"If your relationship was consensual, then the university can pursue disciplinary action against both of you. If you were a victim, then they'll only pursue him."

"I am not a victim. We are in a relationship, and we waited until after the semester was over before we became involved."

"No, you didn't."

Julia was incredulous. "Excuse me?"

"According to your story, you had an amorous relationship with him beginning around the end of October. You waited until after the semester was over to sleep with him. But given the way the non-fraternization policy is written, you violated it. Who knows about your relationship?"

"His family. My father. That's it."

"What about the student who accused your boyfriend of s.e.xual hara.s.sment?"

Julia gritted her teeth. "I don't know what she knows. But she hates me."

Soraya tapped her chin with her pen. "If you were accused of violating the non-fraternization policy, what kind of evidence, other than your testimony, could you offer for the fact that you weren't having a s.e.xual relationship with him while you were his student?"

"Why would you think the complaint has to do with Gabriel? The academic conduct policy covers things like plagiarism."

"I've met Dean Aras. He doesn't waste his precious time with plagiarism cases."

Julia sat back in her chair. "Oh my G.o.d."

"Let's hope someone is accusing you of a minor academic offense and that Dean Aras is simply taking a personal interest in your case. But just in case, what kind of evidence can you offer to prove you weren't trading s.e.x for grades?"

Julia flushed deeply. "Um, there is something."

"What is it?"

"I was a virgin before we went to Italy."

Soraya stared at her as if she was a mythical creature, such as, say, a heteros.e.xual man who knew the difference between Manolo Blahniks and Christian Louboutins.

"Do you have medical proof of that? Such as a doctor's note?"

Julia squirmed. "No."

"Then there's no point in bringing it up. Did anyone from the university see you and Gabriel together during the semester?"

"Not as far as I know. Although we went to a dance club with his sister back in September."

Soraya pursed her lips. "Bringing up the fact that you are a friend of his family is not a good idea. It establishes a possible conflict of interest. And being seen in his company in a public venue was not an intelligent choice, Miss Mitch.e.l.l. But frankly, he bears more blame than you because he should have known better.

"Since we don't know the nature of the complaint, our strategy should be to gather as much information as possible from the meeting while giving nothing away. That will buy us time to prepare for any disciplinary proceedings, should they arise. Hopefully, they won't.

"At the meeting with the Dean, I will speak for you. Since they haven't disclosed the nature of the complaint, it's possible that the complaint is specious and that they know this. We won't add fuel to their funeral pyre."

Soraya looked at Julia's downcast face and frowned. "You have to have confidence. You have to believe that the complaint is frivolous and that you've done nothing wrong. I've had dealings with the university's judiciary before, and I was fairly successful. I will be successful with your case too."

Julia took small comfort in Soraya's confidence, but some comfort was better than nothing.

"In the meantime, I would like a list of anyone who might have filed a complaint against you and why, and a detailed account of all your interactions with Miss Peterson. I'll have one of my a.s.sistants perform some background checks. I'll also place a call to a contact of mine at the university and see what I can find out.

"Until this matter is settled, you and Professor Emerson need to cool it. Don't be seen in public together. Don't talk to him about what you and I discuss. If the complaint is about fraternization, he will have his own counsel, who will look after his interests. I don't want my defense of you compromised by your pillow talk."

Julia's eyes flashed with a momentary heat. "Gabriel is much more than just a boyfriend. If I'm in danger so is he. Our relationship was consensual, and I have no interest in being defended at his expense. Any blame we have is equal between us."

Soraya gazed at Julia curiously.

"Are you sure that's his position? You told my secretary that John Green is Gabriel's attorney. Why isn't John representing you, if you and Gabriel are determined to show a united front?"

Julia opened her mouth to form an answer, but none occurred to her.

Soraya smiled sympathetically. "Listen, you aren't the first student to find herself in this situation. I'm sure it's upsetting and confusing. But you need to realize that if the complaint against you and your boyfriend escalates, it's quite possible he will break things off with you in order to protect his job. You need to prepare yourself in case he decides to throw you to the wolves."

"He would never do that. He loves me. We're talking about moving in together. And-other things."

Soraya gave her a condescending look. "Love can be easily killed, especially by unemployment. But let's take things one step at a time.

"Gabriel has sent over a retainer, which I will return. I think it's best for me to represent you pro bono."

Julia nodded uncomfortably. She had forgotten about the legal fees. "I will pay you, but it might take some time..."

"The point of taking a case for the good is so one can further the good. I don't see much good coming out of taking your money. You should be spending it on text books and moving expenses to Ma.s.sachusetts."

Soraya's smile tightened. "I am not a fan of the university's s.e.xual inquisitions. Anything I can do to embarra.s.s or humiliate Dean Aras is definitely for the good. Believe me, representing your interests will be one of the few pleasures I've had recently. I should be paying you for the privilege."

Later that evening Julia was curled up into a ball, trying to sleep in Gabriel's bed. He was in his study, furiously researching all the university policies that applied to graduate students, trying to figure out what had possibly come to the attention of the Dean.

The thought of Gabriel having to do that for her-the thought of his career possibly being threatened because of her, combined with the possibility of losing Harvard, made the tears come. It was all so overwhelming. And the worst part was not knowing what the specific danger was.

She wiped the tears away, willing herself to be strong. Gabriel walked into the bedroom to check on her, and upon seeing her face, slipped into bed behind her.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. Please don't cry." He paused. "I wouldn't have continued working if I'd known you were so upset. We've hired the best lawyer and we're going to fight this complaint. It's quite possible it's simply a misunderstanding and by Friday evening, it will all be over."

"What if this is about us?"

Gabriel clenched his teeth. "Then we'll deal with it together."

"What about the hara.s.sment complaint?"

"Don't worry about that. You focus on your thesis and your studies, and you let me worry about myself. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. I promise."

He rolled her onto her back and began sweeping soft kisses across her face.

"I'm afraid," she whispered.

Gabriel stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. "I know. But no matter what, I won't let them keep you from Harvard. It's going to be fine." He gave her a pained look. "What can I do, Julia? I don't know how to-comfort you."

"Kiss me."

Gabriel kissed her mouth-the hesitant, light kiss of a boy who was unsure how the girl next door would react. He needn't have worried.

Julia responded by wrapping his hair around her fingers and pulling his lips to hers, kissing him fiercely and coaxing his tongue into her mouth.

He kissed her back but with restraint, then pulled away before pressing their foreheads together. "I can't," he said.

"Please." She tugged at him, running her hands across his broad shoulders and down the sinews of his back, pulling him toward her.

"I can't make love to you while you're sad. I would feel like I was hurting you."

"But I need you."

"Wouldn't you rather I ran a hot bath or something?"

"Making love with you makes me happy because it reminds me how much you love me. Please. I need to feel like you want me."

His eyebrows knitted together. "Of course I want you, Julia. I just don't want to take advantage."

She was not the sort of woman who made many demands, and what demands she made were almost always good. And almost always about what was good for him.

Gabriel knew this, and it pained him to deny her and those large, sad brown eyes. But the trails of her tears had dampened his libido. He would far rather have held her tightly and tried to soothe her by being close, than to attempt an act he would not be able to perform.

Her face told him that she needed him, that she needed this and them and the conjunction of body and soul. While he stroked her hair, deciding what to do, he realized something about himself. No matter what his therapist had intimated, he was not a s.e.x addict. He was not a wanton hedonist with a ma.s.sive hunger who was willing to, as Scott had put it, screw anything female and attractive.

Julianne had changed him. He loved her. And even if she begged him, he couldn't become aroused while seeing her in pain.

She was still staring up at him, her fingers tracing up and down his naked back. He decided to give her part of what she wanted, to touch and caress her, focusing on distracting her with pleasurable feelings and sensations, hoping that it would be enough. He kissed her, slowing their pace to a gentle exploration. She ran her fingers through his hair, anchoring him to her as she softly scratched his scalp. Even in the midst of her sorrow and need, she was kind.

He feathered his lips to her neck and her ear where he whispered about how much she'd changed him. How much happier he was now that she was his.

She began to sigh as he adored her neck, dipping a playful tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat before kissing it chastely. He nipped at her collarbones, gently pulling aside the thin strap of her tank top so the white slope of her shoulder was bare to his mouth.

She would have removed her tank top for him, exposing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but he stopped her.

"Patience," he whispered.

He wound their fingers together and kissed the back of her hand, extending her arm so he could draw the flesh of her inner elbow into his mouth, pausing when she began to moan. He kissed every inch of her, gliding strong hands across soft skin, taking his cue from the heat that shot across her flesh and the sounds that escaped her lips.

When he was satisfied that her tears had stopped and she was asking him for more, he cast their clothes aside and knelt between her legs.

Soon she was shaking and crying out his name. In itself, this was the moment he craved most, even beyond his own climax-the sound of his name tripping from her lips amidst the waves of her satisfaction. She'd been so shy the first few times they made love. Every time she said Gabriel in that ecstatic, breathy whisper, a precious warmth overtook him.

This is what love is, he thought. Being naked and bare before one's lover and unashamedly calling her name in need.

In his own o.r.g.a.s.m, he reciprocated, telling her that he loved her. It was inextricably linked in his mind and experience-s.e.x and love and Julianne. The holy three.

He held her tightly while they caught their breath, smiling to himself. He was so proud of her, so happy she could give voice to her desires, even when she was sad. He kissed her softly and was grateful to see that her smile had returned.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Thank you, Julianne, for teaching me how to love."

Paul walked into the departmental office on Wednesday and was shocked by what he saw.

Julia was standing in front of the mailboxes, her skin pale and dull, with dark circles under her eyes. As he made his way over to her, she lifted her head and smiled at him thinly. Her smile alone pained him.

Before he could ask her what was wrong, Christa Peterson breezed in, her large Michael Kors bag dangling from her wrist. She looked remarkably well rested, and her eyes were bright. She was wearing red. Not cherry red or blood red, but scarlet. The color of triumph and power.

She saw Paul and Julia together and cackled quietly.

Paul's dark eyes shifted from Julia to Christa and back again. He watched as Julia hid her face while she checked her mailbox.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

"Nothing. I think I'm coming down with a cold."

Paul shook his head. He would have pressed her, gently this time, but Professor Martin entered the office at that moment.

Julia took one look at him and quickly picked up her messenger bag and her coat, hoping to make a break for the door.

Paul stopped her. "Would you like a cup of coffee? I was going to walk over to Starbucks."

Julia shook her head. "I'm pretty tired. I think I need to go home."

Paul's eyes glanced down at her bare neck, her bare unmarked neck, and moved back to her face.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"No. Thanks, Paul. I'm fine, really."

He nodded and watched her turn to leave, but before she could enter the hallway, he followed her. "On second thought, I should head home now too. I can walk with you, if you want."

Julia bit her lip but nodded, and the two friends exited the building into the bone chilling winter air. She wrapped her Magdalen College scarf around her neck, shivering against the wind.

"That's an Oxford scarf," Paul observed.

"Yes."

"Did you buy it in Oxford?"

"Um, no. It was a gift."

Owen, he thought. I guess he can't be a complete bonehead if he went to Oxford. Then again, Emerson went to Oxford...