Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy)

by Reynard, Sylvain

  Midprayer, Paul Norris approached him, his hands jammed into his pockets.

  They made patient, polite small talk at first. Then Gabriel noticed that Paul was regarding him with something akin to agitation.

  “Is there a problem?” Gabriel’s voice was deceptively soft. Soft like Scotch.

  “No.” Paul removed his hands from his pockets. He was about to reenter the college when he stopped.

  “Fuck it,” he muttered.

  He squared his shoulders, facing his former dissertation director.

  “Professor Picton would like you to be an external reader on my dissertation.”

  Gabriel regarded Paul coolly. “Yes, she mentioned that.”

  Paul waited for the Professor to continue, but he didn’t.

  “Uh, is that something you’d consider?”

  Gabriel rocked back on his heels. “I’ll consider it. Your dissertation topic is good and I was satisfied with the work that you did for me. I passed you to Katherine for personal reasons, otherwise, I’d still be directing your dissertation.”

  Paul looked away uncomfortably.

  “Julia did well.” He changed the subject.

  “Yes, she did.”

  “She even handled Christa.”

  Gabriel’s face wore a look of pride. “Julianne is a remarkable woman. She’s much stronger than she looks.”

  “I know.” Paul’s eyes hardened into what could have been a glare.

  “You seemed to have a lot to say to and about my wife.” Gabriel’s tone grew progressively cooler.

  “What are you doing to put a stop to the rumors? I was out at UCLA in March and people were talking about how Julia boinked you in order to graduate and get into Harvard.”

  A muscle jumped in Gabriel’s jaw.

  “Those rumors are the fruits of Miss Peterson’s poisonous tree. She will be dealt with, I assure you.”

  “Well, you need to step it up.”

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “What was that?”

  Paul shifted his weight, but he would not be deterred.

  “When I arrived yesterday, I overheard a couple of the old folks talking about Julia. They assumed she was a bimbo and that’s why she was on the program.”

  “I think it’s safe to say she proved them wrong. Julianne’s paper was well presented and well received. There’s also the little matter that rather than simply boinking her”—at this, Gabriel waved his hand distastefully—“I married her.”

  “She may be your wife, but you don’t deserve her.”

  Gabriel took a menacing step closer.

  “What did you say?”

  Paul drew himself to his full height, which was an inch taller than his former professor.

  “I said you don’t deserve her.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  Gabriel threw his china coffee cup in frustration. It smashed on the pavement.

  “Every night when I fall asleep with her in my arms, I thank God she’s mine. Every morning when I wake up, my first thought is that I’m grateful she married me. I will never be worthy of her. But I spend every day trying my damnedest. You were her friend when she needed one. But listen to me when I tell you, Paul, you do not want to push me.”

  A long silence passed between them. Gabriel held on to his temper as the result of a Herculean effort.

  Paul was the first to look away.

  “When I first met her, she was so jumpy. I felt like I had to whisper just so I wouldn’t scare her. She isn’t like that anymore.”

  “No, she isn’t.”

  Paul hunched his shoulders. “She was telling me about her program at Harvard over lunch. She loves it.”

  “I know that.” Gabriel’s expression grew even darker. “And I know you want her. I’m telling you, you can’t have her.”

  Paul met his gaze. “You’re wrong.”

  “Wrong?” The Professor challenged him, taking a step forward. They were now mere inches apart, the Professor’s posture angry and threatening.

  “I don’t just want her. I love her. She’s the one.”

  Gabriel stared at him incredulously. “She can’t be the one. She’s my wife!”

  “I know.”

  Paul looked over the Professor’s shoulder at Woodstock Road, shaking his head.

  “I met a pretty, sweet, Catholic girl. The kind of woman I could introduce to my parents. The kind of woman I’ve been looking for my whole life. I treated her right, we became friends, and when an asshole came along and broke her heart, I was there. She cried on my fucking shoulder. She fell asleep on my fucking couch.”

  Gabriel snapped his jaw shut furiously.

  “The semester ended and she followed her dream to Harvard. I helped her move. I found her a part-time job and an apartment. But when I finally told her how I felt, when I finally asked her to choose me, she couldn’t. Not because she didn’t care about me, or didn’t feel anything. But because she was in love with the asshole who broke her heart.”

  Paul laughed without amusement.

  “And this guy, he’s bad news. He fucks around. He treats her like dirt. He drinks too much. For all I know, he seduced her for kicks. He was involved with a professor who hits on her students and is into BDSM. So who knows what he does to my girl behind closed doors? When he leaves her, I’m ecstatic, thinking now she has a chance to be with someone who’ll be good to her. Someone who’ll be gentle with her and never, ever make her cry. Then, to my fucking astonishment, the asshole comes back. He fucking returns. And what does he do? He asks her to marry him. And she accepts!”

  He kicked at the pavement in frustration.

  “That’s my life, in a fucking nutshell. Find the perfect girl, lose the perfect girl to an asshole who broke her heart and will probably break it again and again. And then get a fucking invitation to their big-ass wedding in Italy.”

  Gabriel ground his teeth together. “In the first place, she is not your girl and she never was. I don’t have to justify myself to you or to anyone else. But out of respect for my wife, who seems to care about you, I’ll admit I was an asshole. I’m not that man anymore. I never fucked around on her, not even once, and I’m sure as hell not going to break her heart again.”

  “Good.” Paul shuffled his feet. “Then let her finish her program.”

  “Let her?” Gabriel’s voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Let her?”

  “She might decide to give up or take time off or something. Encourage her to continue.”

  Gabriel’s eyes flashed. “If you have information you want to share, Mr. Norris, I suggest you spit it out.”

  “Julia feels guilty about making her grad program such a high priority.”

  Gabriel scowled as the import of Paul’s words became clear.

  “She told you this?”

  “She also said that she doesn’t have any friends.”

  “How convenient for you. Are you interested in continuing to be her friend?”

  Paul grimaced. “This isn’t fucking convenient. Don’t you get it? I love her and because I love her, I have to listen to her worry about making you happy. You, the asshole who left her.”

  “I’m not exactly happy she chose to confide in you.”

  “If she had friends in Cambridge, she wouldn’t need to. And anyway, my friendship with her has to end.”

  Gabriel rocked on his heels, momentarily taken aback.

  “Did you come to this decision yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you told her?”

  “I wouldn’t do that to her before her lecture. That would be cruel.”

  “When are you planning to tell her?”

  Paul sighed deeply. “That’s the problem. I can’t say it to her face. When I get back to Vermont I’ll write to her.” He gave Gabriel
a resentful look. “I’m sure that will make you happy.”

  “I don’t take pleasure in her suffering, despite what you think.” Gabriel looked down at the platinum band on his left hand. “I love her.”

  Paul’s dark eyes shifted to the wedding ring.

  The Professor continued, “Your friendship is important to her. She’ll be hurt.”

  “It’s time to move on.”

  “Will you tell her that?”

  “I’m not going to lie. It’s going to kill me to tell her the truth, but I will.”

  “That’s very noble.” An admiring tone crept into Gabriel’s voice. “Perhaps I should persuade you to change your mind.”

  “You can’t.”

  A long look passed between Paul and his former professor.

  “I’ve misjudged you, Paul. And for that I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not doing this for you. I’m sure as hell not doing this so you’ll read my dissertation and write me a recommendation letter. I’ll tell Katherine that I spoke to you and you declined.”

  Paul nodded at Gabriel and began to walk toward the college.

  “Mr. Norris,” Gabriel called.

  He stopped and slowly moved to face the Professor.

  “I always intended to be an external reader, whether you continued your friendship with Julianne or not. Your research stands on its own merits.” He extended his hand.

  Paul considered this for a moment, then strode toward him. They shook hands.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  A look passed between the two men that was reminiscent of the look that warriors gave after a battle in which both sides took heavy losses.

  Paul was the first to speak.

  “I’m not going to interfere in your marriage. But if I learn that you’ve broken her heart again, we’re going to have a problem.”

  “If I break Julianne’s heart, I’ll deserve it.”

  “Good.” Paul grinned. “Can we stop touching each other now?”

  Gabriel dropped his hand as if it were on fire. “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Later that afternoon, Julia and Gabriel checked into the Randolph Hotel. They were supposed to meet Katherine and Paul for dinner. But Paul said that he needed to speak to Professor Picton alone and, apologizing, asked the Emersons if they’d mind canceling their dinner plans. So the Emersons were left to dine alone.

  After a quiet meal in the Randolph’s elegant dining room, they went upstairs to their suite.

  “Are you glad the conference is over?” Gabriel held the door open for his wife.

  “Very glad.” Immediately, Julia took off her suit jacket, draping it over a chair. She sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off her high heels.

  She retrieved a square of chocolate from atop one of the pillows and unwrapped it, popping the sweet into her mouth. “They didn’t give us chocolates at Magdalen College.”

  She gazed fondly in the direction of the en-suite. “’I’m kind of in love with the heated towel rack in the bathroom. We need one of those in Cambridge.”

  Gabriel laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “But I wouldn’t trade our nights at Magdalen for anything. If we come back to Oxford, I hope we can stay there again.”

  “Of course.” He kissed the top of her head. “Magdalen is a special place, but the accommodations are a bit Spartan for my tastes. I think if we split our time between here and there, we’d be doing well.”

  “I had hoped I’d see a Narnian ghost during our visit.”

  “You won’t find one outside Magdalen. Although I’m told that the actor who played Inspector Morse haunts the bar downstairs. We could go and take a look.”

  “I think I’ve had enough of people for one day. I need a hot bath, a hot towel, and an early night.”

  “Do you feel differently now?” He extended his hand to cup her cheek.

  “About?”

  “About grad school.” He shrugged. “About anything.”

  “I worked hard on the paper, but I was also lucky. The audience didn’t bring their pitchforks.”

  “They weren’t pushovers. I know that crowd. They don’t suffer fools.”

  “I noticed that based on the way they turned on Christa during the question period. I’ve never seen that happen before.” Julia shuddered.

  “I’ve seen it. And worse.”

  “I wonder where she went.”

  Gabriel snorted. “Apparently, Pacciani escorted her from the building. I suppose Katherine really did put the fear of God in him. He was furious.”

  Julia looked up at her husband curiously. “Don’t you think it’s strange that Paul didn’t want to have dinner with us? He seemed to be looking forward to it earlier.”

  Gabriel traced a light finger down her nose. “Maybe Katherine isn’t happy with his dissertation and he wanted to smooth things over without an audience.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Do you feel differently about grad school now? Or are you still enthusiastic about your program?”

  She put her hand over his, pressing his palm against her cheek. “It was an intimidating experience. But I’m glad I did it. I’d like to do it again.”

  “Good, because I think you’re gifted, Julianne, and I want to do everything in my power to help you succeed.”

  She closed her eyes tightly. “Thank you, Gabriel. That means a lot.”

  “You can always talk to me. If something is troubling you, I’ll listen. I promise.” He slid his hand to the back of her neck.

  “I just want us to be happy.”

  “I want that too. So if you’re ever unhappy, tell me.”

  She pressed her lips to his wrist.

  “I wonder what Beatrice’s husband thought of Dante’s attentions. You have to admit, that part of the story is sad. Beatrice is married, but she has this poet following her around and writing sonnets about her.”

  Gabriel’s grip on her tightened. “I married you. I love you. We have what Dante and Beatrice never had.” He kissed her again. “I need to go out. But I’ll be back.”

  “Will you be gone long?”

  “I don’t know. But in the meantime, I have a gift.” He pulled a box out of his pocket and placed it in her hand.

  Julia read the label. Cartier.

  She looked up at him wide-eyed.

  He opened the box and she saw a beautiful white gold watch shining against folds of creamy silk.

  “This is in recognition of a job well done. You’re going to have lots of opportunities to present your research, and you need a reliable watch.”

  He removed it from the box and turned it over, showing her the inscription on the back.

  To My Beloved,

  With admiration and pride

  Gabriel

  “A Timex is a reliable watch. This is something else entirely.” Julia almost laughed.

  “Something entirely deserved, I assure you.”

  She touched the engraving in awe.

  “How did you know?”

  “How did I know what?” He clasped the watch around her wrist. It fit perfectly.

  “How did you know I’d do a good job?”

  “Because I have faith in you.” He kissed her slowly. Then, with a determined look, he exited their suite.

  Christa Peterson sat on the large bed in her hotel room, waiting. She’d managed to find a sexy black basque that laced up the back, and she wore it with gartered stockings and very high heels.

  Champagne cooled in a silver container in the corner, provocative music floated through the air, and a series of sensual accessories (including handcuffs) lay on the table next to the bed.

  She checked the very expensive watch she’d worn
since she’d lost her virginity, resisting the urge to think back to the words Giuseppe had said to her the night before. His ascription had been too close to the mark.

  Instead, she focused on what was about to happen. She was finally going to have her heart’s desire—Professor Gabriel O. Emerson in her arms, her bed, her body.

  At last.

  Men never said no to her. And despite Gabriel’s attachment to his plain and mousy little wife, he was a man. They’d fuck a few times and go their separate ways. She’d have the satisfaction of knowing her success rate at seduction was one hundred percent.

  A knock echoed through the room.

  Trying to hide her enthusiasm, Christa straightened the seams of her stockings and walked toward the door.

  Chapter Eighteen

  You were wonderful,” Gabriel whispered, lazily running the backs of his fingers up and down her spine.

  She hugged the pillow, hiding her face. She was lying on her stomach, her back gloriously exposed.

  He eyed her bashfulness with concern before leaning over to kiss the slope of her shoulder.

  “Darling?”

  “Thank you.” Julia shifted a little, her eyes meeting his.

  “How did you feel about that position?” Gabriel pressed his palm flat just above her backside, resting over two dimples.

  “I enjoyed it.”

  “But?”

  “No qualifications.”

  “Then why are you shy?”

  She shrugged.

  Gabriel rolled her to her side. “You’re safe. I promise, you’re safe in my arms and in my bed. Always.”

  He placed a finger to her chin, lifting it.

  “Talk to me.”

  She avoided his eyes. “I don’t want to bring old issues up, but sometimes I worry.”

  “About what?”

  “I worry I’m not adventurous enough for you.”

  Gabriel would have laughed had she not looked so serious. He forced himself to look grave.