by Shanna Bell
Dirty.
You little slut.
The memory made her feel so dirty.
She shucked her clothes off and stepped into the shower, letting the powerful jets hit her body. She didn’t move from underneath the hard spray until she felt clean again. Then she turned the water off and crawled into bed.
Sleep. She needed to sleep until the pain would stop.
CHAPTER 24
GIO
Gio put down the letter from Mike. He knew the painter had been Jazzy’s only lover. Another man might be happy to know that his wife didn’t have many lovers, but he wasn’t one of them. This Mike had been her only lover for a reason. What if she still had feelings for him?
Jazzy wasn’t on the terrace or in the library, or in any of the other places he could usually find her. Instead, he found her in their bed, which was unusual, since it was only eleven o’clock. Jazzy was a bit of a night owl during the week, staying up till midnight.
He took a quick shower and went to bed. The second she felt his side of the bed dip, she rolled over and nestled against his chest.
He probably should ask about the letter and the painting, but he didn’t. What he did do, was kiss her. This was what he’d been looking forward to all day. What he craved. The one thing in his life that was totally his. His to protect, his to pleasure, and his to hold. He was going to eradicate any other man from her mind.
She spread her legs and pressed up against him.
Never before had he fucked a woman who was so responsive to him. Jazzy was adventurous in bed and a natural submissive between the sheets. Outside of the bedroom, she might be hell on wheels but inside, she liked giving up control.
After he made her come, she cuddled up to him again. He had noticed that about her from their first night. She loved crawling against him in bed, seeking his warmth, and probably for comfort and protection; though she would never admit that.
“I received a painting today,” she suddenly said.
“It’s a good painting,” he admitted begrudgingly. He might not like the artist, but he couldn’t deny the talent. There was a beauty in the phoenix he’d drawn. A beauty and strength to it, up to the resilience the fire beneath the bird represented, and that he associated with his wife.
“It’s from Mike. We grew up together. He was my childhood sweetheart. We had to keep it secret from my grandfather for most of our lives. Antonio Rossi’s granddaughter with the son of a maid? God forbid.”
There was a rawness in her tone that worried him. “Yet you kept seeing each other.”
She nodded. “Up until the first year of college. When I finally got out of the mansion, away from underneath my grandfather’s thumb, well, as away as was possible, we no longer had to hide our relationship. Ironically, that was when we discovered that we didn’t want to be together. Not like that. It’s odd how you can yearn for something when it’s forbidden, and the second you get what you want, it loses its appeal. We knew we were better off as friends.”
He would lie if he said that he wasn’t relieved to hear that. The thought of her heart belonging to another man was maddening.
“Mike had always dreamed about seeing the big masters: Da Vinci, Rembrandt, Raphael, you name it. Unfortunately, he never had the money to travel and he would die before taking anything from me. That’s why I went to Europe when I fled from you.” She chuckled, and he was relieved to hear her laugh, even if it was at his expense. “I promised to finish his bucket list for him.”
“What monster did he want to slay for you, bella?”
She stiffened in his arms. “You read the letter. You had no right.”
No, he didn’t. Still, he was glad he did. “Answer my question.”
“It’s just an expression.”
“No, it’s not. It was his last letter to you. Every word is thoroughly considered before it was written. See, he didn’t speak in a general sense of monsters, but he used the word monster; singular. Tell me who your monster is.”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Do you understand what you’re asking of me? You’re telling me to let go of a threat to my wife,” he snapped. Like he would ever let anyone live that meant her any harm. For if, God forbid, anyone ever hurt her, he would make the world burn. Then another thought hit him. “Does Antonio know?”
“Please, Gio, just let it go.”
She should know by now that he wouldn’t, couldn’t, let go of something that was a threat to her. “Of course he doesn’t know,” he answered his own question. “If he did, he wouldn’t let him live, whoever this monster is.”
Her lips remained sealed. Stubborn woman. For a second there, he expected her to bolt, and he was readying himself to chain her to the bed if necessary. To his surprise, she gave a deep sigh and snuggled into him.
“I’m safe with you,” she said. “I’m safe.”
The second part felt as if she were talking more to herself than reassuring him of her safety. Of course, he wasn’t reassured at all.
Tonight, he would let this go. But come tomorrow, Jocelyn Detta, was going to wake up in a brave new world.
CHAPTER 25
JAZZY
Jazzy sat in her car before the front gate, when she found her key wasn’t working. The gate remained ominously shut.
A spark of worry fluttered in her chest. Hector didn’t look like he was coming over to tell her the gate remained closed because of a technical flaw.
She lowered the car window when he knocked on it. “What’s going on, Hector?”
“You can’t leave.”
“What do you mean, I can’t leave?”
“Gio’s orders,” he said, giving her a scrutinizing look. “Something about keeping you inside while he was on a monster hunt. I really hope he doesn’t mean some role play by that, ‘cause my men get paid by the hour and they ain’t cheap.”
Unbelievable!
She drove her car back into the garage, and then stomped into the house, all the while dialing Gio.
“Yes, bella?”
“Don’t you ‘bella’ me. I want you to call off your henchmen.”
“Henchmen? All of Hector’s men are highly trained ex-military. I don’t think they would appreciate the word you use for them.”
“I don’t care what they would or would not appreciate. How about you consider things that I don’t appreciate? Let me give you a hint. Being locked up is at the top of my list!”
“Since we’re discussing things we don’t appreciate,” he said, his voice suddenly sounding dead serious, “my number one is not appreciating it when my wife is keeping things from me. Especially when that thing concerns her safety.”
She hung up on him, fuming from the inside. The rest of the day, she spent cursing her husband and holding a conference call with Tommie. Since it was too embarrassing to admit that she had been grounded like a child, she told him she had the flu. By the time the sun had set, she was still spitting mad, but at least had some sort of idea how she was going to handle Mr. I’m-king-of-your-world.
She waited for him, draped over their bed, wearing her sexiest lingerie. It was a red, completely see-through, negligee. When he walked inside their bedroom, his eyes flamed up.
Good.
She gave him a sweet smile. “Take a good look. Because that’s all you’ll be doing until you let me out of this house. Looking, but no touching. You want to keep me a prisoner in my own home?”
“So you admit this is your home?”
She ignored that comment. “If I have to suffer, so will you. These knees are staying closed.”
He walked up to the bed, while taking off his dress jacket. “Who do you think to punish with this attempted dry spell, bella?”
She didn’t deign that with an answer.
He stalked toward her, his eyes on her breasts, and literally pounced on her. She tried to roll over but didn’t make it before he came down on top of her.
“Get off me, I’m pissed at you.”
“Te
ll me who this monster is.”
“Get off me,” she repeated.
He let go of her with a sigh.
They didn’t make love that night, or the following night. Nor did she speak a word to him, giving him the classic silent treatment. Unfortunately, he only seemed to find that amusing. She was beginning to suspect that her silence was more of a reward than a punishment.
She’d hung Mike’s painting in her home office. It felt too personal to hang it out in the open for everyone to see. Looking at it, she knew what her friend had tried to do. Much like Mary, he had insisted on her getting help to deal with her issues concerning the past. She had always refused. The phoenix, and what it represented, was his final plea for her to face her demons. Sadly, she couldn’t do that. Some things were just better left buried.
On the third day of her imprisonment, Jazzy was ready to climb the walls. Of course, she wouldn’t give Gio the satisfaction of showing him what he did to her mental state of mind. So, she’d kept to herself, only leaving the house for a run. Luckily, their estate was huge, so she had enough room to cover. Unfortunately, it was also extremely well-guarded, which she discovered when she went looking for weak spots while casually strolling around. Something that had Hector actually smirking.
Today, she also received the news that her grandfather was admitted to a hospital. She spoke to him on the phone, and although he reassured her that he was fine and already back home, she wanted to go see him for herself.
She waited all day for Gio to return home. She even had Thea prepare his favorite meal to get him in a good mood.
He gave her a curious look from over the dining room table, when she asked if he wanted more wine. When he said he did, she poured him another glass and sat back across him.
“My grandfather was admitted to the hospital today. I would like to go visit him tonight.”
“No.”
It was as if a vice constricted around her heart. “No? That’s it? Just, no?”
“No.”
That one word crushed her and left her heartbroken. “I’m starting to understand how you earned the name Black Ice,” she whispered.
If she thought the comment would phase him, she couldn’t have been more wrong. He continued his dinner, as if she hadn’t spoken a word.
Unable to sit at the same table with him, she rose to her feet and left the room.
Counting on his sympathy clearly wasn’t going to do it. It was time to call in the big guns. She went into her home office and called Tess.
“Hi, Jaz, haven’t heard from you in a while,” her friend’s cheery voice sounded. “Need me to ground some more bad guys for you?”
“Hi, Tess. Nothing like that, but I do need some info on someone. A slimy someone.”
“Ooh, I like the sound of that. How slimy are we speaking here? The kind you want me to dig up dirt on and send his ass to a galaxy far, far away, as in, to prison by an anonymous tip? You know I can find anything on anyone,” she boasted.
No matter how dire the situation, Tess always managed to make her smile, and put in a Star Wars quote. “I just need to know that this person is still far, far away from me. As in, ‘on another continent’ far away.” She gave her Marco’s name and some basic information.
“On it. I’ll get back to you ASAP.”
She was going to have to be the reasonable one here. So, her plan was simple. Marco was in Monaco, or somewhere else in Europe, enjoying the good life. She was going to make Gio promise to not take any action against him, and then show him proof that Marco hadn’t entered the States in over a decade. It seemed like it was the only way she was going to get out of this damn golden cage.
The next morning, she woke up to Gio’s hand gently grabbing her chin, turning her face to him. Then his hand trailed down over her body. Over her breasts, kneading the mounds, but not giving any attention to her treacherous nipples that had already sprung to life. From there, it continued its journey to her belly button, dipping in it, after which, it went to her special place. Her hot core that was already wet and burning for him.
All the while, they were silently laying next to each other, his face studying her. Him on his side, her on her back, panting, as his fingers reached her core.
She couldn’t help herself. She spread her legs, giving him more room to wreak havoc on her body, make the magic happen.
But even in her lust-induced mind, she had to keep this real. She wasn’t the type to lead anyone on, least of all him.
“I’m not going to suck you off or ride your dick,” she said, putting her foot down. He had to know what he was in for.
He didn’t react. He just pushed two fingers inside her, pumping them ferociously, as the pad of his thumb drew circles around her mound, making her shudder.
This was crazy. They were both in bed, covers tucked up to their waists, barely saying a word as Gio fingered her. He kept up the pace, going faster by the minute, harder, deeper; oh so deep.
She bit her bottom lip, determined not to make a sound as she got off. Yes, it was petty, but he enjoyed her being vocal in bed, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy this. This was for her. She’d earned an orgasm after all the stress he had put her through, damn it.
Her back arched when he pressed all five fingers inside her, and a violent quake moved through her, making her collapse into a quivering heap.
“You are so beautiful in your passion,” he said softly, finally breaking his silence. “How can you expect me to stand by and let harm come to that?”
With those words, he rolled out of bed, leaving her body behind, satiated, but her mind all the more clouded.
That afternoon, Tess called. Marco Rossi had boarded a plane to San Francisco in the morning.
CHAPTER 26
GIO
Never before had Gio cared about what others thought of him; apart from his family, that is. He knew his reputation and name in the cutthroat real estate world. Black Ice. No one had ever dared to call him that in his face, or even mention the nickname in his presence. Jocelyn’s remark had cut through him like a knife. Not because he was hurt by it, but because it was at that point he realized how much he hurt her by keeping her basically imprisoned.
Something had to give, and he feared that if he didn’t find a solution to their impasse, for the first time, that might be him.
So, what was a man to do, when his wife wouldn’t budge? You went talking to the people she grew up with, and was highly protective of, to gather information. With Carmen still out of the country, Mary seemed the next best choice.
Since Hector had some business in the shelter, he tagged along. As they walked inside, Gio was pleased to see there was a guard inside, and not surprised at all that it was a woman.
“I see Mary has already chosen a security guard.”
Hector grunted. “Already? She pestered me about it the second you promised her one. The woman is tenacious when she wants something.”
They met Mary in the canteen. She was holding a small child in her lap, feeding her a bottle.
“You said it was urgent,” she said, with a glance at Hector.
He told Mary about the letter. Obviously, she knew Mike. Mary’s face was like an open book. He doubted she even knew how to properly lie.
“He had a painting sent to her after his death?” Mary seemed impressed. “I can’t really say I’m surprised. They always had a special connection.”
He didn’t come here to hear about that special fucking connection. “Tell me who Jazzy is afraid of. She won’t tell me.”
“Oh, Jazzy won’t tell you anything,” Mary assured him, patting the baby on her lap. “She could out-stubborn an ox. You have no idea how often she went head-to-head with Grandfather, neither of them giving an inch.”
He’d figured as much, which is why he was here. “Give me his name.”
As if on cue, Hector stepped closer to Mary, boxing her in. It was like a real-life version of the Beast hovering over Beauty.
“That’s not goi
ng to work, you know,” she said, sending Hector an annoyed look. “Those scars and your huge exterior don’t scare me. I may not have seen much of the world yet, but I do know that what’s on the outside is only skin-deep.”
Maybe he hadn’t given Mary enough credit. She appeared all fragile and angelic, but the acid look she was giving Hector was anything but.
His friend was clearly taken aback by her stance as well. After a grunt, he relaxed, and took a step back.
Obviously, it was time for a different approach. “I can’t protect her if I don’t know who I need to protect her from.”
Mary visibly relaxed. “I… I can’t betray her trust like that. I’m sure she will tell you when, if ever, she’s ready to talk about it. You know, I wish she would. I tried to give her Dr. Stein’s number, but she wouldn’t take it.” She sighed and looked away for a moment. “I owe her my life, and it kills me that she carries a guilt she should not be carrying.”
Gio exchanged a look with his friend. He didn’t have to say it; they had a lead. All they had to do was find the doctor.
Hector handed him a copy of Mary’s patient file a short while later. There was a deadly scowl on his face as the big man paced in Gio’s office, while Gio went through the files.
What he read made him sick. It made him want to murder someone. It was going to end with bloody murder, probably preceded with a good torture session. Sadly, that had to wait. Marco Rossi hadn’t visited the States in over a decade. Only when his father ended up in a hospital, he had gained the courage to do so.
According to his sources, the fucker had flown into San Francisco this evening, only to take a flight back to Europe a few hours later. The only pit-stop he apparently made was at his father’s. Gio could only imagine what the old man had threatened him with.
“I’m going after him.”