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She faces me defiantly. "You didn't care about stripping me bare in front of that doctor." Her tone is scathing when she says the worddoctor.
"I did not strip you." I knew I should have gone with a female specialist, but my father had been adamant that Dr. Hewitt was the best.
The more the men look to me for leadership, the more my father seeks to show assert his authority inmylife, not justla famiglia's. I thought going with his suggestion for the specialist was an easy give.
Clearly, I was wrong because my beautiful wife is upset.
"Didn't you?" she taunts.
Giulia is not being literal. Damn it. There's no winning when her words mean something different than what she says.
I try anyway. "You believe me sending you to a specialist took something from you?"
"Ding. Ding. Ding. Give that man a prize." Her small hands are curled into fists at her sides and there's not one relaxed muscle in her body. "You should never havesentme to him. You are my husband, not my parent. And regardless, I am no longer a child."
Telling her thatmyfather insisted she seek fertility treatment is more likely to fan the flames of my wife's anger than douse them. Even if he is her don.
We both know that I could have refused. I didn't. Assuming she was probably as concerned as I was by the fact she hadn't gotten pregnant again since Neri's birth, I went along with my father's suggestion.
A miscalculation on my part.
Giulia believes my father is overbearing and too involved in our marriage. I'll do no favors reminding her he is only as involved as I allow him to be.
Her father was a don in the Five Families and a very different man than mine. His death five years ago has nearly canonized Enzo De Luca in my wife's mind.
"I went first," I tell her.
She stares at me. "What do you mean?"
"I saw Dr. Hewitt first." If the problem had been with me, then my wife would not have had to undergo any tests.
"To talk about me?"
"To discuss potential reasons for the lack a pregnancy since Neri when Ithoughtwe weren't using birth control."
Not looking even a little guilty by that reminder, she just narrows her rich chocolate gaze.
"He tested my sperm count."
"You gave him a sample of your semen?" she asks. "How?"
"I jacked off into a cup. Does it matter?"
"No. I suppose not. Only, I find that really hard to picture."
"Maybe we should rectify that." Not that I will use a cup, but the idea of having her eyes hot and needy on me while I jack myself has my already hard cock twitching.
Her temper trips my switch every damn time.
"Sex doesn't solve everything." Her ire deflates, leaving behind a sadness I do not understand. "You can get back to your meeting. I won't interrupt you again."
Why do I hearever…for anythingechoing around us?
"Neither does barging into my office and stripping in front of my men. We both have our ways of coping."
"Fuck you, Raffaele." Just that fast, she's pissed again. She skirts around me and grabs the door, but it doesn't open. "Let me out."
"No."
