Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy) (10 page)

Gabriel folded his napkin and placed it on the table. “The incident this morning with Christa Peterson was anomalous. She tried to destroy our careers.”

“Just so. But even in that case, I’m afraid you did more harm than good.”

Gabriel frowned, and Katherine decided to change tactics.

“We’ve been good friends, you and I. I’d like to think that if I’d had a son, he would be your equal in intelligence and talent.”

His expression softened. “Thank you, Katherine. Your friendship is important to me.”

“I’ve given Julianne some advice. No doubt she’ll tell you all about our conversation. But before she returns, I’d ask that you consider what I’ve just said. She’s a nice young woman and very bright. Let her brightness shine.”

“That’s all I want.” He looked down at his hands. His eyes were drawn to the way the light caught on his wedding band, and he found himself staring at it.

“Good.” Katherine tapped her finger on the table, as if to signal that the matter had been decided. “Now, I hope I’ll be invited to dinner at your house when I give my lecture series at Harvard in January. Greg Matthews always takes me to these appalling molecular gastronomy restaurants that serve you deconstructed entrées cooked in liquid nitrogen. I can never decide whether I’m having dinner or sitting for an exam in organic chemistry.”

After dinner, Gabriel insisted that they escort Katherine to her residence at All Souls, where they bade one another good night and agreed to meet for breakfast the following morning.

“Eight thirty, sharp.” Katherine tapped her wristwatch. “Don’t be late.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it.” Gabriel bowed.

“See that you don’t.” With a wave, she disappeared behind the great wooden door of the college, which closed behind her.

Left standing together, Gabriel took Julia’s hand, noticing that her fingers had grown cold. He tried to warm them, touching her wedding band and engagement ring.

“I know that you’re tired,” he said. “But I want to show you something. It will just take a minute.”

He led her around the corner to Radcliffe Camera, a great, circular building that had become an icon of the university. The sky was dark, moonless, but a few lights illuminated the impressive structure.

He squeezed her hand as they approached. “I used to spend a lot of time walking around this building. I’ve always admired it.”

“It’s fantastic.”

Julia eagerly perused the architecture and its interplay of stone and dome and pillar. The sky was the color of ink, and the dome almost seemed to glow against its backdrop.

Gabriel brought his hands to cup her cheeks. “I want to speak to you about what happened this morning.”

He felt her tense beneath his touch. His eyes sought hers and he moved his thumbs gently across her cheekbones. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

“I know it was difficult for you to walk away from her at first. But you did. And I’m grateful for that.” Her dark eyes glinted. “You still like to fight.”

Gabriel took her hands in his and pulled them into his chest.

“I like to fight with people other than you. Christa is a bully. The only way to deal with bullies is to confront them.”

Julia lifted her chin. “Sometimes, you should let the nastiness speak for itself. Or at least, let her target decide for herself what’s to be done.”

“I can do that. At least, I can try.”

“That’s all I ask.” Julia brushed her lips against his. “I’m sorry she brought up Professor Pain. I had no idea they knew each other.”

Gabriel closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were pained.

“I confessed my past. I left it behind. Must I be reminded of it forever?”

“I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around his back, bringing their chests together.

They were quiet for a moment and Gabriel pushed his face into her neck, clutching her tightly.

“Caravaggio,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“I remember what you said about his painting of St. Thomas and Jesus—how our scars might heal but they never disappear. You can’t eliminate your past but you don’t have to be controlled by it.”

“I know that. But I doubt anyone would want their sexual encounters broadcasted to their work colleagues.”

“Anyone who would judge you based on old gossip isn’t a friend of yours, anyway.” She pulled back so she could look into his eyes. “Those of us who know you will ignore the gossip.”

“Thank you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead before meeting her gaze. “People and circumstances will conspire to alienate us from one another, Julianne. We can’t let them do that.”

“We won’t.”

“I didn’t mean to ignore you. You mean more to me than anything,” he whispered.

“It’s the same for me.”

She breached the distance between their mouths in order to kiss him, her lips soft and ever moving.

Some distance away, Professor Giuseppe Pacciani groaned his release and collapsed on top of his lover’s body. Sex with her was always magnificent, and this coupling was no exception.

He mumbled a few phrases in Italian, as was his custom. But instead of welcoming his words, she pushed him aside and rolled away. Sadly, this was not unusual.

“Cara?”

Christa Peterson pulled the sheet over her naked body. “I need the room tomorrow night. You’ll have to stay somewhere else.”

With a curse, Giuseppe eased his bare feet to the floor. He walked to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. “This is my room.”

“No,” she called to him. “It’s my room. You always pay for my accommodations. And I’ll be entertaining tomorrow night.”

He returned to the bed and soon she was under him again, his forearms on either side of her shoulders.

“You’d take someone to your bed so soon? The sheets will still be warm.”

Her dark eyes flashed.

“Don’t judge me. You’re married. Who I fuck is none of your business.”

He bent down and kissed her, his lips insistent until she opened her mouth.

“Such a dirty mouth, Cristina.”

“You love it when I’m dirty.”

He sighed, and his expression morphed into a wry smile.

“Si.”

He moved to his back, taking her with him.

“I want to get up.” She pulled against his arms.

“No.”

She struggled but he would not let her go. Finally, she relented, resting her head against him.

He toyed with her hair. This was part of their arrangement. Afterward, she had to let him hold her.

Perhaps he did so simply to satisfy himself that there was something affectionate about their fucking. Perhaps he did so because he was not an entirely ruthless adulterer. But whatever the reason, she always resisted for a moment or two, even though she secretly liked being held.

“I was surprised to hear from you, Cristina. We were supposed to meet a year ago. You never answered.”

“I was busy.”

He lifted the ends of her raven hair to his nose, inhaling its fragrance.

“I wondered why you insisted I bring you. You’re here for revenge.”

“We’re both getting what we wanted.”

His fingers stilled.

“Be careful, Cristina. You don’t want Professor Picton as an enemy.”

“I don’t care.”

Pacciani cursed.

“Don’t you understand the patronage system? Departments around the world are filled with her admirers. Your chair at Columbia was her student.”

“I didn’t know that.” Christa shrugged. “It’s too late. I’ve already pissed her off.”

Pacciani grabbed Christa’s chin roughly, forcing her to look at him.

“I’m responsible for you now. So you will stop. I’m trying to get a position in America and I don’t need Professor Picton making trouble.”

Christa was quiet for a moment as she examined his menacing expression.

“Fine,” she pouted. “But I need the room tomorrow night.”

“Va bene.”

He released her chin and resumed stroking her long, dark hair. “What was his name?”

“Who?”

“The man who made you like this.”

Her muscles tensed under his fingers. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know,
tesoro
. Was it your papa? Did he—”

“No.” She trained her eyes on his furiously. “He’s a good man.”

“Certo, cara. Certo.

“All the time I’ve known you, you’ve had lovers but no suitors. You should be married. You should be having babies. Instead, you fuck old men for expensive gifts.”

“I don’t fuck you for your gifts. I fuck you because I like to fuck.”

He laughed.

“
Grazie.
But still, there must always be gifts.” He brought his lips to her forehead. “Why?”

“I like nice things. That isn’t a crime. And I’m worth it.”

“You know what I think,
tesoro
?”

“Stop calling me that.” She pulled away.

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, holding her in place.

“You don’t think you’re worth it, which is why you demand gifts. Sad, no?”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“You have it, all the same.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

His grip on her tightened. “You fuck priests and old, married men because you’re afraid. You’re afraid of what might happen if you were to sleep with someone who was unattached.”

She struggled in his arms.

“Since when did you become a psychiatrist? Don’t project your bullshit on me. At least I’m not fucking around on my wife.”

“
Attenzione
, Cristina.” His tone was a warning. “So who is the man you fuck tomorrow night? A priest? A professor?”

She regarded him for a moment, then traced her finger across his lower lip. “Who said it was a man?”

Giuseppe gave her a ravenous look.

“Then I expect you to share.”

Chapter Eleven

W
ake up, darling.” Gabriel ran his thumb over Julia’s eyebrows. “You need to get ready.”

She buried her face in the pillow and mumbled something unintelligible.

He chuckled, thinking about how adorable she looked.

“Come on, you need to grab the shower before one of our neighbors occupies it.”

“You go first.”

“I’m already showered, shaved, and dressed, darling.” He ran the back of his hand down her naked spine, taking pleasure in the tremor that resulted.

“You kept me up too late,” she groaned.

“If you don’t get moving, Katherine will be cross with us.”

“I’m not taking a shower. I can sleep longer.”

Gabriel rolled her over and ran his nose along her collarbone, inhaling her scent.

“You smell like sex,” he whispered, flicking out his tongue to taste her skin. “And me.”

“That’s why I’m not taking a shower. We had incredible makeup sex, which I’d like to remember.”

It was all he could do not to pull the sheets off her and engage in wild, passionate (and scent-transferring) sex. But he quickly restrained his impulses.

“You can’t deliver a lecture at Oxford smelling of sex.”

“Watch me.”

Gabriel looked at his wristwatch. Then he looked at his wife.

Then he took off all his clothes and commenced in wild, passionate, scent-transferring (albeit quick) preconference sex.

The Emersons were late departing for All Souls College. On the hurried walk over, Julia told Gabriel the story of Katherine and Old Hut.

He was surprised. He knew Professor Hutton by reputation but had never met him. Apparently, he was a bit of a bastard.

(One might wonder how much of a bastard Hutton had been, given the former nature of the professor making the judgment.)

Gabriel was grateful for Professor Picton’s support and told her so over breakfast inside All Souls, expressing his hope that Christa would forgo the opportunity to make trouble for Julia at her lecture.

“Applesauce,” said Katherine. “Julianne has the situation in hand and we’d all do well to let her see to it.”

Julia smiled bravely, fidgeting with the silver necklace Gabriel had given her back in Selinsgrove.

As they entered St. Anne’s after breakfast, Gabriel wrapped an arm around Julia’s waist, hugging her.

“You look lovely. And you’re going to be fine.”

She glanced down at her navy suit and plain navy pumps. Gabriel had wanted her to wear Prada or Chanel, but she was wary of flaunting their money. She’d rather people focused on her research than her clothes. So she’d purchased a simple jacket and skirt from Ann Taylor, with modestly high-heeled shoes from Nine West. Even so, given the way some of the other conferencegoers dressed (with the exception of Christa Peterson), she felt a bit overdone.

Underneath her clothes, she knew she wore Gabriel’s scent along with the corset he’d bought for her, which bolstered her confidence considerably.

“I’m going to get a coffee. What would you like?” He smiled and released her.

“A bottle of water, please. I’d like to sit down, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. See you in there.”

Julia returned his smile and entered the lecture theater alone.

Gabriel exchanged a few pleasantries with some colleagues before he approached the refreshment table. By the time he’d poured his drink and taken a bottle of water, everyone had exited.

Or so he thought.

“Hello, Professor.”

A sultry voice behind him arrested his attention. Gabriel turned to find Christa hovering nearby like a malevolent ghost.

“What do you want?” His expression grew murderous.

“You wanted to talk yesterday. So—talk.”

Gabriel glanced around the empty room, wondering if their voices would carry into the lecture theater.

Christa stepped closer to him than was appropriate and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. When she opened them, her eyes were hungry.

“You smell like sex.”

“Don’t play games with me. I want the slander to stop.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“I’ll sue you.”

Something flitted across her face, but she quickly pulled her features into a relaxed smile.

“For what? Telling the truth?”

“There’s no truth to your character assassinations. You weren’t harassed back in Toronto. And Julia does her own research, as is obvious to anyone with half a brain.”

The sound of laughter echoed from the lecture theater. Gabriel turned in its direction.

Christa lifted her voice to regain his attention.

“You’re forgetting the part where you fucked one of your students and were placed on administrative leave. That’s a story worth telling. Not to mention the fact that Professor Singer had quite a bit to say about you. It’s a pity she didn’t take photographs. I would have liked one.”

She reached up to brush imaginary lint off the lapels of his navy blue suit.

He caught her hand at the wrist and squeezed. Hard.

“You’re playing with fire.”

She leaned even closer, bringing her mouth within inches of his. “Oh, I hope so, Professor.”

With disgust he released her, stepping back and wiping his hands as if they’d been contaminated. With another glance toward the theater, he decided to end their confrontation.

“You keep your mouth shut. Or I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“There’s no reason to be unfriendly. The power to end this is in your hands.” She gestured to his crotch, her lips turning up into an appreciative smile. “Actually, it’s a bit lower.”

He muttered an expletive and began to walk away, but she followed him.

“Come to my hotel and tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about my talented mouth anymore.” She placed her hand on his arm, dropping her voice to a seductive whisper. “
I know you.
I know what you like and I know what you want. We’ll fuck all night then go our separate ways.”

He pushed her hand away roughly.

“No.”

“Then what happens next is on your conscience.”

Gabriel took a step in her direction. “You stay away from my wife, do you hear me?”

“I’m at the Malmaison. It used to be a prison, which should appeal to you.” She reached up to bring her lips to his ear. “I brought handcuffs.”

Gabriel was too busy pushing her away to realize that she’d dropped something into his suit pocket.

With a smirk, she waved.

“Tonight is your only chance. Come before midnight.”

She turned on her very high heels, swaying seductively as she walked. Then, almost as an afterthought, she paused and looked at him over her shoulder.

“Give my best to your
wife
.”