Gabriel's Rapture

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Authors: Sylvain Reynard
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they admired the tiled roof of the Duomo.
    Julia fidgeted with her fingernails. “She and Aaron said hello. They wanted to know if we were happy.”
    Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all?”
    “Um, no.”
    “So?”
    She shrugged. “They said that Scott had a girlfriend. That was about it.”
    “Good for Scott.” He chuckled. “Was there anything else?”
    “Why do you ask?”
    He cocked his head to one side. “Because I can tell when you’re hiding something.”
    He began to run his fingers up and down the soft flesh at her waist, a particularly ticklish spot.
    “You aren’t going to do that in public.”
    “Oh, yes I am.” He grinned and began moving his fingers with purpose, trying to tickle her.
    She started giggling and trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but he held her close.
    “Come on, Julianne. Tell me what Rachel said.”
    “Stop tickling,” she gasped, “and I’ll tell you.”
    Gabriel stilled his hands.
    She took a deep breath. “She wanted to know if we’d, um, slept together.”
    “Oh, really?” His lips turned up into a half-smile. “And what did you say?”
    “I told the truth.”
    He searched her eyes. “Anything else?”
    “She said she hoped you were behaving yourself and that I was happy. And I said yes—on both counts.” She waited for a moment, thinking about whether or not she should mention the email from a certain Vermont farm boy.
    “But there’s something else. Go ahead.” He was still smiling indulgently.
    “Well, Paul emailed me.”
    Gabriel scowled. “What? When?”
    “The day of your lecture.”
    “Why didn’t you mention this before?” he fumed.
    “Because of this.” She gestured to the irritation visible on his face. “I knew it would upset you, and I didn’t want to do that when you had to speak in front of a room full of important people.”
    “What did he say?”
    “He said that you passed Christa’s dissertation proposal.”
    “What else did he say?”
    “He wished me a Merry Christmas and said that he was sending something to me in Selinsgrove.”
    Gabriel’s nostrils flared. “Why would he do that?”
    “Because he’s my friend. It’s probably maple syrup, which I will gladly give to my dad. Paul knows that I have a boyfriend and that I am very, very happy. I’ll forward the email to you, if you like.”
    “That won’t be necessary.” Gabriel’s lips thinned visibly.
    Julia crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You were eager to have me spend time with Paul when Professor Pain was around.”
    “That was different. And I don’t particularly wish to discuss her ever again.”
    “Easy for you to say. You don’t keep running into people I’ve slept with.”
    Gabriel glared.
    Julia clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing to say.”
    “As you may recall, I have run into at least one person with whom you’ve been sexually involved.”
    He turned and walked away, approaching the edge of the lookout. She gave him a moment or two to himself, then she stood beside him and cautiously wrapped her little finger around his. “I’m sorry.”
    He didn’t respond.
    “Thank you for rescuing me from Simon.”
    Gabriel scowled. “You know that I have a past. Do you intend to keep bringing it up?”
    She lowered her gaze to her shoes. “No.”
    “That remark was beneath you.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    He kept his eyes trained on the city that was spread out before them. Red tiled roofs shone in the sun, while Brunelleschi’s dome dominated the view.
    Julia decided to change the subject. “Christa was behaving strangely at your last seminar. She seemed resentful. Do you think she knows about us?”
    “She’s sour because I haven’t welcomed her outrageous advances. But she met the deadline for her revised proposal and her work was acceptable.”
    “So she wasn’t—blackmailing you?”
    “Not every woman is your rival for me,” he snapped, pushing away her hand.
    Her eyes widened in surprise.

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