“What’s it about?”
“A young couple. The man ends up studying at Oxford, and I believe he becomes a protégé of C.S. Lewis. It’s a true story.”
“I’d love to go to Oxford, to see where the Inklings drank their beer and spun their tales. Katherine Picton talks about Oxford a lot.”
Gabriel kissed her forehead. “I’d love to take you. I can show you the statues at Magdalen College that inspired Lewis to write about the stone animals in The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. We could go in June, if you like.”
Julia smiled and kissed him back. “If you lend me Grace’s book, I’ll take it to Italy. It might be nice to have something to read during our vacation.”
He smirked at her and tapped a single finger to the end of her nose. “What makes you think I’ll let you have time enough to read?”
She blushed and fumbled a vague response, but Gabriel continued, a grave expression on his face.
“I’m sorry we had to stop last night. It isn’t right for me to tease you like that and just…” He searched her eyes for her reaction.
She wrapped her arms around him and embraced him tenderly. “It was an incredibly emotional evening. I was happy to be close to you and to fall asleep in your arms. I just wanted to comfort you any way I could. You don’t need to apologize.”
He cupped her face in both hands. “Julianne, your mere presence comforts me. But I was exhausted, and I’d been drinking…a recipe for disaster.” He shook his head and looked ashamed. “I didn’t want our first time together to have so much baggage, with all the ghosts of my past swirling in the air. I want us to go to a place that is ours alone and make some new memories. Some happy ones.”
“Of course. Although I must say that I was pretty happy with our interactions last night.” She laughed lightly and kissed him.
He returned her kiss eagerly. “So you aren’t upset?”
“Gabriel, you are a gentleman worth waiting for. What kind of person would I be if I threw a tantrum because you said stop? If I were to say stop, I would hope that you would accept it and not get angry.”
He frowned. “Of course, Julianne. You can always say stop.”
“Well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
“So I’m a gander now, am I?” He kissed her once again.
“It’s better than being a geezer.”
“Oh, no.” He squeezed her tightly. “No age jokes. I’m sensitive enough about our age difference.”
She tossed her hair. “Our souls have to be about the same age. So who’s counting?”
He tugged at her ponytail. “You’re incredible. You’re intelligent and funny, and damn, you’re gorgeous. Last night, kissing your breasts…” He placed a hand reverently over her heart. “You rival Botticelli’s muse.”
“Botticelli?”
“Haven’t you noticed how several of his paintings all feature the same woman? She is the topic of my lecture for the Uffizi Gallery—Botticelli’s muse.”
Julia smiled at him sweetly, placing a corresponding hand on his heart. “I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I.”
After a lonely shower, Julia had a deuce of a time convincing Gabriel to let her out of his sight so that she could go shopping. He insisted on accompanying her. But when she finally explained that she wanted to shop for lingerie, alone, he relented.
“Promise me you’ll stay with me until we leave for Italy.” He looked at her through his eyebrows.
“I have to pack. My suitcase and all my things are at my apartment.”
“When you’ve finished shopping, take a cab home and pack before you have the driver bring you back here. I have to run a few errands, but you have your own key and security card to let yourself in.”
“And what kind of errands does Professor Emerson have to do today?”
He smiled at her seductively, and Julia felt her boy shorts slip along her hips as if they were intending to take a header to the floor.
“Perhaps I have my own shopping to do for—ah—personal items.” He leaned forward to press his lips against her ear, his voice a smooth whisper. “I told you I was a good lover, Julianne. Trust me. I will anticipate your every need.”
She shivered at the way his breath breezed across her neck, almost fluttering the omnipresent scarf she wore to hide her scar. She had no idea what he was implying, but she found herself tantalized by the way his words tripped off his tongue.
He owned her, body and soul.
***
While Julia was pulling lingerie from the store racks to add to her ever expanding pile of items to try on, her iPhone chirped. She quickly checked it and found a text:
What are you looking at? —G
She giggled slightly and typed a short response:
Very tiny things. —Julia
Gabriel replied immediately:
How tiny? —G
P.S. Send pictures
Julia rolled her eyes as she hit reply:
Too tiny. No pictures—
they’d ruin the surprise.
Love, Julia
It took a little longer for Gabriel’s next text to arrive:
Darling,
No picture could ruin
the experience of seeing you
in all your glory
for the first time…
You’re that beautiful. Love, G
Julia’s fingers couldn’t type fast enough:
Thank you, Gabriel.
I love you
Gabriel’s final text message reached her just as she entered the dressing room:
I love you too, sweetheart.
Have fun…Hurry home to me. —G
The next two days were a whirlwind as Gabriel finished his administrative duties for the university, ensuring that all his grades were submitted. The semester was finally over.
Julia made a special trip to a spa for some pre-Italy pampering. In keeping with her low pain tolerance and overall Mediterranean sensibility, she politely declined the aesthetician’s invitation to embrace all things Brazilian.
Gabriel had kept most of their travel plans a secret, wishing to surprise her. So it was with amazement that their arrival in Florence on a warmer than usual December day resulted in the happy couple walking into the Gallery Hotel Art. The hotel was upscale, modern, and located very close to the Ponte Vecchio, Julia’s favorite bridge, and a few minutes from the Ponte Santa Trinita, which was featured in Holiday’s painting of Dante and Beatrice.
The concierge, Paolo, greeted them immediately. Although Gabriel had not stayed in his hotel before, Paolo had been instructed by Dottore Massimo Vitali, the Executive Director of the Uffizi Gallery, to extend every courtesy to Professor Emerson and his fidanzata. In fact, Paolo himself accompanied the bellhop and the lovers to their seventh-floor suite, which was called the Palazzo Vecchio Penthouse.
Julia gasped as the men parted like the Red Sea before her so that she could enter first. It was, perhaps, the loveliest room she’d ever seen. The floor was a dark hardwood offset with light-colored walls. The sitting room was graced with elegantly modern furniture and a sliding glass wall that partitioned it from the bedroom.
The bedroom itself was spacious and featured a large bed that was piled high with crisp, white linens. Mere steps away was a glass door that opened out onto the rooftop terrazza, which allowed bright sunlight to spill over the bed, illuminating it. One of the bathrooms boasted a huge pedestal bathtub, not unlike the tub Julia had enjoyed in their hotel in Philadelphia, while the other bathroom had a shower and two matching vanities. Gabriel took one look at the bathtub and decided that he needed to share it with Julianne that very evening.
But the crowning glory of the space was the terrazza itself, which offered breathtaking views of the Duomo, the Palazzo, and the surrounding hills. Julia envisioned curling up with Gabriel on the comfortable futon bed, which dominated the terrace, with a glass of Chianti, looking up at the stars. Or perhaps (she blushed), making
love with him by candlelight underneath those same stars.
Orgasms with Gabriel by starlight…
Once they were alone, Julia hugged him tightly and thanked him over and over again for choosing such a beautiful room.
“It’s all for you, my love.” He kissed her softly. “All for you.”
Truthfully, he would have liked nothing better than to spread Julianne out on the bed and make love to her immediately, but she hadn’t slept well on the airplane, and he knew that she was tired. She yawned twice in a row and giggled when he tried to kiss her.
“I should clean up and pay a visit to the Uffizi. Would it be all right if I left you on your own? You can take a nap, if you like, or I could ask the concierge to book a massage for you in the spa.”
Julia’s eyes lit up at the latter offering, but she knew she was too sleepy to enjoy it. “A nap sounds good. I know it isn’t the best strategy for overcoming jet lag, but I will be much better company over dinner and, um, later on, if I have a little more sleep.” She blushed.
Gabriel traced a single finger around her jaw line. “I’ll only say this once, Julianne. There is no rush. We can take our time tonight and just relax. Although I think it would be nice if we were to try out the bathtub. Together.” His lips curled up into a sexy half-smile.
“I’d like that,” she said.
He kissed her nose, chuckling. “I requested special amenities from the Farmacia di Santa Maria Novella. See if any of the scents are to your liking, and we’ll use them. In the meantime, I’ll book our dinner reservations for nine or nine thirty.”
“Sure. Where will we go?”
He smiled widely. “The Palazzo dell’Arte dei Giudici. Do you know it?”
“I’ve walked by it, but no, I didn’t know they had a restaurant.”
“I’m looking forward to showing it to you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “I ordered a fruit basket and a few bottles of sparkling water. Charge what you like to the room.” He grinned. “Although save the champagne to share with me later. In the tub.”
Julia looked down at her feet. “You’re spoiling me.”
He lifted her chin. “No, my love, not spoiling. Just treating you as you deserve to have been treated all along. You’ve been surrounded by fools your whole life. Of whom I was chief.”
“Gabriel, you are many things, but a fool you are not.” She leaned up on tiptoes to brush his lips with her own before leaving to take a shower.
A few hours later, Gabriel returned from a cordial meeting with his friend Massimo Vitali. Over espresso, the gentlemen discussed Gabriel’s lecture the following evening and the plans for an elaborate banquet to be held inside the Uffizi in his honor. Gabriel was very grateful for the gesture, but more on behalf of Julianne than himself, for he thought only of how pleased she would be to participate in such a festive event. And in her favorite art gallery.
Entering the penthouse, Gabriel walked through the sitting room to the bedroom and found Julia asleep in the geographic center of the bed, on top of the covers. She was wearing champagne-colored satin pajamas, her long hair flowing around her head like a warm mahogany halo. She looked like a dark-haired Sleeping Beauty.
He watched her sleep for a moment and pressed a kiss to her cheek. When she didn’t stir, he decided to pour himself a drink and sit out on the terrace until it was time to wake her. Truthfully, he was glad to have a moment to himself to plan and dream about the next few days. He felt as if the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Not only did she know the truth about Paulina and Maia, but she still loved him. And they’d escaped the wrath of the judicial committee and survived the academic semester together. He had much for which to be grateful. And most of all, he had his Julianne all to himself for two entire weeks.
Julia is not the kind of girl you screw around with. She’s the kind of girl you marry. Scott’s words resounded in his ears.
Scott was right. Julianne was special: an intelligent, compassionate beauty who loved deeply and gave freely. She deserved much more than just an affair, although Gabriel refused to consider their relationship an affair, no matter what people might say. He stealthily patted the small velvet box he’d hidden in his jacket pocket. The thought of being in a long-term relationship had always been so remote. Julianne had changed all that.
Tonight his plan was to show her how much he loved her. To adore her and to relax her. A bubble bath, a massage…anything he could do to make her comfortable with having him see her body. Julianne was still shy with him, and he wanted her to feel sexy and desirable. Simon had wrought deep fissures in her confidence. She thought she was frigid. She thought she was clumsy and sexually inadequate. She feared she would disappoint Gabriel when they eventually made love.
Gabriel knew that it would take a long time to dispel those lies and to heal those wounds. He was resolved to build her confidence incrementally, to help her see herself as he saw her—sexy, attractive, and passionate.
The only way he could do this would be to take his time and be patient and affirming. He was looking forward to demonstrating his love for her and subjecting all of his erotic arts to her service. She would never demand such things, such attention, which made the thought of giving everything to her so much more satisfying.
If their relationship was more advanced and Julianne was less shy, he would suggest that they make love on the terrace. The thought of how Julianne’s rose and cream skin would glow in the starlight made his heart soar and his trousers twitch. But having sex outside would likely be too nerve-wracking for her, and he’d be damned if he’d push her to do anything that would make her even remotely uncomfortable.
We’ll just have to come back…
Chapter 33
At eight o’clock that evening, Miss Julianne Mitchell put the finishing touches on her hair as her sweetheart gazed at her longingly from the doorway of the bathroom. He adored her. It was evident in every look, every touch, and the way he stared, unblinking, at her simplest actions.
She’d curled her hair and pinned it up, coaxing a few tendrils about her face, tendrils Gabriel longed to wrap around his fingers. Her aesthetician in Toronto had given her a small tube of industrial strength concealer, makeup that was designed to cover even the worst scars. It was so effective, Julia no longer had to wear a scarf to hide Simon’s bite. Just being able to forget about the scar made Julia joyous, especially since Grace’s lovely scarf would not have matched her new dress.
Her dress was a silky emerald green—long-sleeved and V-necked, as she preferred, its hem brushing the top of her knees. She wore sheer black stockings with a surprise attached to them and was about to step into her black Prada stilettos. As Gabriel watched her lean forward to put on her shoes, he vowed to purchase more of them. They did incredible things for her legs and to her cleavage as she leaned over.
“Allow me,” he said, crouching in front of her in his freshly pressed navy suit. He took her hand and placed it on his shoulder, to aid her balance, while he lifted each foot and slipped on her shoes.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He smiled up at her and kissed her hand. “Anything for you, Cinderella.”
Julia pulled her black three-quarter length trench coat from the closet and was about to wriggle into it when Gabriel took it out of her hand.
“Let me,” he protested. “I want to fuss over you.”
“It’s just a coat, Gabriel. No worries.”
“Yes, I know it’s a coat. But it’s an opportunity for me to behave like a gentleman and honor you. Please don’t deprive me, Julianne.”
She flushed in embarrassment and nodded slowly. She wasn’t used to such attention, of course, except from Gabriel. She wanted to be gracious and let him attend her, but it was far more than she ever expected or thought that she deserved. She reached up to kiss him and whispered her thanks against his lips. He took her arm and led her downstairs and toward the restaurant.
Julia and Gabriel walked slowly through t
he cobblestoned streets from the Palazzo Vecchio, over to the Palazzo dell’Arte dei Giudici e Notai, laughing and reminiscing about previous visits to Florence. They had to walk slowly, for navigating Florence in stilettos was more than a little challenging. Thankfully, Gabriel had taken Julia’s arm to escort her properly, thus enabling her to walk upright and also to avoid much of the wolf whistles and catcalls of Florentine youths. The city had not changed that much since the days of Dante.
The restaurant Gabriel had chosen was called Alle Murate. It was located in a fourteenth-century guild hall a short walk from the Duomo, and it boasted incredible period frescoes, including a portrait of Dante himself. Julia was overwhelmed by the beauty of the artwork and found herself wandering slightly as the maître d’ escorted them to their table.
Gabriel had reserved a quiet space on the loft floor overlooking the main room, just under the vaulted ceiling. It was the best table in the house, for it afforded the finest and closest views of the medieval illustrations. Four angels frozen in frescoes floated above them as Julia took Gabriel’s hand and squeezed it. She was ecstatic.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you. I had no idea these frescoes were here.”
He smiled at her enthusiasm. “Tomorrow night will be even better. Massimo tells me that my lecture is scheduled after the museum closes and there will be a reception with local dignitaries and academics. Later on, there will be a banquet inside the Gallery. It will be a semi-formal affair, and we will be the guests of honor.”
Julia smiled narrowly. “I didn’t bring anything fancy enough for a semi-formal.”
“I’m sure anything you brought would look beautiful. But I can understand not wanting to wear the same dress twice. So I will just have to take you shopping.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I left you to it? The banquet is a celebration of your lecture, so you’ll be very busy. Maybe you’d be more comfortable if you could—mingle freely.”
He reached over to push a curl away from her face. “Julianne, your presence is not only encouraged, it’s required. I dislike going to social events alone. I always have. Having you at my side is the only pleasure the evening will afford, I assure you. Don’t you want to join me?” His face took on a worried expression.
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