Gabriel's Inferno: Gabriel's Rapture Part 22

"In the meantime, I'd like you to make a list of everything-and I mean everything-that is relevant to the hara.s.sment complaint. Any kind of evidence she might present, such as emails, texts, messages, and photographs. Send everything to me, and I'll start looking at it. And send me everything on your girlfriend too.

"I don't like having to say, 'I told you so,' Gabriel. But I did. The university has a zero-tolerance policy with respect to fraternization, which means they can expel your girlfriend and fire you. Let's hope the two complaints are not connected and that someone reported her for failing to return her library books."

"It's always a pleasure to speak with you," said Gabriel icily.

"If you didn't think with your d.i.c.k, you wouldn't be speaking with me. I just hope your girlfriend was worth it, because if the s.h.i.+t hits the fan, she's going to turn out to be an extremely costly lay."

Before John could say good-bye, Gabriel hurled the handset against the wall, watching it smash into several large pieces and falling to the hardwood floor below. Then he took several deep breaths so he could convince Julia they should simply enjoy their vacation.

That same afternoon, Dean David Aras sat in his office on St. George Street and looked at his telephone with surprise. Usually, his administrative a.s.sistant was much better at screening his calls. But Professor Katherine Picton was nothing if not persistent, and she usually received whatever she wanted. In this case, that was a conversation with the Dean of Graduate Studies at the University of Toronto.

He lifted the handset and pressed the b.u.t.ton. "h.e.l.lo, Professor Picton. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"There's no pleasure at all, David. I demand to know why I received a letter from your office requiring me to be interviewed at one of your Stalinist proceedings."

David pressed his lips together in order to avoid biting back. She was famous, she was old, and she was a woman. He wasn't about to curse her out.

(Except in Lithuanian. Perhaps.) "I need to ask you a few questions. It will take ten minutes, tops, and you'll be on your way," he replied smoothly.

"Nonsense. It takes me ten minutes to walk down the front steps of my house in the winter. It will take forever to walk over to your office. I demand to know what I am being summoned to and why, or I'm not coming. We can't all spend our afternoons having a.s.sistants screen our calls and make us coffee so we can dream up ways of making other people's lives miserable."

The Dean cleared his throat.

"A complaint has been made against the graduate student you're supervising."

"Miss Mitch.e.l.l? What sort of complaint?"

In a very understated way, he explained the nature of the complaint that he'd received.

"That's outrageous! Have you even met her?"

"No."

"This is a ridiculous complaint made against an innocent and hardworking female student. And need I remind you, David, that this is not the first time that a successful female graduate student has been slagged in a university proceeding."

"I am quite aware of that. But there are related matters that I am not at liberty to discuss with you. I wish to interview you about your dealings with Miss Mitch.e.l.l. That's all."

"I am not going to lend any credence whatsoever to a witch hunt that is targeting my graduate student."

David frowned at her through the phone. "Without your testimony, it's quite possible a grave injustice might occur. You might be exactly what we need to clear Miss Mitch.e.l.l's name."

"Codswallop! It's your responsibility to see that justice is served. I'm surprised that you have taken the complaint seriously. Quite surprised. And wipe that frown off your face, David. I can hear you sulking and I don't appreciate it."

The Dean suppressed a Lithuanian curse. "Professor Picton, are you refusing to answer my questions?"

"Are you hard of hearing? Or has your quest for administrative power made you intellectually lazy? I've said that I refuse to cooperate. I don't work for the university anymore. I am retired. Furthermore, I will be bringing this matter up over dinner tonight at the President's house. I'm sure he and his guests will be most interested in how the administration of his own university is operating.

"And by the way, the dinner party is being given in honor of Mary Asprey, the famous novelist. As an alumna, I know she takes an avid interest in the affairs of her alma mater, particularly the more patriarchal machinations. I wonder what she'll make of this?"

And with that, Professor Picton hung up.

When Gabriel and Julia finally arrived at the Turtle Inn resort in Belize, it was late in the evening and the stars were already out. Julia explored their accommodations-a private hut on a secluded beach-while Gabriel ordered room service.

The walls of their hut were white, with the exception of a row of tall, teak panels that accordioned to open out onto the covered porch. The ceilings were a mixture of bamboo and thatch, and a large bed was centered in the room, shrouded in mosquito netting. Julia was particularly taken with the open air shower and bathtub that were located on a side veranda.

While Gabriel wrestled with the kitchen staff over the telephone, Julia quickly slipped out of her clothes and took a shower. The s.p.a.ce was not completely closed, affording the bather a view of the ocean. But since it was dark out and they were on a private beach, there was no possibility of being surprised by anyone, apart from one's lover.

"Dinner will arrive in about an hour. I'm sorry it's going to take so long." Gabriel licked his lips as he took in the sight of Julia in her bathrobe.

In contrast, he'd changed into a white linen s.h.i.+rt that was mostly unb.u.t.toned with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. He wore khaki pants with the hems rolled up, exposing his bare feet.

(Parenthetically, it should be noted that even his feet were attractive.) "Would you like to take a walk with me on the beach?"

"I think I'd rather do something else." She tugged him, smiling, toward the bed, and gave him a gentle push so he was seated on its edge.

He caught her by the belt of her robe. "I'd be content just to relax. It was a long trip." His face showed that he was in earnest, which somewhat surprised her.

"I miss you." Her voice dropped to a throaty whisper.

He pulled her so she was standing in between his knees and slid his hands to rest on her backside. "We could nap before dinner. There's no rush."

She rolled her eyes. "Gabriel, I want you to make love to me. If you're saying no, just tell me."

He gave her a very wide, very delighted grin. "I'd never say no to you, Miss Mitch.e.l.l."

"Good. Give me five minutes, Professor Emerson."

He sank down on his back, his feet still on the floor. Julia's newfound confidence was absolutely enticing. In a single sentence, she'd aroused him so much that he was already suffering.

It seemed like forever, but it was really only a few minutes later when Julia emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in his Christmas gift. The black satin fabric accentuated the pink and cream of her skin, while the corset itself made her b.r.e.a.s.t.s look fuller and her waist smaller. Gabriel couldn't help but admire the exquisite hourgla.s.s that was Julia's now transformed figure.

His eyes hungrily regarded the merest glimpse of black lace panties, paired with black-silk stockings that were held up by a garter belt. Finally and gloriously, a pair of black pumps decorated her feet.

Gabriel nearly had a heart attack when he gazed at the shoes alone.

"Bonsoir, Professeur. Vous allez bien?" Julia purred.

It took a moment for him to figure out why she'd made this linguistic choice, so taken as he was by her figure and her footwear.

Julia was wearing his beret.

When his eyes finally met hers, she watched him swallow hard. She pouted at him provocatively and removed her hat, tossing it at him. After he threw it aside, she walked slowly, very slowly, to the bed.

"I really like my Christmas present, Professor."

Gabriel gulped, at a loss for words.

"Have you seen the back?" She pivoted her hips, watching him over her shoulder.

He reached out a finger to touch the laces that tied the corset, dragging his hand down to the panties that cut across her pert backside.

"Enough teasing, Miss Mitch.e.l.l. Come here." He pulled her to him, bringing their mouths together in a forceful kiss.

"I'm going to take my time unwrapping my gift-with the exception of the shoes. I hope for your sake they're comfortable."

After ten minutes of knocking on the door, the room service waiter had to take their dinner back to the kitchen and await further instructions.

The instructions never came.

Long after midnight, beautiful music hung in the air from Gabriel's new playlist, including songs by Sarah McLachlan, Sting, and Matthew Barber. Julia was lying on her stomach amidst a tangle of linen sheets, drowsy and satisfied. Her back was exposed down to the two dimples that rested above the curve of her backside.

Gabriel had artfully placed part of the sheet over her bottom and retrieved his camera. He stood by the bed, snapping picture after picture until she yawned and stretched, like a sleepy cat.

"You're exquisite," he said, placing the camera to one side so he could sit by her.

She looked up with wide, happy eyes as he began running his long fingers down her spine, then gave a rueful smile. "When you love something, you don't see its flaws."

"That's true, I suppose. But you're beautiful."

She s.h.i.+fted so she could see him better, hugging her arms around a pillow. "Love makes things beautiful."

A familiar tightness spread across Gabriel's lips. His hand stilled on her lower back, just over the dimples.

She read the unspoken question in his eyes. "Yes, Gabriel, you're beautiful to me. The more I know you, the more I see who you really are and the more beautiful you become."

He kissed her, the light, appreciative kiss of a teenage suitor, and ran his fingers through her long, brown hair. "Thank you. You're hungry, aren't you?"

"Yes."

He looked over at the door. "I think we missed our dinner because we were feasting on-ah-other things."

"And what a feast it was, Professor. At least there's a fruit basket."

She sat up, wrapping the sheet around her torso, while he walked over to the large basket that was sitting on the coffee table. He found a Swiss army knife in the kitchenette, made an adjustment to the music, and brought a mango with him to bed.

"I needed to match the song to the fruit," he said, his blue eyes sparkling. "Now lie back."

She felt her heart rate begin to increase.

"You don't need this." Boldly, he pulled the sheet away. Now they were both naked.

"Who's singing?"

"Bruce c.o.c.kburn."

He began cutting the mango slowly, his eyes exploring Julia's body.

She gave him a quizzical look. "Naked lunch?"

"More like a naked midnight snack."

With deft fingers he cut a small slice of the fruit, juice dripping from his hands and onto her abdomen. She arched an eyebrow.

"Hmmm." He peered at the juice with an impish expression. "I'll have to take care of that."

She opened her mouth as he leaned forward to feed her. "You have a feeding fetish," she said, licking her lips and angling for more.

He bowed before her in obeisance, his tongue snaking out to capture the liquid from her stomach. "Pardon?" he asked.

Julia groaned incoherently.

"It isn't a fetish so much as an act that gives me joy. I like to care for you, and there's something sensual about sharing food with a lover." He eschewed her lips to kiss her shoulder, the tip of his tongue tasting her skin. Withdrawing, he cut another slice of fruit. A few droplets fell like liquid suns.h.i.+ne on her left breast.

"d.a.m.n. Forgive my mess."

He ran a sticky hand up and down her ribs, tantalizing one of his favorite erogenous zones, before placing his lips to her chest.

"You're killing me," she managed as his wet mouth found her nipple.

"I seem to recall saying that to you once. And you promised it would be a sweet death."

Julia opened her mouth to indicate her willingness to accept another piece. "I should have said a sticky death."

He placed a piece of mango on her tongue before stroking her lower lip with his thumb.

"I've thought of that. Don't worry."

Without warning, she moved so she was straddling his lap and placed her hands on either side of his face, pulling him toward her. They kissed pa.s.sionately for a moment before she took the mango and knife from his hand and placed a piece temptingly in her mouth.

He gave her a heated look before he brought their lips together, tugging the piece of fruit away with his teeth.

"Mmmmm," she hummed. "By the way, I don't think I ever saw the security video from our date at the museum."

She gently squeezed a piece of mango over his chest and began kissing and sucking across the droplet trail.

"Ah-ah -" Gabriel had trouble finding his words. "I've seen it. It's pretty hot."

"Really?" She sat back and languidly ate a piece of fruit in front of him, licking her fingers slowly.

"I'll show it to you later." He pulled her into a tight embrace, his hands sliding up and down her back. Then, when he couldn't stand it any longer, he tossed everything aside so he could lift her into his arms.

"Where are we going?" she asked, slightly alarmed.