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It was difficult to keep her thoughts together when he started trailing kisses along her neck. “Sexy dentist.” When he stopped his caressing, she added, “To help cure you of your dentist phobia. Iamyour loving wife after all, and helping you out during the bad times kind of comes with my job description.”
Finally, the kissing continued, and once again, she was reminded of how far they had come.
On her wedding day, she couldn’t have fathomed that they would be where they were now. Back then, she couldn’t wait for the day to be free of Gio. Now, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
Was everything perfect? No. Her man still had his “king of the universe” moments. Anything concerning her safety was non-negotiable. But as hernonnoalways said, the occasional marital spat was the pepper to a marriage, giving it spice. Then there was her sister. Carmen had gone through a personality change, as radical as she had ever seen. It was as if, one day, she woke up and had decided to not show any emotion anymore. It made Jazzy realize how dangerous it was to bottle everything up inside you, instead of dealing with what life threw at you. That was the second reason why she had taken the plunge into therapy. The first one being the promise she had made to herself when she was being held hostage by crazy Oscar and a Russian crime lord. Of course, back then, she didn’t know Kristoff and Gio knew each other from way back, and she ultimately didn’t have anything to worry about.
Another worry was her relationship with her grandfather. It was more strained since she’d learned that he was responsible for Gio’s parents’ deaths. But she couldn’t turn her back on him. He was still the man who had raised her after her parents had passed away, and she still loved him. Every time she went to see him, he seemed to shrink a little more. Gio didn’t try to keep her from going over to the Rossi mansion, and she was grateful for that. She wasn’t sure, if the situation had been reversed, she could have done the same. But if there was one truth she was sure of, it was that Giovanni Detta loved her and would do anything to see to her happiness.
Anything.
“My grandfather’s housekeeper called,” she informed Gio, looking him in the eye. “It seems that my grandfather has left for Europe this morning, to bury his son.” Silently, she asked him if he had anything to do with it. The faint smile on his lips told her all that she needed to know.
“Happy six-month anniversary,bella.”
Some men bought jewelry for their wives on an anniversary, other’s flowers. Her husband gave the best of gifts, for he had the power to slay demons. He gave her closure and peace of mind. After all, he was a Detta. As he had told her numerous times, he only had one job: to protect, to provide, and—as she had added to the new family slogan—to love.
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