It wasn’t always that way, though, was it Gabriel?
“What shall we dance to?” He persuaded her to reenter the lounge, placing a hand on her lower back. “I’ll request whatever you want. How about Nine Inch Nails? Maybe a little Closer?”
He grinned in order to indicate that he was kidding. But Julia wasn’t looking at his face, she was watching the floor so she didn’t trip and embarrass herself and The Professor. Nevertheless, as soon as the name of that song left his lips, she froze.
He nearly ran into the back of her she stopped so suddenly. Through the tips of his fingers he felt the marked coolness of her body and immediately and fiercely regretted ever suggesting that song. He moved to regard her face, and what he saw troubled him deeply.
“Julianne, look at me.”
Her breathing paused.
“Please,” he added.
Obediently, she raised her wide brown eyes to his and looked up at him through her long eyelashes. He saw fear and radical unease on her face, and something inside of him twisted.
“It was a joke. And in poor taste. Forgive me. I would never request that song for a dance with you. It would be the worst form of blasphemy, to expose someone like you to words like that.”
Julia’s eyelashes fluttered in her confusion.
“I know I’ve been a bit of a—stronzo tonight. But I’ll choose something nice. I promise.”
Unwilling to release her for fear she might bolt, Gabriel brought her to the DJ’s booth and slipped him a bill, whispering his request. The DJ nodded and smiled, saluting Julia before he searched for the requested song.
Gabriel walked her to the dance floor and pulled her in close—but not too close. He noticed that her hands, which were so much smaller than his, had begun to sweat. It didn’t occur to him that perhaps she was having this reaction because of the song he mentioned. No, his only thought was that she was completely averse to him, and he’d made matters worse by being insulting and overbearing with her when all he really wanted to do was save her from the wolves that had descended to sniff at her skirts.
Why the hell do I care? She isn’t a child. She isn’t even a friend.
He felt her shiver, and again he regretted being harsh with her. She was a delicate little thing and clearly quite sensitive. He shouldn’t have mentioned the fact that he’d observed that she was a virgin. That was a boorish thing to do. Grace would have been appalled at his lack of gentility, and rightly so.
Perhaps he could make it up to the beautiful Julianne by dancing with her nicely and showing that he could act like a gentleman, after all. Gabriel placed his hand at the small of her back and flexed it. Immediately, he felt her breathing quicken.
“Relax,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the skin of her cheek accidentally.
He brought their bodies close together, making sure that she could feel his chest against hers. Strong and hard met gentle and soft, as they brushed against one another through their clothing. Gabriel was now on his best behavior.
Julia didn’t recognize the song he’d requested. The vocalist was singing in Spanish, and the words were unfamiliar, although she recognized the phrase besame mucho and knew that it translated as kiss me a lot. The arrangement itself was slow Latin jazz, and they swayed to it gently, Gabriel moving her across the dance floor like an expert. The fact that he’d chosen such an overtly romantic song made her blush.
I kissed you a lot, Gabriel, for one glorious evening. But you don’t remember. I wonder if you’d remember me if I kissed you…
She felt his pinky graze the top of her barely there panties through her dress, and she wondered if he knew what lay beneath his finger. The thought that perhaps he did made her skin explode in heat. She hid her eyes by keeping them determinedly fixed on the buttons of his shirt.
“It would be better if you looked me in the eye. It will be easier for you to follow my lead.”
She found him smiling down at her, a wide and genuine smile that she hadn’t seen in years. Her heart fluttered, and she beamed back at him, dropping her guard (but not her special panties) for only an instant.
Gabriel’s smile slipped. “Your face is familiar. Are you sure Rachel never introduced us during one of my visits home?”
Julia’s eyes brightened with what looked like hope. “She didn’t introduce us, no, but we…”
“I could have sworn I’d met you before.” He wrinkled his forehead in confusion.
“Gabriel?” she prompted, trying to reveal the truth with her eyes.
He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “No, I guess we haven’t. But you remind me of Beatrice, from Holiday’s painting. Isn’t it funny that you own it?”
If Gabriel had known what to look for, or if he’d been better at reading her, he would have seen that she appeared slightly ill and any hope on her face disappeared.
She bit her lip absently. “A—friend told me about that painting. That’s why I bought it.”
“Your friend has good taste.”
Something about her answer displeased him, but he dismissed his displeasure as derivative of the fact that she was so tense in his arms. He sighed and brought their foreheads together, his warm breath on her face. He smelled of Laphroaig and something distinctively Gabrielian and potentially dangerous.
“Julianne, I promise I won’t bite. You don’t have to be anxious.”
She stiffened, even though she knew he was trying to put her at ease. But he’d upset her countless times, and she was fatigued by it. She was not some marionette on a string that he could toy with for his own mercurial amusement, just because some blond-haired banker sent her a truffle. It seemed that this dance was simply an opportunity for him to declare his superiority.
“I don’t think this is very professional,” she began, her eyes suddenly afire.
His smile slid off his face, and his eyes flashed to hers. “No, it isn’t, Miss Mitchell. I’m not being professional with you, at all. I suppose it’s no excuse for me to claim that I wanted to dance with the prettiest girl in the club?”
Her lovely red mouth opened slightly, then he watched her press her lips together.
“I don’t believe you.”
“What, that you’re easily the most beautiful woman here? With all due respect to my sister? Or that I, cold-hearted bastard that I am, would want to dance with you to something sweet?”
“Don’t make fun of me,” she snapped.
“I’m not, Julianne.”
He flexed his arm across her lower spine, and she gasped because it did something to her on the inside. He knew it, of course, and had expected a reaction. What he did not know was that he’d touched her there before, that he’d been the first man to ever touch her there. And her skin had never quite recovered from his absence.
He watched her subsequent irritation with no little amusement. “When you aren’t frowning at me, and your eyes are large and soft, you look very pretty. You’re attractive at all times, but in those moments, you look like an angel. It’s almost as if you are…you look like…”
A sudden flash of recognition passed over his face, and Julia stopped dancing.
She squeezed his hand and looked up into his eyes, willing him to remember. “What, Gabriel? Do I look like someone?”
The expression on his face vanished as quickly as it appeared, and he shook his head, smiling at her indulgently. “Just a passing fancy. Don’t worry, Miss Mitchell, the dance is almost over. Then you’ll be free of me.”
“I only wish I could be,” she mumbled.
“What’s that?” He brought his forehead close to hers again.
Without thinking about how intimate the action would be, he released her hand and slowly pushed a lock of her hair aside, the backs of his fingers trailing across the skin at her neck much longer than necessary.
“You’re lovely,” he whispered.
“I feel like Cinderella. Rachel bought my dress and my shoes.” Julia changed the subject quickly.
He withdr
ew his hand. “Do you really feel like Cinderella?”
She nodded.
“It takes so little to make you happy,” he said, more to himself than to her. “Your dress is lovely. Rachel must have known your favorite color.”
“How did you know that purple is my favorite color?”
“Your apartment is covered in it.”
She grimaced in memory of his one and only visit to her hobbit hole.
He wanted to make her look at him—only at him. “Your shoes are exquisite.” His eyes traveled from where the top of her head lined up with his chin and down to her feet.
She shrugged. “I’m worried I’ll fall.”
“I won’t let you.”
“Rachel is very generous.”
“She is. As was Grace.”
Julia nodded.
“But not me.” His remark came out almost as a question, and his eyes sought hers.
“I never said that. In fact, I think that you can be very generous, when you want to.”
“When I want to?”
“Yes. I was hungry, and you fed me.” Twice, thought Julia.
“You were hungry?” Gabriel’s voice was rough, horrified, and he stopped dancing immediately. “You’re going hungry?” His eyes hardened into two icy blue jewels, and his voice cooled to the temperature of water gliding over a glacier.
“Not starving, Professor, just a little hungry—for steak. And apples.” She glanced up at him shyly, hoping to soothe his sudden show of temper.
Gabriel was far too upset to notice the remark about apples. His very stomach was lodged in his throat as he contemplated the reality of graduate student poverty—a reality he was all too familiar with—and the poor and hungry Miss Mitchell. No wonder she was so pale and so thin.
“Tell me the truth. Do you have enough money to live on or not? I will go to the chair of my department on Monday and have him increase your fellowship if you tell me you need it. I’ll give you my American Express card tonight, for God’s sake. I won’t have you hungry. I won’t.”
Julia was momentarily silent, for his reaction astonished her.
“I’m fine, Professor. I have enough money if I’m careful. My apartment makes cooking a problem, but I promise you, I’m not starving.”
Gabriel slowly began dancing again, leading her gently across the floor.
He looked down at her lovely shoes. “Will you be selling those to buy groceries? Or to pay your rent?”
“Of course not! They came from Grace, sort of. I would never, ever, part with them. No matter what.”
“Will you promise that if ever you are desperate for money, you’ll come to me? For Grace’s sake?”
Julia averted her eyes, choosing to remain silent.
He sighed and lowered his voice. “I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I’m asking for it only in this one respect. Will you promise?”
She took a deep breath and held it. “Is it very important to you?”
“In the extreme. Yes.”
She exhaled noisily. “Then yes, I promise.”
“Thank you.” He exhaled in relief.
“Rachel and Grace were always good to me, especially after my mother died.”
“When did your mother die?”
“My senior year of high school. I was already living with my dad in Selinsgrove by then. She was in St. Louis.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” She moved her mouth as if she was going to say something further, but stopped.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “You can say it.” He gazed into her eyes encouragingly, and for a moment Julia forgot what she’d wanted to say. But she recovered herself.
“Um, I was just going to say that if you ever need someone to talk to—about Grace, I mean. I know Rachel is going back to Philadelphia. But I’ll be here, um, obviously. Not that it would be very professional, but I’ll be around. Um. Yeah, that’s it.”
She avoided his eyes, and he felt her whole body tense as if she was steeling herself for something awful to happen.
What have I done to this poor girl? She’s terrified I’ll lash out at her or something.
Gabriel knew that he deserved her wariness, and so he resolved to lavish her with kindness…at least until the song ended and they inhabited their professional roles once again. Then he would be distant, but gentle.
“Julianne, look at me. You know, I don’t have any prohibitions against people looking me in the eye.”
She glanced up at him hesitantly.
“That’s a very kind offer. Thank you. I don’t like to talk about certain things, but I’ll keep you in mind.” He smiled at her again, and this time the smile remained. “You have both charity and kindness, two of the most important of the heavenly virtues. In fact, I’m sure you have all seven.”
Especially chastity, they each thought to themselves, independently. And he thinks chastity is something to ridicule, thought Julia.
“I haven’t really danced like this before,” she said wistfully.
“Then I’m glad I’m your first.” He squeezed her hand warmly.
Julia froze.
“Julianne? What’s wrong?”
Her eyes glazed over, and her skin grew very cold. Gabriel watched as the virulent blush that had spread across her cheeks not two minutes earlier faded completely, and her skin became a translucent white, like rice paper. She wouldn’t look at him, and when he flexed his hand against her lower back, it was as if she couldn’t even feel it.
When Julia came out of her trance or shock or whatever it was, he tried to get her to talk to him, but she was too shaken to do so. He had no idea what had happened, so he waved to Rachel and asked her to take Julia to the ladies’ room. Then he went to the bar and ordered a double, downing it quickly before they returned.
Gabriel made an executive decision and decided it was time for them to go home. Miss Mitchell was clearly unwell, and The Vestibule was no place for her, even under normal circumstances. He knew that at a certain point in the evening the men would become drunk and grabby and the women would become drunk and horny. He didn’t want his baby sister and the beautiful and virginal Miss Mitchell exposed to either type of behavior. So he settled his tab and asked Ethan to provide them with two taxis, with the full intention of paying the taxi driver for Miss Mitchell’s cab and instructing him to wait outside her residence to see that she entered safely.
Alas for poor Gabriel, Rachel had a plan of her own.
“Good night, Julia! I’ll meet you back at your place, Gabriel. Thanks for seeing her home personally!” Rachel hurled herself into one of the cabs, slamming the door behind her, and handed the cabbie a twenty so that he would peel out before Gabriel could take a single step.
He was now pissed in a very different sense, since it was obvious what his sister was trying to do. Nevertheless, she was less likely to run into some ne’er-do-well in the lobby of the Manulife Building with security on duty than Miss Mitchell was on Madison Avenue. So he couldn’t fault her judgment.
Gabriel helped Julia into the cab and climbed in after her. When they stopped in front of her building, he waved her money aside and instructed the cabbie to wait for him. He escorted Julia to the front door of her building and stood in the soft porch light while she tried to find her keys.
She dropped them, of course, because she was still shaky after what happened at the club. Gabriel picked them up, trying keys in the lock until he successfully opened the door. He returned her key ring and brushed a finger across the back of her hand. Then he stood staring down at her with a funny look on his face.
Julia inhaled sharply and began to talk to his black pointed-toe shoes (which were a tad too fashionable even for Gabriel), because she could not say what needed to be said and look into his beautiful but cold eyes.
“Professor Emerson, I want to thank you for opening doors for me and for asking me to dance. I’m sure it was demeaning to have to behave that way to a student. I know that you’re on
ly tolerating me because Rachel is here, and that when she’s gone everything will go back to normal. And I promise I won’t say anything—to anyone. I’m really good at keeping secrets.
“I’m going to request another thesis director. I know you don’t think I’m very bright, and you only changed your mind because you felt sorry for me because of my apartment. It’s clear from what you said tonight that you think I’m beneath you, and that it pains you to have to talk to a stupid little virgin. Good-bye.”
With a heavy heart, Julia turned to walk into the building.
Gabriel moved to block her path.
“Are you quite finished?” His voice grew very harsh.
She met his gaze, wide-eyed and trembling.
“You’ve delivered your speech; I believe courtesy demands that I be given an opportunity to respond to your remarks. So if you please…” He moved out of the doorway and stood, staring down at her with an expression of nearly concealed fury.
“I open doors for you because that is how a lady is supposed to be treated, and you are, after all, a lady, Miss Mitchell. I haven’t always behaved like a gentleman, but Grace tried her best.
“As for Rachel, she’s a sweet girl, but sentimental. She’d have me reciting sonnets under your window like a teenage boy. So let’s leave my sister out of this, shall we?
“As for you, if Grace adopted you like she adopted me, that tells me she saw something very special in you. She had a way of healing people through her love. Unfortunately, in your case, as in mine, she probably arrived a little too late.”
Julia raised her eyebrows at this last statement, wondering silently what it meant, but she did not have the courage to ask him.
“I asked you to dance because I wanted your company. Your mind is good, and your personality is charming. If you want another director, that’s your prerogative. But frankly, I’m disappointed. I never thought of you as a quitter.
“If you think I do things for you out of pity, then you don’t know me very well. I am a selfish and self-absorbed bastard who barely notices the concerns of other human beings. Damn your little speech, damn your low self-esteem, and damn the program.” He huffed in frustration, trying hard not to raise his voice. “Your virginity is not something to be ashamed of, and it’s certainly none of my business. I just wanted to make you smile and…”