“Um…I…don’t know.” She was trying to wake up and remember all at the same time.
“Is Paul with you?”
“No.”
Somehow, Gabriel felt relieved. “How did you get in? This is my carrel.”
Julia’s eyes flew to his, measuring his reaction. I am in so much trouble.
And so is Paul. Emerson will evict him now.
She moved forward rapidly, knocking the chair over in the process and tipping over a stack of books that had been resting near her hands. A ream of loose notebook paper was thrown aloft by the general upheaval and began falling about her like massive, pinstriped snowflakes. Gabriel thought that she looked like an angel — an angel in a child’s snow globe, with whiteness fluttering all around her.
Beautiful, he thought.
She began to scramble, trying to put everything back in order. She was repeating an apology over and over again like a decade of the Rosary, mumbling something about borrowing Paul’s key. She was sorry. So very, very sorry.
In one stride, Gabriel was next to her, his hand gently but firmly on her shoulder. “It’s all right. You are welcome to be here. Be still.”
Julia closed her eyes and willed herself and her heartbeat to slow. It was very difficult to do; she was so afraid he would lose his temper and banish Paul from his precious carrel. Forever.
Gabriel inhaled sharply, and her eyes flew open, glazing over at his touch.
He brought his head close to her face and peered down at her. “Julianne? You’ve gone pale. Are you unwell?”
He didn’t know what to do. Why was she acting so strangely? Perhaps she was weak from hunger or not quite awake. The room was very warm.
Too warm. She’d left the heater on. He caught her just as she swooned, wrapping her tightly and pulling her into his chest. She was not unconscious, at least, not yet.
“Julianne?” He pushed the hair out of her eyes and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek.
She murmured something, and he realized she hadn’t fainted, but was leaning against him as if she didn’t have the strength to stand. He held her to keep her from hitting the upturned chair or the floor.
“Are you okay?”
He began to move her so that she could sit down, but she clung to him, wrapping her arms about his neck without hesitation. He liked the feel of her pressed against him, so he hugged her tightly and leaned down to sniff her hair, somewhat surreptitiously. Vanilla. Her little body pressed against his perfectly, as if their shapes were ideal complements. It was astonishing.
“What happened?” she mumbled against his sweater, which was a brilliant green calculated to contrast with the blue of his eyes.
“I’m not sure. I think you grew light-headed because you stood up too quickly. And it’s hot in here.”
She smiled weakly, a smile that melted his heart.
Julia desperately wanted to kiss him. He was close. So very, very close.
Two inches and those lips would be hers…again. And his eyes were soft and warm…and he was being sweet with her…
He pulled back from her minutely, testing her to see if she was going to fall over. When she didn’t, he placed her gently on top of the desk before righting the chair. Then he withdrew to the door of the carrel and straightened his tie.
“I don’t mind if you use the carrel — not at all. I was just surprised to find you here. In fact, I’m glad Paul suggested you use it. There’s no problem.” He smiled to put her at ease, watching as she grasped the surface of the desk for support. “I was looking for a book Paul borrowed.” He held the volume aloft and turned to look at Julia again.
Moving slowly but carefully, she stood up and began to stack books on the desk and pick up the white sheets of paper that had drifted to the floor.
“Were you supposed to meet Paul tonight?”
“He’s gone to a graduate student conference at Princeton. He’s presenting a paper tomorrow.” She looked over at him cautiously, and when she saw that his head was cocked to one side and he was still smiling, she relaxed. Marginally.
“Princeton. Yes, of course. I forgot. That’s a very fine briefcase you have.” He smiled at her knowingly, gesturing to the bag that was propped up against the wall.
Julia blushed, trying very hard to keep her secret knowledge secret.
“But there appears to be something alive in there. I can see a pair of ears poking out of one of the zippers.”
She whirled around. Gabriel was right; two little brown ears could be seen sticking out of the briefcase, almost as if she had tried to smuggle a pet into the library. Julia blushed even more deeply.
“May I?” He gestured to the briefcase, but made no move as he waited for her permission.
Hesitantly, she pulled the stuffed toy out of the briefcase and handed it to him, biting her lip in embarrassment.
Clearly Miss Mitchell has a bunny fetish.
Gabriel held the toy rabbit between his thumb and forefinger, gazing at it curiously as if he didn’t know what it was. Or as if, in a fit of temper, it might decide to emulate the behavior of the famous rabbit in Monty Python and the Holy Grail and go right for his throat. Gabriel placed a hand to his neck as a precaution and resisted the sudden and overwhelming urge to say Ni.
The toy was brown, of course, and soft, made of velvet or something.
It had long ears and short limbs and very pleasant-looking whiskers. It stood straight up, looking rather stiff. It looked familiar to him, strangely enough. Something Grace would have owned and loved. Something from a childhood he never had.
Around its neck someone had tied a very sloppy bow out of pink ribbon. Gabriel measured the bow with his eyes and came to the conclusion that someone who was either slightly handicapped (no disrespect intended), or perhaps who had very large hands and lacked the fine motor skills of someone who was gifted with manual dexterity (such as himself), had tied the bow, such as it was. And there was a card.
Not wishing to embarrass her further, he smiled and let his eyes dart momentarily to the card, just so he could catch a glimpse of it: R,
Someone to keep you company while I’m away.
See you when I get back.
Yours,
Paul.
The Angelfucker strikes again, Gabriel growled to himself.
He handed the bunny back to Julia. “It’s very — ah — nice.”
“Thank you.”
“But who is R?”
Julia turned away as she placed Paul’s latest gift back into her briefcase, taking great care not to catch the bunny’s ears in the teeth of the zipper.
“It’s one of my nicknames.”
“But why that letter? Why not something that begins with B?”
Julia frowned at him. Like what? Bitch? Badass? Bovine? Bunny?
“Beautiful,” said Gabriel. Then he blushed, for the word had slipped out by mistake. “So you’ve been asleep here for hours, with Rabbit Songs and a pet rabbit to keep you company? I didn’t realize you were a bunny lover.”
Julia seemed embarrassed. He couldn’t help himself; the characterization was obvious, if a little flirtatious.
“I like your choice in music.”
“Thank you.” She quickly turned off her ancient laptop and placed it carefully in her briefcase with the cd.
“The library is closing shortly. What would you have done if I hadn’t arrived?”
She looked around, slightly confused. “I don’t know.”
“If no one noticed that the carrel light was on when they checked this floor, you could have been locked in the library all night. Without any food.” His smile slid off his face at the mere idea. “What are you going to do to ensure that doesn’t happen in the future?”
She looked around quickly. “Set the alarm on Paul’s clock?”
He nodded as if that answer satisfied him. But it didn’t. “Are you hungry?”
“I should be going, Professor. I’m sorry I’ve intruded on your personal space.”
If only you knew how true your words were, Julianne.
“Miss Mitchell, stop.” He took a step closer as she picked up her new briefcase with one hand and cleared the desk of debris with the other. “Have you had your dinner?”
“No.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows knitted together like thunderous clouds.
“When did you have lunch?”
“At noon.”
He scowled. “That was almost eleven hours ago. What did you have?”
“A hot dog from the cart in front of the library.”
Gabriel cursed. “You can’t live on that kind of rubbish. And I wouldn’t eat street meat ever. You promised you’d tell me if you were going hungry — and now you’re fainting on me.”
He glanced at his white-gold Rolex Day-Date. “It’s too late to take you for steak — Harbour Sixty is closed. Why don’t you join me for dinner somewhere else? I was caught up working on my lecture, and I haven’t eaten either.”
Julia stared at him. “Are you sure?”
His expression hardened. “Miss Mitchell, I am not the kind of person who makes idle invitations. If I invite you to dinner, then I’m sure. Now are you coming or not?”
“I’m not dressed for dinner, thank you very much.” Her voice was satin over steel, and she arched an eyebrow at him. She had gotten over her initial shock at being surprised in his carrel and was now fully awake and fully annoyed at his tone.