“Her admission was conditional on the satisfactory completion of her MA. She can ask, but I don’t think she’s in a position to ask for a deferral. And if Harvard catches wind of this, they might withdraw their offer.”

“Then she’d better pray this matter is settled in time for her to apply to graduate. And frankly, so should you. If you’re found guilty of academic fraud, the Provost can strip you of your tenure.”

“Fuck.” Gabriel slammed his hand down on his desk. “When will we have to appear before the committee?”

“Thursday, March twenty-fifth.”

“That leaves them less than a month to sort everything out before she needs to apply for graduation.”

“Academic procedures move at a glacial pace. You know that.” He cleared his throat. “Aren’t you the slightest bit worried about your predicament?”

“Not particularly,” Gabriel growled.

“Well, you should be. And what’s more, my primary concern is you, although I would be sorry to see Julianne’s academic future threatened.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“And I’m not about to let one of my star professors be hung out to dry.” Jeremy heaved a deep breath. “Under the policy you’re suspected of violating, you bear more responsibility than her. You’re under suspicion of evaluating a student with reference to a criterion that has nothing to do with academic merit.”

“That’s preposterous and you have the paper trail to prove it.”

“No, I don’t.” Jeremy began tapping his finger against the pages in front of him. “I have a paper trail, but it’s incomplete. You didn’t notify me until recently that you were involved with her. Now my boss is starting to ask questions. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me? I look like I just fell off the turnip truck and have no idea what the hell is going on in my own department!”

Gabriel inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you fucked up, Gabriel, no matter how you look at it. And I’m not about to jeopardize everything I’ve worked for to cover your ass.”

Professor Emerson was stunned into silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating her? I hired you, for God’s sake.”

“Because I didn’t think it was anyone’s business who I was sleeping with.”

“You can’t be serious.” Jeremy muttered a curse. “You know the rules governing relationships with students. Since you kept your relationship secret from me and everyone else, you look guilty.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Jeremy, can I count on your support or not?”

“I’ll do what I can, but that might not be much. If I were you, I’d notify the Faculty Association and make sure you bring your union representative to the hearing.”

“This is a witch hunt that was started by a disgruntled graduate student. Christa Peterson is trying to have me fired.”

“You might be right. But before you get on your soapbox, realize that you violated university policy. That makes it much easier for the administration to infer that you’re guilty of other infractions. And by the way, I received an email from the Dean asking me about the M. P. Emerson bursary. For your sake, I hope your fingerprints aren’t on it.”

Gabriel let loose with a string of curses. Jeremy interrupted him.

“If you don’t have a lawyer, my friend, now would be the time to hire one.”

Gabriel muttered something and hung up the phone, walking swiftly to his dining room to pour himself a drink.

* * *

Although Gabriel notified the Faculty Association of his situation, he declined their offer to accompany him to the hearing. John was of the opinion that his legal acumen was far more threatening than that of the union, but he was willing to admit that should the matter result in charges, it would be appropriate at that point to involve them.

John’s advice was to stonewall, although he urged Gabriel to coach Julianne on what not to say. Failing that, he had every intention of arguing that she was an unstable, impressionable student who had become fixated on Gabriel at a young age and had seduced him.

Hoping that his client would follow instructions, John didn’t bother to explain this strategy.

Soraya’s advice paralleled that of John. She told Julia to say nothing and if pressed, to blame Gabriel for everything. Soraya almost cackled with glee at the prospect of arguing that he was the older, rakish professor who had seduced an innocent young woman with promises of a long and happy future. When Julia declared that she wanted to tell the truth, Soraya told her that that was a very bad idea. She planned to bring up Gabriel’s promiscuous reputation and brushes with law enforcement.

Like John, she anticipated a cooperative client and thus didn’t bother articulating the details of her strategy.

The night before the hearing, Julia was awakened mid-dream by the sound of something tapping against her apartment window. At first, she thought she was still dreaming. When the sound repeated, this time more loudly, she exited her bed and pulled aside the curtain. There, standing with his nose almost pressed against the glass, was Gabriel. He looked slightly wild, eyes frantic, wearing his beret and his winter coat, standing knee-deep in a snowdrift.

She quickly unlocked the window and stood aside as a gust of frozen air whooshed past him with his entrance into the room. He closed the window soundly, locked it, and drew the curtain.

“Gabriel, what are you—”

She wasn’t given the chance to finish her question as he wrapped her in his arms. She smelled the Scotch before she tasted it, as he pressed his lips to hers. His lips were freezing, it was true, but his mouth and tongue were warm and inviting. And the heat of his kiss, which was deep and sensual, began to blossom across her skin.

“Are you drunk? What happened?”

He pulled away, but only for a moment, so he could divest himself of his hat and coat. Then he was embracing her once again, tracing icy fingers up and down her arms, unbuttoning her pajama top and slipping a hand inside to cradle her breast.

He moved her to the bed as he pulled his shirt out of his trousers, watching her slip off her pajamas as he carelessly dropped everything to the floor. Within an eye blink they were naked and he was pulling her into his arms, tugging her legs around his hips. They’d never been this quick to undress and to love.

As he walked her to the closed door and pressed her back against it, his movements grew frantic and desperate. His cold fingers teased her while his mouth trapped her breast, sucking and nipping.

She was crying out already, still shocked at his speechless fervor.

A few moments later she was distracted by the difference in temperature between their bodies: the taut, hard coldness of his chest pressing against her soft, warm curves. When he felt with thawing fingertips that she was ready, he thrust up into her, grunting into the crook of her neck in preliminary satisfaction, his upper body relaxing slightly at the feel of her. There was no space between their bodies or air between their skin.

Julia moaned appreciatively at the sensation of being one with her beloved. Her hands immediately slid from his shoulders to his hips, and she pulled at his lower back to encourage him forward. It was a cacophony of unembarrassed sounds and noises, made far more animalistic by its lack of language and of course, the rhythmic bumping of Julia’s back against the heavy wooden door.

Their coupling was loud and fast, perhaps the most intense physical connection they’d ever had, topping even their sex against the wall in Florence. Soon they were exploding jointly into bliss, hearts racing and blood pumping, clutching one another and crying out. Then finally, finally, they collapsed into a tangle of flesh and limb in limpid satisfaction on Julia’s narrow bed.

Gabriel was on top of her, but she would not let him move. He shifted slightly to distribute his weight to the mattress, but he too was unwilling to break the contact of skin against skin.

She petted his hair and told him how much she loved him as he buried his nose in the hollow of her throat, inhaling her scent. She told him that he didn’t need to drink, that he could talk to her, instead.

Gabriel sighed against her neck. “I am talking to you,” he whispered, pressing insistent kisses across her shoulder. “You aren’t listening.”

Before Julia could argue, he began exploring her mouth. Further discussion was silenced as he enticed her to join with his body once more.

When she awoke the next morning the apartment was quiet. In fact, there was no sign of her evening visitor apart from an unlocked window and the scent of Gabriel and sex that clung to her body and the bed.

She searched the studio expecting a note, a message, something. But there was nothing, not even an email. A creeping sense of dread spread over her.

* * *

Julia wore her hair long the next morning, following Soraya’s instructions, for it made her look sweet and innocent. At eleven o’ clock sharp she met her lawyer in the hallway outside the boardroom.

Gabriel and John were already there, huddled next to the wall and talking in low, hurried tones. They were both dressed in dark suits and white shirts. But the similarity ended there. Gabriel wore a bow tie. The green of his tie contrasted sharply with the blue of his eyes.

He made eye contact with her briefly, enough for her to notice that he looked worried. He didn’t smile or beckon to her. He seemed content to keep his distance.

She wanted to go to him, but Soraya pulled her to sit on a low bench just outside the door. Suddenly, the door swung open and a large, angry looking rugby player strode into the hallway.

“Paul?” Julia stood up.

He stopped, surprised.

“Julia? Are you all right? Tell me it isn’t—”

Mid-sentence and mid-stride Paul stopped as he saw the face of Soraya, who was now standing behind her. He stared at the two women, eyes wide and questioning at first, then narrowing. Muttering curses, he scowled and strode past both of them.

“Paul?” Julia called to him, but he disappeared down the stairs.

“Do you know him?” asked Soraya.

“He’s a friend.”

“Really?” Soraya seemed incredulous.

Julia turned to face her. “Why? Do you know him?”

“He filed a complaint last year against one of my clients. That’s when I made an enemy of the Dean.”

It took a moment for the import of Soraya’s revelation to sink into Julia’s brain. But when it did, she sat down slowly.

Soraya was Professor Singer’s attorney? What have I gotten myself into?

Her answer to that question was interrupted by the Dean’s assistant, Meagan, who announced that the hearing officers would prefer to interview Miss Mitchell and Professor Emerson, together.

After a quick consultation with their lawyers, Gabriel and Julia entered the boardroom, followed by John and Soraya. As soon as they arranged themselves on opposite sides of the aisle, Dr. Aras spoke. As was his practice, he introduced himself and the other members of the committee, Professors Tara Chakravartty and Robert Mwangi.

“Dr. Tara Chakravartty, Vice-President of Diversity.” Professor Chakravartty was a beautiful and petite woman of Indian descent, with dark eyes and long, straight black hair. She was dressed in a black suit with a large persimmon-colored scarf swathed like a sari around her torso. She too, smiled at Julia, in between withering glances and the occasional scowl in David’s direction.