Catherine's POV
The smell of coffee hit me before I even stepped into the dining room. I could still feel Julian's voice, the heat of his palms on my thighs, and the humiliation that came right after.
Every time I blinked, it replayed in flashes. I'd spent half the night tossing and turning, cursing him, cursing myself, trying to pretend none of it had happened.
"Morning," Gabriel said, with a smile on his face, lifting his coffee cup in greeting. "Hope you got enough sleep?"
"Hey, yes," I murmured, sliding into the seat across from him.
He looked irritatingly fresh, his hair slightly damp from a shower, and his white T-shirt was neatly ironed. Meanwhile, I felt like a walking mess with a forced calm plastered over me.
There was a basket of toast between us and a steaming pot of tea. I reached for the cup, grateful for something to do with my hands.
"Did you finish your project?" I asked, trying to sound normal.
