When she questioned him, he grew even more belligerent, demanding to know whom she was attempting to seduce in the hotel room he’d paid for.
As soon as she said Gabriel’s name, he’d backhanded her.
She’d never been struck before. There were a lot of things she’d never experienced before last night and this morning. She looked down between her legs where the flesh was tender and raw. She hadn’t consented. She hadn’t consented to any of it.
Giuseppe’s previous tenderness had disappeared entirely. He’d been in a rage, ripping the fabric from her body and forcing her to the bed. He’d called her names, cursing her and Gabriel, and when she struggled, he’d struck her again.
She stumbled to the toilet as she recalled the assault, emptying the contents of her stomach. When she was finished, she leaned against the counter and drank a glass of water.
She thought she was in control. She decided whom to f**k and what they must give her in return. She was the one who spurned lovers. But last night the control had been taken away from her.
He’d taken more than that. She fought angry, frustrated tears at the memory.
She crept back to the bedroom to make sure that he was still sleeping. When she heard the low sound of his snores, she knew it was time.
Hastily, she pulled on some clothes, not caring if the colors or styles matched. She tossed her belongings in her suitcase, leaving the torn remnants of last night’s lingerie on the floor.
She heard a loud intake of breath coming from the bed and spun around, terrified.
Giuseppe muttered something and his snoring recommenced.
Christa located her purse and her passport and grabbed them, along with her coat. She was almost to the door when she realized that her Baume & Mercier watch was sitting on the nightstand. It was mere inches from his head.
She wanted to retrieve it. The watch was very valuable, for sentimental reasons.
As she approached the bed, Pacciani’s breathing grew more uneven. A groan escaped his mouth and he rolled toward her.
Without looking back, she fled to the door, opening and closing it quietly.
She left the watch behind.
As she entered the taxi that would whisk her to the railway station, she began plotting her revenge. All thoughts of Professor Gabriel O. Emerson and his young wife, Julianne, fled from her mind.
Chapter Nineteen
I’m sorry I didn’t attend your graduation in Toronto.” Gabriel held Julia’s hand as they explored the Ashmolean Museum, which was across the street from the Randolph Hotel.
“I searched for you. I was so sure you’d be there.”
“I couldn’t be in the same room as you and not go to you. To do that in front of Jeremy and Dean Aras . . .” Gabriel shook his head. “I’ll go to your next graduation.”
“Promise?”
“Absolutely.”
She reached up to press their lips together. “Thank you.”
They continued walking through the museum, stopping to admire some of the items on display. When they stopped in front of a panel that displayed a medieval painting of St. Lucy, Julia was reminded of Rachel.
“Your sister sent me an email. She asked how my paper went.”
“Is she pregnant?”
“She didn’t say. If she isn’t, it’s not for lack of trying.”
Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “I don’t need that kind of image.”
“I’m sure Rachel doesn’t need that kind of image of you, either. But she was almost as happy as me when we consummated our relationship.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms in a dark corner.
“She said she’s looking forward to visiting us in Cambridge Labor Day weekend.”
“Quiet, now. I’m trying to kiss you.”
Julia laughed. “Just a minute. I’m not done.”
“Hurry up,” he pouted, bringing his lips to within an inch of hers.
“This is important.” She gave him a scolding look. “Rachel and Aaron would like us to light a candle for them in Assisi. They want us to pray that they’ll have a baby.”
“I think Richard’s prayers would be more efficacious than mine. Although I’m still praying for one more thing.”
Gabriel couldn’t hide the brightness of hope that shone in his eyes, as if his unanswered prayer were a treasure that he desperately desired.
Julia noted the change but said nothing. She’d just celebrated her triumphal coming out into academic society the day before. Now Gabriel was hinting at having a child. Somehow the hope in his eyes made her discomfort all the more painful.
The light in his eyes dimmed.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He released her from his arms.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re repulsed by me.”
“I’m not repulsed.” She forced a smile.
“Is the thought of having a child with me so repulsive?” Gabriel’s features hardened.
“Of course not.” She wound their fingers together. “It’s difficult for me to think about children when I’d rather focus on conference presentations and grad school.”
“It isn’t an either-or proposition, Julianne. I’d never make you sacrifice your dreams. I think I’ve demonstrated that ably enough.” His voice was glacial.
“As you may recall, your sacrifice caused us both a great deal of pain.”
“Point taken.” He released her hand and gestured to the hallway. “Shall we?”
“Gabriel.” She placed a light hand on his arm. “I told you before we were married that the thought of having little blue-eyed boys with you made me happy. It still does.”
“Then why can’t we talk about it? God, Julianne. If we were going to go to Africa, we’d talk about it. If we were going to build a house, we’d talk about it. Why can’t we talk about having a child?”
“Because I can’t say no to you, not when you look so happy and hopeful.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t bear to be the one standing between you and your dreams, like a coldhearted wench.”
“Darling,” he murmured, sweeping her into a tight embrace. “Nothing could be further from my mind.”
His hand found the skin of her neck, underneath her hair, and he stroked it tenderly.
“This isn’t the best place to have this conversation, but I promise I don’t think of you that way. I told you I’d wait. I understand you want to finish your program. Watching you yesterday, I don’t know when I’ve been more proud of you. You were fantastic.” He pressed his lips to just below her ear. “When I bring up the subject of a family, I swear I’m not trying to pressure you. I’m simply bringing up a topic that makes me happy, hoping that it will make you happy too. We can talk about the future and make plans without changing our time line. Starting a family is a momentous decision, especially given our backgrounds. I know that you’ve given the matter some thought. I’m simply asking that we talk about it. But we certainly don’t need to talk about it now. I’m sorry for bringing it up on the heels of your lecture. Just promise me we’ll talk about it someday, even if it’s in the most general of terms.”