Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard
He was torn. It was telegraphed in the way his eyes bore into hers and the eagerness that radiated from his skin.
On impulse, Julia wrapped an arm around his back and placed her other in his hair. She tugged his mouth toward hers and kissed him deeply.
He responded quickly, wrapping her legs around his hips. Soon he was controlling their kiss; his tongue in her mouth, insistent and urgent.
“Take me to bed,” she begged, when he finally drew breath.
“We aren’t going to use the bed.”
With a dangerous look, he carried her into the bedroom.
Gabriel didn’t bother with lamps or music before he pressed her against the nearest wall. A distant light from the open door to the bathroom lightened the dark bedroom to gray.
Her legs tightened around his hips as he pulled off her robe. The silk sank to the floor.
He placed two fingers in his mouth, wetting them, before reaching down to pet between her legs. She moaned and pressed against his hand. His touching grew more desperate.
“Are you afraid?” He brought his lips to her ear.
“No.” She wound her fingers in his hair, pulling his mouth to hers.
He explored her with his tongue, licking at her lips and thrusting inside. His hand slid around to cup her backside, pulling her against him.
“Watch,” he rasped, fluttering his mouth along her neck.
“Watch what?”
“Us. In the mirror.”
Julia opened her eyes and saw the mirror mounted on the wall on the other side of the room. Somehow, it was perfectly positioned to reflect her husband’s magnificent and naked back and the dark-haired woman who was hidden by his body.
“I want you to see what I see when you come.”
Gabriel trailed kisses up and down her neck before rubbing his stubble against her chest. He cupped her breast in his hand, worshipping each one with his mouth. Licking and nipping and sucking.
He dropped a hand between her legs again and, using deliberate strokes, petted her as his mouth closed over a rosy peak.
Julia tried very hard to keep her eyes open, but it was difficult. His tongue teased her flesh, his lips tugging and pulling.
She’d never seen what they looked like together. His body long and lean, hers smaller and softer. Their skin had different tones—he was darker while she was fair.
Gabriel lavished her with single-minded attention. As if he were a dying man and this was his last assignation. Her very flesh nearly melted from the heat of his touch.
His focus caused the world to fall away, as it always did in those moments, his probing fingers and impatient erection brushing between her legs.
“I need you,” she murmured, pulling back so she could see him. She was clutching his shoulders, almost climbing him.
“I need you to come first. Eyes on the mirror.”
He continued to pet her, resisting the urge to speed despite her desperate movements.
Without warning, her rosy lips parted and she gasped, her gaze fixed on their reflection.
Then with a single, deep thrust he was inside her.
She saw her eyes widen, her fingers tighten their grip on his shoulders. She saw his strong hips and lean, beautiful backside moving apace, pushing into her again and again.
She groaned, eyes closing.
“I told you to watch,” he growled, nipping her ear.
Her eyes opened and she saw him glaring at her.
She turned to look at the mirror. He kept up his rhythm, moving and thrusting.
Sighs and moans escaped her lips as his pace increased. And still, she did not look away.
“This isn’t fucking,” he whispered. “Look at me.”
Her eyes fled the mirror and met his. The sapphire blue of his irises was barely visible against the wide, black pupils.
“This isn’t fucking. It’s a hell of a lot more.”
His breathing stuttered as he thrust, his pace suddenly uneven.
“Always.” She began panting, her exhalations matching his rhythm.
He opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, she orgasmed. His words were drowned in a sea of sensation. Her eyes closed as the satisfaction flowed through her.
Gabriel thrust deep once more and released, his teeth nipping at her collarbone.
Julia struggled to catch her breath, resting her cheek against his neck.
“Incredible,” he rumbled, after he’d caught his breath.
He lifted his head. “Are you all right?”
She closed her eyes, resting her head against the wall. “Yes, but I’m probably bowlegged. Give me a minute before you put me down.”
“What makes you think I’m finished with you?”
He pushed her hair behind her shoulder, his mouth finding her ear.
“One,” he whispered.
Julia awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Of itself, this was not surprising. But when she discovered that the bathroom and balcony were also empty, she pulled on her robe and went in search of her husband.
He was nowhere to be found.
The keys to the Mercedes were on the kitchen counter, where he’d left them the night before, next to an empty bottle of Coca-Cola. He hadn’t left a note.
A wave of hurt washed over her. The night before had been passionate, perhaps more so than any other night previous. They’d made love against the wall, on the bathroom counter, on the floor, and finally on the bed. The sun was almost peeking over the horizon when he’d finally relented and let them sleep.
Julia had wanted to wake up with him and perhaps, to take her time exploring his body before languorously making love. But such was not her good fortune. Gabriel’s absence and the absence of a note made her feel twinges of anxiety. He hadn’t even left a glass of water or juice at her bedside, as was his custom.
I wonder if this is how his other women felt after spending the night with him. If he even let them spend the night . . .
Her anxiety morphed into unhappiness as she reluctantly climbed the stairs and returned to her room. She changed into her bikini, grabbing her sunglasses and hat before walking to the pool. A swim would keep her occupied.
She swam laps until she’d almost forgotten her conversation with her father the day before, and Gabriel’s evident distress the previous evening. Then she set her feet down in the shallow end, her eyes straying to a pair of running shoes that were situated at the edge of the pool.
“I thought I told you I didn’t want you swimming alone.”
Gabriel stood, holding out a towel. He was dressed in his jogging clothes and he was sweaty, his T-shirt soaked.
“Good morning to you, too.” She swam to the edge and plucked the towel from his grasp.
“Good morning.”
“I wouldn’t have to swim alone if you didn’t leave me,” she muttered, climbing out of the pool.
“You know I like to run in the mornings.”
“It’s almost noon.” She wrapped herself in the towel and faced him, hands on her hips.
He seemed agitated. He glanced at her but wouldn’t make eye contact, and his posture was decidedly uncomfortable.
Julia wondered how a night of fantastic sex could leave her relaxed and weightless and leave him strung as tightly as a bow.
“You could have left a note.”
“I could have,” he said slowly. “I didn’t think of it.”
“If you want to run, that’s fine. Just let me know when you’ll be back.”
Gabriel opened his mouth to protest but suddenly decided against it.
“I’m going to have a shower. I made the hotel reservation for your father yesterday and arranged to have the concierge deliver a fruit basket. I’ll be in my study for most of the day, working. But I’ll take you to dinner in Todi tonight.”
“No.”
He blinked at her. “No?”
“No, Gabriel. You can’t run off to your study after treating me so coldly. No.”
His expression shifted.
“I don’t mean to be cold, Julianne.” His voice was low.
She stared at him.
He scrubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“That’s what you said last night. I hoped our activities would have helped.”
A shadow passed over his features.
He stood in front of her, reaching out to grasp the necklace she was wearing. He ran his thumb over the suspended heart.
“You are always lovely. I could hold you in my arms and make love to you all day, but that wouldn’t solve my problems.”
Julia placed her hand over his. “Then tell me you love me.”
His eyes met hers. “I love you.”
She breathed out a heavy sigh. “Go find your solution. But don’t forget that you aren’t the only person in the house. I don’t want to live with a ghost.”
Gabriel’s eyes grew pained. He kissed her chastely, then exited the enclosed pool area.
True to his word, Gabriel spent the afternoon in his study, behind a closed door.
Julia had no idea what he was doing, although she hoped he was solving whatever problem it was that troubled him so deeply.
Several different scenarios flew through her head. Perhaps Paulina had contacted him, hurling him into a tailspin. Perhaps the revelation of her brother’s illness had caused him to rethink his own desire for a child. Perhaps he was realizing that married life was not what he’d hoped it would be—that the thought of being tied to one woman, to her, was stifling.
Julia’s anxiety increased. She could handle anything, she thought, but Gabriel’s coldness. She’d seen contempt in his eyes before. She’d been dismissed from his presence. She’d survived it once, but the mere thought of him leaving her again was crippling.
In an effort to turn her attention elsewhere, she sat at her computer, investigating the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia and hypoplastic left heart syndrome.
The hospital’s website gave her some hope. It described several patients who’d received the surgery her little brother would have to have. But each patient testimonial included the caveat that no one, not even the specialists at the hospital, could predict how healthy the patients would be when they became children, teenagers, or adults.
She said a silent prayer for her father and Diane, and, lastly, for her brother. She asked God to help him and to give him health.
Then her thoughts turned to her husband.
She prayed for him. She prayed for their marriage. She’d thought their sexual activities the night before had brought them closer together and that they would free him to communicate with her.
Now she worried they’d had the opposite effect. If Gabriel could communicate to her with his body, perhaps he failed to see the need to communicate with words.
With such thoughts in mind, she returned to her pediatric cardiology research, reading article after article, until the words blurred before her eyes and her head sank down against the chair’s armrest.
Julia awoke to the sensation that someone was watching her.
She was lying in bed. Seated next to her, his arms around his bent legs, was Gabriel. He regarded her from behind his glasses.
“It’s late,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
She squinted at the clock that sat on the bedside table. It was past midnight.
“I missed dinner.”
“You were exhausted. I kept you up too late last night.”
She yawned. “Come here.”
He avoided her outstretched hand.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Don’t I get a kiss?”
He brushed his lips against hers in a manner that could only be described as perfunctory.
“That’s not a very good kiss,” she pouted. “You’re perched on the edge of the bed like a gargoyle, glowering at me. What’s the matter?”
“I am not glowering.”
She sat up and placed her arms around his shoulders.
“Then kiss me like you mean it, non-glowering-gargoyle-like husband of mine.”
His dark brows knitted together. “A gargoyle? You’re hell on a man’s ego, Mrs. Emerson.”
“You’re far more beautiful than me, Professor. But I’m fine with that.”
“Don’t blaspheme.” His expression darkened.
She sank back against the mattress, groaning in frustration.
“I love you, Gabriel. That means I’ll put up with a hell of a lot from you. But I won’t let you shut me out. Either talk to me or I’m going home.”
She felt his eyes before she met them—two glowing and angry sapphires in the nether darkness.
“What?” he growled.
“If I go and stay with my dad, he’ll talk to me. I can take care of him and Diane when they get home from the hospital. You’re acting as if you can’t stand the sight of me.” She rolled to her back, staring up at the canopy.
“Beatrice.” His voice was pained. “If you need to see your dad, we’ll go together. But I would never let you make that trip alone. I’ll be damned if you go home without me.”
She hazarded a small smile.
“Now there’s the Gabriel I married. I thought I’d lost you.” She removed his glasses, placing them on the side table. Then she pulled him under the covers with her.
He rolled onto his side, facing her. Then, ever so lightly, he found her lips in the darkness.
“Finally.” She rested her head against his chest. “Tell me why you’re so grim.”
“I don’t think you want to hear this right now.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Fine. You said you thought I wished you were someone else so I could fuck you.” His tone grew sharp. “Never say something like that to me again.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It isn’t true. I swear to God, it isn’t true. I left that life behind and God help me, I do not want to go back there.”
“I wasn’t asking you to go back there. I was hoping you’d work out your bad mood with me, instead of sitting outside brooding.”
“I wasn’t fantasizing about fucking other women, I assure you.” He sounded angry. “And what we have is too important to cheapen.”
She sat up swiftly.
“There was nothing cheap in what we did last night. We love each other. We’d both received upsetting news. We needed comfort.”
“I was selfish.”
“It was mutual. Remember? I wanted you. I needed you. If you were selfish, then so was I. But I don’t see it that way. Yes, it was more aggressive and vigorous than we usually are. But you promised me I was safe with you. And I felt safe. You promised me we could be adventurous. Last night was one of our adventures. And in giving, we both received.”
She tried to keep a straight face. But couldn’t.
She smiled widely, trying to restrain a snicker.
In a flash, she was on her back and he was over her, their noses inches apart.
“I don’t think St. Francis would approve of you taking part of his prayer and applying it to our sexual activities,” he growled.
“Francis believed in love and in marriage. He’d understand. At the very least, if he disapproved, he’d be silent about it.”
Gabriel closed his eyes and shook his head. But a smile played across his mouth.
When he opened his eyes, they were tender.
“I could live with you forever and still you would surprise me.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Gabriel, because you’re stuck with me. Even when you’re in a foul mood. I’m not ashamed of what we do with our bodies, beca
He nodded and kissed her reverently.
She kissed him back.
“You tell me that I’m safe in your bed. But I want you to know that you’re free in mine. All the baggage, all the things from our past, they don’t matter here.”
He stroked her jaw with his thumb. “Okay.”
“Now will you tell me why you were so upset last night?”
“Not yet.” A shadow fell across his face. “I just need a little time.” He toyed with the diamonds in her ears. “You have my heart. Never doubt that.”
Julia rested in his arms, but it was a long while before sleep claimed her.
Chapter Thirty-three
Julia was not a psychologist. She’d spent time in therapy and was familiar with twelve-step programs and recovery. But she tried very hard not to diagnose others. In the case of her husband, she couldn’t help herself. Something was troubling him. Something disturbing enough to cause him to return to his old coping mechanisms.
She suspected that whatever was upsetting him was related to the news they’d received from Tom and Diane, but she wasn’t certain. Correlation is not causality, and so it was possible that the two events were merely coincidental.
Without knowing what was wrong, she didn’t know how to help him. Or how to comfort him. She felt as if a dark cloud hung over them, despite Gabriel’s concerted attempts to behave as if nothing were wrong.
She knew better. And his unwillingness to share his burden wounded her.
As their time in Umbria drew to a close and they prepared to travel to Florence, she resolved to do her best to be supportive and loving. But she was determined that if he hadn’t confided in her by the time they returned to Cambridge, she would take matters into her own hands.
During the previous summer, Gabriel had volunteered at the Franciscan orphanage in Florence during his separation from Julia. But as the staff quickly discerned, he was not the ideal volunteer. He didn’t take direction, he gave it. He didn’t hesitate to make changes to the workings of the orphanage, or to make demands about the facilities and food. And when the staff protested that they didn’t have the money to implement his changes, he simply paid for them himself.