“Ah, I’d like some juice please.”
“Sure. What kind?”
“Whatever you have.”
Gabriel placed his hands on either side of me. Leaning forward, gaiety sparkling in his gaze, he said, “We’ve got apple, grape, cranberry, grape-cranberry, punch, orange, and grapefruit.”
“All of that?”
“Yep.”
“How do you drink it all? You don’t, do you?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I love juice.”
“I’ll take…grape.”
“Grape it is.” Gabriel kissed my forehead. “Stay right here, baby, and I’ll be back.”
Kicking my feet while I waited, I asked the question I should’ve already asked. “Are your parents home?”
“No. They’re in Switzerland at the moment and won’t be back for another two weeks.”
“Oh. That’s…nice. I guess.”
Gabriel brought me a large glass filled with ice, juice, and topped off with a festive straw. “It’s been peaceful.”
Something flashed across his face, too quick to be analyzed but strange nonetheless. I cleared my throat and thanked him for the drink. Gabriel propped his chin on his hand and watched me take a sip. Self-conscious, I offered him some.
Delight danced in his eyes. He took the straw into his mouth without hesitation. The intimacy over the act emphasized why we were both there. Whenever I paused in my never-ending pursuit of excellence, I let myself wonder what it would be like when I finally found the one to go to bed with for the first time.
Logically, Gabriel would’ve never fit the bill. Spoiled, rich, and far too comfortable around the fairer sex, he was the last person my pride would allow myself to contemplate.
Unfortunately for my pride, Gabriel Gordon was the only one I ever truly considered.
And now here we were…
“Emma?”
“Yes?”
“Breathe.”
I laughed, titters that communicated just how nervous I was.
“Can I tell you something, Emma?”
The seriousness in his voice captured my attention completely. “Anything.”
“I want to make love to you. I want you naked in my bed, under me while I’m deep inside you. I want to taste all of you, from your tiny toes all the way to the top of your brilliant head.”
With parted lips and eyes full of wonder, I was quickly losing my nervousness.
“But…”
“But what?”
“But we don’t have to do that tonight. I just like being with you, Emma. We can watch a movie or better yet, we can talk about anything and everything. Hell, we can even do homework if you want.”
“Homework? I’m not that much of a nerd.”
“Really? Could have fooled me!”
I smacked his arm, much to his grinning delight. “Be nice.”
Gabriel smoothed a hand across his face. “Nice. I can do nice. See?”
“I see.”
“Do you want a tour of the house?”
I bit my lip and looked down at my drink. I didn’t really want to see the rest of his house. I was afraid that it would only make me feel the monetary and social gulf between us.
“Scratch that, Emma. How about we go upstairs? And remember, we don’t have to make love.”
“You’re not trying to trick me into bed?” I teased.
“Trick you? No. I want you to come to bed fully un-tricked.” Gabriel held out his hand, waiting for my decision. Waiting for me to trust him.
I set down the glass and reached for his hand. The slide of skin, the message of what the contact communicated, felt right. Gabriel squeezed my hand.
It wasn’t just me.
Silent, we both made our way out of the kitchen, down the hall, and up the wide curving staircase. I studied the various paintings gracing the wall. Once we arrived on the second floor, pictures replaced paintings. My footsteps slowed.
The pictures were beautifully staged. White outfits, beach scenes, lovely compositions. A family of three, golden and smiling. Other shots were of them on powder snow, skis pointing just so. Formal portraits were mixed with casual.
“Is this you?” I pointed to a chubby smiling baby.
“That would be me.”
Was Gabriel ever less than physically perfect? It hardly seemed fair for one person to hold an abundance of blessings—looks, family, wealth. Was there nothing he didn’t have?
I peered at the pictures, easily seeing that Gabriel favored his father. His mother was petite and blond, beautiful actually. I wondered how nice it must be to have both your parents, to know where your smile came from.
“You look like your dad.”
“Do I?” Gabriel glanced at the wall before looking away.
“Yeah, you do. You’re practically identical.”