The Don's Rose Page 4

  She had no idea how much time had passed before she stirred. She had a watch to tell the time, but it was across the room. Without a window, she had no idea how high the sun had risen.

  "Jimmy," she whispered.

  "Mia rosa," he sighed, holding her close.

  "You didn't use a condom."

  "Damn straight," he agreed.

  "I haven't taken my birth control pills since you came for me," she went on.

  "And you won't be getting them back," he returned, grim determination in his voice.

  She stiffened but he didn’t respond by tightening even a muscle. In fact, his cock was still inside her and it hardened noticeably at whatever he was thinking – at thinking of her unprotected and possibly fertile womb.

  "Jimmy," she tried hesitantly. He didn't interrupt, so she added cautiously, "I'm still married to Ricardo."

  He snorted. "No, you're not. And if I thought there was a chance in hell of you agreeing, I'd have a priest down here right now, binding you to me for every fucking day of the rest of our lives."

  That took her a minute. He'd just told her that Ricardo was dead, hadn't he? Rosalia bit her lip, trying to decide how she felt about that. Guilty because she was relieved and a bit overjoyed by the moment when she'd honestly thought he'd gotten exactly what he deserved. What sort of person was she if she was glad a man, even the evil one who had tormented her, was dead?

  Her morals were something to think about, Rosalia finally decided, when she was alone.

  "I can't stay in this room for four weeks, Jimmy. I'll turn into a raving mad lunatic, even if you come in every day to visit. I need something to do."

  "You can think about fucking me. And I'll get more books for you. Tomorrow, a television with satellite. Three hundred channels with nothing you want to watch."

  Rosalia knew she should be indignant, frustrated, perhaps even having a tantrum. But he'd exhausted her, he was warm against her, and his hands soothed her. She felt safe in his grasp, and it was heaven. "If I'm to be locked up in a prison by you, too, at least the sex is good," she grumbled with a yawn.

  "Sleep now, mia rosa. We'll work it out later."

  That sounded like a splendid plan. Rosalia closed her eyes and slept.

  Jimmy was gone when she woke. "Coward," she said to the empty room, but it didn't answer. On the bureau, he'd at least left a note, letting her know he'd be back that evening. She sniffed, checked the time and found it was mid-afternoon.

  In the box he'd brought, she found her passport, her driver license, her wallet and the checkbook for the account she'd shared with Ricardo. Her name was on it, even though Ricardo had never let her write a single check. But she knew where the bank was, if only she had transportation to get there.

  It was December in upper New York, hardly the time to go traipsing along the road toward town, praying no one from the family saw or recognized her.

  She was still stuck in this room, damn it. But she was going to find a way out, one way or another.

  FIVE

  Jimmy hadn't made it to the office until two o'clock, shocking every one of his staff, except Margot. She smiled at him serenely and let him know she'd canceled his appointments for the day, then handed him a shopping bag.

  "How did you –"

  "It only set you back six grand, boss. This one's the mid-range Delvaux. The high-end ones are thirty-nine big ones this season, and I couldn't decide what color, so decided to hold off on that until you need to apologize for some asshole stupidity you're bound to wind up doing. All straight men do."

  Jimmy groaned, took the bag, and went into his office and shut the door. He knew Margot was right. It was only a matter of time. He buzzed her on the intercom. "Margot?"

  "Sir?"

  "Do we own any decent jewelry store? She doesn't have a goddamned earring to her name now, and that won't fly for long. I want her draped in rubies and diamonds for Christmas."

  "There's one in Syracuse, sir, under the corporation's umbrella. She'd look good in emeralds as well. Platinum settings."

  "Yes, but diamonds for Christmas, as well as a special dress and shoes. Red. I'll have Mama over to meet her. Take care of it, Margot. Make sure there's a selection in the vault, because you know I will screw this up."

  "Right away, sir."

  It took him until half-past five to clean off the unavoidable items on his desk. At that point, Danny came in. "Boss, want to take a walk?" he asked.

  That was a code phrase for discussing family business. They didn't in Jimmy's office, assuming that it would be wired if law enforcement could manage a way to do it.

  Outside it was below zero. Hardly the temperature for a leisurely walk, or even a walk to the local bar at the corner where his employees and crews loitered and communed. But Jimmy didn't complain.

  "He kept her a goddamned prisoner, you know," Jimmy said, hands deep in his coat pockets so no one could see his fists were clenched. He'd taken perverse delight in beating Ricardo, bound and terrified, with that same belt as he hung from his own basement ceiling.

  It was Danny who had stepped in and ended the violence, with the simple message that Rosalia had been coming out of sedation. He'd stayed to witness Ricardo's last minutes of life, though. Danny had done the honors, slitting Ricardo's throat and letting him bleed out onto the floor. Jimmy supposed he was a sick bastard, but there hadn't been the backlash from the mafiosos or the capos as he suspected. Jack and Lanz, at least, had identified Ricardo Dinapoli as a wife-beater. That simple fact had negated any backlash from his crews. A man who beat a helpless woman didn't deserve even an honorable death.

  They didn't know yet that Dinapoli's victim would be the mother of Jimmy's children, though. Not yet.

  "Not that I can blame him, at least not for locking her up. I can see the temptation – to keep her confined. I'm not especially looking forward to having others look at her, even if it is to look after her."

  "You've always been a possessive man, Jimmy. If she's the one, it's not a surprise that your natural tendencies are exacerbated by her," Danny commented, lighting up a cigar.

  Jimmy didn't indulge, but he understood the desire for something comfortable and warm. He liked the lake climate, but he knew many of his people wished that he'd carved out a business in Florida instead of upper New York. "She'll have to have twenty-four hour guards and a driver when she wants out without me. Can you identify a crew for that duty by the New Year?"

  "Already picking them. I figure Jack or Lanz to be in charge, and Frankie to move up, given their roles in rescuing her. I might take one off your personal guards, too. Have a preference for a capo?"

  "Jack," Jimmy answered thoughtfully. All of the men present had come through Rosalia's rescue with hero status, as far as Jimmy was concerned. If they hadn't already been made, this would have been their ticket. But Jack had gone to the trouble of considering Rosalia's modesty, covering her with a sheet and turning his back without being told when Jimmy arrived.

  "I'll talk to him. The clean-up is finished, and our former employee has found a new residence in the Thousand Islands. I understand he finds his retirement exceedingly quiet already, and has decided his future is in feeding the fish."

  Jimmy half-snorted. He'd made his first money smuggling goods and sometimes people across the lake to Canada, and he still had crews of fishermen, tour boat companies and marinas along the southeastern shore.

  "According to the corporate human resources officer, Ricardo Dinapoli is still on vacation," Danny went on mildly. "I left a message on his house phone this morning, asking him to call when he returns to town."

  "What's up with him?" Jimmy asked idly, raising a brow.

  "Fuck if I know," Danny groused. "I understand he decided to go now during the holidays because his house needed some electrical work. Bad wiring, he said. But it was shitty timing for us, too. Max wants him at the office to answer some questions arising from last year's audit."

  "I see. Well, I hope the electricians have don
e their job and he isn't found to have embezzled anything from me," Jimmy agreed. With Ricardo's body removed and permanently in pieces at the bottom of the St. Lawrence River, the electricians had been in 'fixing bad wiring' at his house. They had wired the house for a slow burn from the inside out, and now with Jimmy's approval, would ignite the blaze that night.

  Business concluded, Jimmy returned to his office and read two more reports on the prospect of acquiring another tattoo shop and another waterside pub in Cape Vincent. He wondered if he should consider expanding on the Canadian side of the border. Toronto was too far, but a little insurance in Kingston might not be out of place. There was no need to coerce anyone into selling; he could put his offer out without any additional pressure and see if any came willingly.

  It was seven before he left the office for home, in the back of a big SUV with Lanz driving. "Has Danny talked to you?" he asked from the back seat.

  "Yes, sir," the man answered. "I agreed to be her driver, assuming it's what you wanted. I'll be staying on the property tonight and we'll have Jack and Frankie out to the house tomorrow to organize, and work out how big of a crew will be required."

  "I want a permanent rotation in place before Christmas, Lanz, but I trust you in the driver's seat more than anyone else," Jimmy said directly. "The three of you might manage for now, given the circumstances, but – what the hell?"

  Lanz was already braking hard. A long white Land Rover limousine was sitting in front of the closed gate to Jimmy's driveway, obviously waiting. It was just as apparent that his security inside the house was not opening the steel-reinforced iron barrier that kept out unwanted visitors.

  "Sir, for your safety, I don't want to block them in or be an easy target. We should drive on. The chaser car can find out what's happening and let us know when it's safe."

  In his pocket, Jimmy's phone vibrated. So few people had the number – only his personal security and Signor and Signora Lombardi, who kept house for him, Margot, Dan, Max, Mario and his mother – that he immediately retrieved it and answered. The number was his house phone, anyway.

  "Tell them to open the front gate, Jimmy," Rosalia demanded. He knew it was her immediately. He doubted anyone else would talk to him with such a tone.

  "Mia rosa, what are you –"

  "Tell them to open the front gate, Jimmy," she repeated, her voice softer, a bit of pleading in it.

  He softened, his voice gentle and coaxing. "Tell me who has come to visit, mia rosa."

  She sighed. "I told you that you can't keep me locked up for a month."

  "Rosalia," he warned. "You are going to earn yourself a spanking."

  "The visitors are my cousins. Nonno and Nonna told them about the Dinapolis and your security showing up to protect them. I called Nonna in Palermo a few hours ago when I broke out of prison, and afterward she called them and here they are."

  Jimmy sighed. He really was going to spank her, as soon as they were alone.

  "I will see you shortly, mia rosa, and you had better prepare yourself." He disconnected, ignoring Lanz's attempt to hide a smirk. "Lanz, open the gate. Rosalia says the visitors are her cousins."

  The man's hand went to the remote immediately, but he still frowned at the limousine. The gate slid open and Lanz turned the SUV to follow them. "Boss, you see that?" he asked.

  Jimmy jerked himself out of a vision of Rosalia bent over the end of his bed, her ass bare and pink from his hand. Lanz pointed at the plate and Jimmy frowned, but they were already pulling to a stop in the circle drive. The limousine positioned itself as close to the front entry as possible, making it impossible for Lanz to pull into the garage where he usually parked. Jimmy jumped out where he was and frowned, moving to the front porch.

  His Rosalia was already almost smothered by a crowd of six men. Jimmy's fingers slipped into his pocket, fingering the holster. Forgetting his reasonableness, he roared. "Hands off her," he shouted, shoving into the crowd before thinking.

  Rosalia only laughed merrily, her arms sliding around him. He nearly collapsed in relief, pulling her close and away from the others. He drew her deeper into the foyer, surprised when none of his men backed him up. Where were they? "Rosalia, what have you been up to?" he asked suspiciously.

  "Jimmy, let me introduce you to my cousins," she said patiently. "As soon as Nonna finished speaking to them this afternoon and they knew where I was, they started up here. I called them from your house phone, of course, but they were already on the way. They weren't in America this summer, or I'm sure you wouldn't have had to rescue me from Ricardo at all. They only came back after the wedding, and Ricardo refused to let me see them."

  "He was a first-class bastard," Jimmy agreed, pushing her slightly behind him and examining the opposition a bit more closely. For some reason, they were all dressed in Armani suits, except one who –

  From behind him, Rosalia hurried, gesturing past him with each name. "Monsignor Julio Martelluci, Benito Martelluci, Gio Amato, Gregori Amato, Frederico Amato, and Paolo Ferrari." The flood of names almost made Jimmy lose his lunch. The fucking diplomatic license plate on the limousine now made complete sense. He greeted them politely, taking note of how Benito and Paolo appeared to be the muscle for the Amato brothers. They were clearly armed.

  "Rosalia, why don't we take our guests into the family room?" Jimmy asked, turning her. He desperately wanted to ask where Jack and Frankie were. They were supposed to be guarding her.

  The answer was apparent, at least once he turned his back on his guests. The position made him uncomfortable but he put Rosalia in front of him, so she would be shielded if any of the six decided he was dispensable. Jack and Frankie were behind him. They withdrew into the shadows as the group moved into the large family room, but Jimmy noted Paolo and Benito's strategic positioning, where they could see everyone else in the room.

  It was the fucking priest who smiled at Jimmy when Rosalia announced she was getting wine for everyone. He asked about Jimmy's company. They'd done at least some homework between New York and Oswego. Jimmy explained it was a holding corporation for a number of smaller businesses he owned: restaurants, dry cleaners, laundromats, flower shops, housecleaners, bars, fishing and boat tours, marinas, parking lots. As he talked, Jimmy's sense of uneasiness grew. These ventures sounded low-class, as if he earned his money off taking money from the poor. Who the hell needed a laundromat except the poverty-stricken? Jimmy wondered if they wished he was a fucking doctor, or a damned lawyer. He wondered if she'd told them Ricardo was dead, or if they thought she was shacking up with a mobster while married to another one. Hell, he just wanted to know what in the blazes was going on.

  Rosalia handed out glasses of red wine and he swirled it a bit, sniffing. She'd explored enough to find the wine cellar, and knew enough to pick one of the more expensive vintages. At least it wasn't one of the collectibles.

  One of the Amatos asked him jokingly if he could get them onto a private fishing expedition. Jimmy assured him he could, then stiffened when the doorbell rang.

  Jack moved to intercept, meeting up with Signor Lombardi in the foyer. At this rate, Jimmy was going to need a bigger family room. He stood automatically when he heard the voice in the hall. "Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen, it appears my mother is here."

  They all grinned at him, but Jack wasn't amused. His mother was accompanied by Margot and Lucia and several large boxes and packages that she said were for Rosalia. Jimmy watched helplessly as his mother drew Rosalia into her arms and kissed both of her cheeks, then swept into the large family room and greeted all of Rosalia's visitors. Quite before he understood how it had happened, dinner arrived already prepared in the company of his crews that ran several of the waterfront restaurants. He heard Rosalia tell a cousin that it was too short of notice to expect Signora Lombardi to cook for so many, although both Lombardis were assisting with serving and cleaning up.

  "If you'll excuse us ladies," his mama announced after dessert was finished, "We're taking Rosalia downstairs for
a bit. Margot, Lucia and I want her to check those packages we brought."

  Jimmy hadn't even gotten to sit beside her at dinner. His mother had claimed the foot of the long dining table and he had naturally taken the seat at the head. Julio had sat beside him and Margot on the other side. Rosalia had ended up next to his mother at the opposite end, and they chatted cheerfully the entire meal.

  How could he refuse his mother? He narrowed his eyes at her, but she smiled with maternal satisfaction and took Rosalia's arm.

  Signor Lombardi brought in a tray of port and brandy as the women departed. The men passed it around, and finally Gio – who Jimmy had finally concluded was the leader of this predatory pack of wolves – spoke. "Jimmy, why don't we take a ride in my car? I like to think it is secure. I promise not to leave you stranded in the snow, as long as your plans for Rosalia's future are acceptable to her family, of course."

  Jimmy knew what he was saying. No one had mentioned Ricardo's name. These men were as conscious of bugging issues as he was. "Of course. I presume Lanz can come along and sit with your driver?" he asked.

  Gio nodded. "We'll be back before the women are done with their fussing," he promised.

  Nothing else was said as the men donned coats over their suit jackets. In fact, they were quiet until the car began moving down the drive. Gio held up a hand and Benito pulled out a device, passing it around the backseat. "Your State Department and intelligence agencies are always interested in what we have to say in private," he said, pulling out his phone, turning it off and powering it down. "But according to this gem of electronics, there is no one broadcasting a signal from the backseat of the car. Your guard's cell signal is still working from the front seat." The others followed suit, leaving their phones out on the seat, and Jimmy obliged as well. He knew they were making a show of faith, and that they wouldn't want any evidence of accessory to murder left behind.

  "He is dead, isn't he?" Julio asked blandly.