing in front of Professor Matthews, the chair of her department. A large sign at his left indicated that the general exam was taking place in the classroom behind him. He blocked the doorway, telling her that children weren’t allowed.
She argued. She promised she’d keep the baby from crying. She begged him to give her a chance. All her hopes and dreams of completing her PhD and becoming a Dante specialist rested on the exam. Without it, she’d be dismissed from the program.
At that moment, the infant in her arms began to wail. Professor Matthews scowled, pointing to the stairwell nearby and ordering her to leave.
An arm reached across her body, hugging her. She looked down to see that Gabriel was still asleep. Something in his unconscious state must have prompted him to comfort her. She watched him with a mixture of love and anxiety, her body still trembling
from the nightmare.
She stumbled to the bathroom and switched on the lights and the shower. She hoped the hot water would calm her. Certainly, the brightness of the bathroom helped dispel some the darkness.
As she stood under the tropical rain shower, she tried to forget the nightmare and the other worries that fought to breach the surface of her consciousness—her lecture, their family’s impending visit, Gabriel’s sudden urge to have a baby . . .
Her fingers went to the silver necklace clasped around her throat. She knew that Gabriel wanted children with her. They’d discussed it prior to their engagement. But they’d agreed to wait until she graduated. Graduation was still a good five or six years away.
Why is he bringing up the subject of children now?
She was anxious enough over her studies. Come September, she’d be taking courses and looking ahead to her general exams, which would have to be completed the following year.
More pressing was her lecture, which was to be delivered at Oxford in a few weeks. Julia had completed a paper on Guido da Montefeltro in Professor Marinelli’s graduate seminar that past semester. The professor liked the paper so much, she’d mentioned it to Professor Picton, who encouraged Julia to submit an abstract to the conference.
Julia had been overjoyed when her paper proposal was accepted. But the thought of standing in front of a room of Dante specialists and lecturing them on topics they were far more expert in was daunting.
Now Gabriel was talking about having his vasectomy reversed when they returned from Europe in August.
What if the vasectomy reversal is successful?
Guilt washed over her. Of course she wanted to have his child. And she knew that undoing the vasectomy was more than just a physical procedure. It would be a symbolic gesture—that he’d finally forgiven himself for what happened with Paulina and Maia. That he’d finally begun to believe that he was worthy of fathering and parenting children.
They’d prayed for children. After their wedding, they’d approached the tomb of St. Francis and said spontaneous, private prayers, asking for God’s blessing on their marriage and the gift of children.
If God wants to answer our prayers, how can I say, “Wait”?
Julia worried she was being selfish. Maybe she should prioritize having a child over her education and aspirations. Harvard wasn’t going anywhere. Lots of people went back to university after starting a family.
What if Gabriel doesn’t want to wait?
He was correct to point out that life was short. The loss of Grace was testament to that. Once Gabriel knew he was able to father a child, he’d probably want to do so immediately. How could she say no?
Gabriel was a consuming fire. His passion, his desires, all seemed to overtake the desires of those around him. He’d told her once that she was the only woman who’d ever said no to him. He was probably correct.
Julia worried about her ability to say no to his deepest longing. She’d be overwhelmed with the desire to please him, to make him happy, and in so doing would sacrifice her own happiness.
She hadn’t had much growing up. She’d been poor and neglected when she lived with Sharon in St. Louis. But she’d distinguished herself in school. Her intelligence and discipline had served her well through Saint Joseph’s University and the University of Toronto.
Her first year at Harvard had been successful. Now was not the time to quit or drop out. Now was not the time to have a child.
Julia covered her face with her hands and prayed for strength.
A few hours later, Gabriel walked into the kitchen, carrying his running shoes and socks. He was clad in a Harvard T-shirt and shorts and was about to retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge when he saw Julia sitting at the kitchen island, her head in her hands.
“There you are.” He dropped his shoes and socks to the floor and greeted her with an insistent kiss. “I wondered where you’d gone.”
He remarked her tired eyes and the purple smudges below them. She looked distressed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just finished cleaning the kitchen and the fridge, and now I’m making a list for the grocery store.” She pointed to a large piece of paper that was covered in her flowing script. It sat next to a cup of coffee that was stone cold and half empty, along with another equally long list of to-do items.
Gabriel looked around at the kitchen, which was sparkling within an inch of its life. Even the floors were immaculate.
“It’s seven o’clock. Isn’t it a bit early for housekeeping?”
“I have a lot to do.” She didn’t sound enthusiastic.
Gabriel took her hand, stroking his thumb across her palm. “You look tired. Didn’t you sleep well?”
“I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep. I need to make up the bedrooms and clean the bathrooms. Then I need to go shopping and plan the meals. And . . .” She heaved a shuddering sigh.
“And?” he prompted, lowering his head so he could meet her eyes, which had moved to the long to-do list.
“I need to keep moving. I’m not even dressed.” She tugged the edges of her pale blue silk bathrobe together and moved to stand.
Gabriel stopped her.
“You don’t need to do anything. I said I’d find someone to clean the house, and I will.” He gestured to the grocery list. “I’ll go to the store after my run.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “That will help. Thank you.”
He cupped her cheek with his hand. “Go back to bed. You look exhausted.”
“There’s still too much to do,” she whispered.
“I’ll look after it. You need to work on your lecture.” He offered her a half-smile. “But get some sleep first. A tired mind doesn’t work very well.”
He kissed her once again and led her upstairs. He pulled the covers back on their bed and watched her settle before tucking her in.
“I know this is the first time we’ve had houseguests. I don’t expect you to be the maid. And I certainly don’t want our relatives to keep you from meeting your deadline. Work in the study for the rest of the day. Forget about everything else. I’ll handle it.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead and turned out the light, leaving Julia to her slumber.
Gabriel usually listened to music when he jogged, but on this morning his mind was distracted. Julianne was overwhelmed; it was obvious. She wasn’t an early riser and from the looks of her this morning, she’d been awake for hours.
They probably shouldn’t have invited their relatives to visit prior to her conference. But since they were going to Italy for most of the summer, this was the only time everyone could be together.
He’d forgotten how time consuming it was to have company. He’d never entertained more than one or two people at a time, and then only with the support of a housekeeper and a bank account that permitted him to take his guests out for meals.
Poor Julianne. Gabriel recalled his own years at Harvard: how vacations were never true holidays since there was always work to do, languages to learn, and exams to prepare for.
He was relieved to be tenured. He wouldn’t trade places with Julia for anything. Especially since he’d coped with the pressures of grad school by drinking, doing cocaine and P—
Gabriel stumbled, pitching forward as the toe of his shoe caught on the sidewalk. He righted himself quickly and regained his stride, forcing himself to concentrate on his steps.
He didn’t like to think about his years at Harvard. Since his move back to Cambridge, he’d experienced drug flashbacks so vivid, he would swear he could feel the cocaine entering his nostrils. He’d drive down a street or enter a building on the Harvard campus and feel a craving that was so sharp it was painful.
Thus far, with the grace of God, he’d resisted. Certainly, his weekly Narcotics Anonymous meetings had helped, as had his mon
thly appointments with his therapist.
And then, of course, there was Julianne.
If Gabriel found his higher power in Assisi last year, Julianne was his guardian angel. She loved him, inspired him, made his house a home. But he could not shake the fear that Heaven had smiled on him only to bide its time before snatching her away.
Gabriel had changed in myriad ways since Julianne was his student. But he had yet to abandon his belief that he was not worthy of sustained happiness. As his therapist had warned, Gabriel had a pattern of self-sabotage.
His adoptive mother, Grace, had died of cancer almost two years previous. Her untimely death symbolized the shortness and uncertainty of life. If he were to lose Julianne . . .
If you had a child with her, you’d never lose her.
A still, small voice spoke in his ear.
Gabriel quickened his pace. The voice was right, but it didn’t express his primary motivation for wanting a baby with Julianne. He wanted a family that included children—a life filled with laughter and the knowledge that he could right the wrongs done by his own parents.
He’d kept his internal struggles from his wife. She was burdened with her own concerns and he was loath to add to them. She’d worry about his addictions and his fears, and he’d already given her too much anguish.
While Gabriel jogged the familiar circuit of his old neighborhood, he began to wonder why she’d been so dispirited this morning. They’d spent an incredible night together, celebrating their love in the orchard and later, in bed. He racked his brain, trying to figure out if he’d done something to hurt her. But their lovemaking had been, as usual, both passionate and tender.
There was at least one other possibility, and Gabriel cursed himself for not having thought of it sooner. Julianne always carried with her a degree of anxiety about being back in Selinsgrove. A year and a half ago, her ex-boyfriend, Simon, had broken into her father’s home and assaulted her. Subsequently, his current girlfriend, Natalie, had confronted Julia at a local diner, threatening to release lewd pictures of her if she didn’t withdraw her assault complaint.
Julianne had convinced Natalie that it was not in her interest to release the pictures, since they’d implicate Simon, as well. His father was a U.S. senator who was running for president, and Natalie was working for his campaign.
Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy) Page 2
