Under the second sink, she found her own white basket full of her own lotions, sprays and perfumes. Lucia's hands shook as she pulled it out and set it on the vanity that was nestled in the corner between the two sinks. Next to it was a simple box with her shower supplies. Upon further investigation, Lucia found her cosmetics and toiletries arranged in drawers in the sink cabinet and the contents of the medicine cabinet from her bathroom in the medicine cabinet that was set into the wall behind a beautiful white-framed mirror.
She almost couldn't breathe when she pushed open the door to the closet. It was more like a long wide corridor, with shelves and hanging space along each side, and a large jewelry cabinet a room's length away before the room curved out of sight, clearly dividing the space. Danny's wardrobe was neatly hung and organized, his shoes in boxes in square cubbies obviously designed for just that purpose. Still, his belongings took up less than half the space he'd claimed.
Past his space and the jewelry cabinet, the room turned and –
Lucia stopped and gasped. The room was at least twice the size as she'd first expected, and an open door extended it even more. But the size was not what made her heart pound hard in her chest.
All of her clothes – all of her boots – all of her things were there, waiting for her in perfect organization. When she checked, the perfectly-aligned drawers below the hanging rods were filled with the contents of her dresser, from t-shirts and pajamas to her sexiest lingerie. Abruptly she turned to the next door, which led to a smaller storage room beneath the main stairs. Her luggage was there, stacked neatly beside what must have been Danny's black bags, as well as the bins of her summer clothes, which had been stored in the spare bedroom closet at her parents.
Suddenly steaming, Lucia whirled and dragged on the first bra and panty set she found, donned her gray crushed-velvet tunic and a pair of plain black leggings, and grabbed the snow boots she'd worn to the house. She'd left them by the front door and they were now neatly stowed with the others.
Someone had been organizing her belongings while Danny had been fucking her against the kitchen counter and convincing her he could compromise!
One way or another, she was going to take that ass down a peg or two.
By the time she stormed out of the bedroom and into the over-sized grand room that looked over the patio, the pool and to the greenhouse, her anger was well and fully blown.
Finding Jimmy and Rosalia Savaggio ensconced on a sofa waiting for her did not settle her temper at all.
Jimmy rose immediately, reaching out to greet her with a handshake. Rosalia was more enthusiastic, pulling her in for a stiff hug. "You must be starving," the woman said, raising a knowing brow. "Let's get you coffee and breakfast."
She took Lucia's arm and turned her toward the kitchen, leaving the mob boss to follow them. Quite before Lucia knew what was happening, she was seated at the kitchen bar, and Rosalia was pouring coffee from the machine percolating on the far counter.
"Danny has brought us up to date on your situation," Rosalia murmured, setting a plate of fresh cannoncini with Chantilly cream and sprinkled with powdered sugar in front of her.
"He called me at fucking five o'clock the morning," Jimmy groused, leaning against the opposite counter, a cup of coffee in his hands too. "It was still well before dawn, you know. That woke up Rosalia, and she got out of bed. I'd already been briefed last night, of course, so he could have left us to our own devices."
"He wanted us to come out and spend some time with you while he's tracking down these stronzi," Rosalia explained. "So I sent one of the guys for pastries and told Jimmy to man up. And here we are."
Jimmy smirked. "Not right away, of course. Danny felt sure you'd sleep for a few hours, so I spanked Rosalia first and got her off a few times. She likes that in the mornings."
Rosalia flushed, a bright color that darkened her cheeks and neck. She grabbed a kitchen towel, twisted it, and flung it at Jimmy. It hit him in the groin.
"You have to teach me how to do that," Lucia demanded, as Jimmy bent over and groaned. "Today, please."
"Will you be here tomorrow?" Rosalia asked. "Or next week? That's what I want to know. I mean, I'm happy to help teach you how to torment Danny if he's being a dick or a horn dog. And I'm especially excited to dig through the boxes of treasures Danny's father collected. I've already heard about them. I'm sure they are neatly stacked somewhere – Danny thought you might need help with that – but what I want to know is, will you be here this Christmas and next Christmas to enjoy them, or is this a temporary thing for you?"
Lucia felt her stomach clench. She opened her mouth to answer, but Jimmy beat her to it, crossing the kitchen and leaning over the bar directly across from her. "She's asking if you're gonna screw over my best friend, Lucia, or if this is a fucking hook up for you. 'Cause Danny's been sucker punched by you, and I want to find out if you're sticking around for him or not."
In that moment, Lucia knew why Jimmy Savaggio was the mob boss. She shivered.
"Danny didn't ask us to come out here to threaten you." Rosalia kissed her husband's cheek. "Jimmy, don't terrify her."
Lucia drew a deep breath. "I haven't even known Danny twenty-four hours," she said carefully. "I like him, you can tell we … well, even without seeing us together, you can tell we have chemistry, he seems to be a stand-up guy – at least toward me and my parents. But I'm not making a commitment to him yet. I'm not saying no, but I'm not saying yes either. I want to finish my education. Art is always going to be a big part of my life, and I have so much to learn. There isn't exactly a booming art restoration market in Oswego. He's ready to have babies and settle down. I haven't even taken a legal drink of alcohol yet, let alone spent my Saturday nights clubbing."
Jimmy scowled. "Club's no problem. We've got those and plenty of people to watch out for you."
Rosalia sighed. "Jimmy, stop acting dense." Turning to Lucia, Rosalia went on, "You're right about Oswego not being the center of – or even on the outskirts of – the art world. But I happen to know that Queen's University in Kingston is not actually that far, especially by boat over the lake, and it has one of the best art restoration programs in the world. You may already realize that Oswego Corp does not own any galleries or art-related storefronts, but that doesn't mean it can't. There's plenty of investment dollars to start you out, when you're ready. Jimmy will sign off on it, I personally guarantee it."
"I just have to tithe my profit to the local mob boss?" Lucia asked, raising a brow.
Jimmy snorted. "We'll work something out," he said dismissively. "If you're still with Danny, of course. If you're not, you probably shouldn't try to stay in town."
"Stop it, Jimmy," Rosalia said impertinently. "Or you won't be spanking me tomorrow morning." To Lucia, she said quietly, with an understanding that Lucia appreciated, "That's a hurdle you'll have to face. Jimmy thinks it's a benefit, but I believe you and I both know that there are risks. I know Jimmy wants you to commit. So do I. But I see what you are saying. Be sure before you agree, because once you do, Danny will steamroll over any objections to lock you down."
Lucia bit her lip, nodded. She already knew that about him.
"Any idea where these Christmas decorations are?" Rosalia asked.
The pastries and coffee had mellowed Lucia, at least temporarily. "I haven't looked yet, but I suspect they'll be easy to find. Danny seemed determined that I have something to keep me busy."
"That sounds like Danny," Jimmy groused. "Doesn't want you speculating on what he might actually be doing, or if he's in danger."
"Jimmy!" Rosalia gasped.
Lucia froze. Instead of standing from the bar stool, she reached out and grasped Jimmy's forearm, deliberately digging her nails into the man's suit jacket. "He's doing something dangerous?" she managed to ask.
Jimmy sighed, patted her hand with his free one, and admitted, "I don't really know what he was up to today, Lucia. Don't stress."
"Easy for you to say," she returned grum
pily, releasing him. "Your Rosalia is right here."
"Damn straight," the man answered, grinning.
FOUR
The sky was already dark when Danny and his driver pulled down the long drive. He sighed inwardly. He knew it was winter in upper New York and the sun set well before it was even evening by the standards of the rest of the world, but it felt like he'd been away from the house for well longer than the last fourteen hours. The house was dark, too, the inside lights extinguished except for a dim glow from the kitchen.
With any luck – or if the work he'd set in train to find and stop the threat to Lucia's parents stalled – he'd be able to spend the entire next day at home.
Logically, he knew Jimmy wouldn't have put up Christmas lights outside. Danny had made an appointment for one of the crews who did lighting and exterior electrical work to come out in two days and install Christmas lights along the roof and eaves, around the porch columns and window frames. But he had wondered if there would be a Christmas tree in the dining room with lights twinkling through the French doors that opened to the front porch. Neither Jimmy nor Rosalia had told him what they'd done during their hours with Lucia earlier in the day.
Danny tapped his Bluetooth headset. "Rapporto," he said, the word terser than he'd intended. He hadn't called for any earlier, knowing his foot soldiers would have contacted him immediately if there'd been any problem. And, of course, he'd checked the cameras that were focused on every door in the house any number of times during the day. Lucia hadn't even tried to step outside.
Below the barn, where most would have expected a damp cellar, he had built a fucking vault. It was the off-site emergency center they'd constructed to deal with incidents in the event of a catastrophe or a law enforcement event, as Jimmy had grimly described any potential invasion by local or federal authorities. Right now, the resources were focused on his own house. Four men patrolled the grounds, despite the freezing weather, and six more were in the control room with its secret entrance.
Danny's driver, a younger recruit named Christian, stopped at the point where the driveway separated to the garage or the barn. In his ear, Roberto responded almost within a second. "Nessun problema. Nessun visitatore dopo il signor."
No visitors after Jimmy. Good. "Buona. Continua a guadare."
The increased security would probably be overkill for most of the time, Danny thought. Once the crisis with Lucia's parents was solved, he'd have to reconsider. She would still need to be protected of course, but perhaps he'd cut it back to one guard on patrol, two in the vault and one in the greenhouse or on the porch. There was no reason to stifle her.
He jumped out and headed into the house, letting Christian take the SUV down to the barn. The vault was actually a two-story basement with a bunkroom, living room and kitchen on the first level and the communications center, small gym, armory, and stockroom of supplies on the lower level. Christian would spend the night there and return for Danny in the morning when Danny texted.
He went in through the small side porch near the garage, locking the door after him and arming the security system. Danny had plans for Lucia, and they didn't involve interruption.
She wasn't in the kitchen. It wasn't late, but Danny guessed she hadn't cooked. The lights were out except for the single fixture above the sink. He checked the oven, the microwave, the refrigerator and the dishwasher, where he found she had probably fed herself dinner. Nothing for him, though.
That didn't seem right. Danny frowned. He walked through the house, checking the multiple doors that led outside to the four porches and the patio. Before tonight, he'd loved the multiple entrances and exits – thirteen of them – from the ground floor. Most of the year, the multiple doors meant easy access to the outdoors and fresh air indoors. Tonight, he reconsidered all the ways an intruder or a pack of intruders could enter the residence.
The thirteenth door led from the master bedroom onto the rear patio. He saved it for last. Jimmy, Rosalia and Lucia had done an amazing job of decorating. Even in the dark, he could see the tall tree in the corner of the grand room, the fireplaces with their mantels draped in evergreen. All the wooden carvings his father had lovingly made over the years were on display and the tree was trimmed with the hand-blown glass ornaments that both father and son had lovingly collected. Danny remembered his mother letting him handle the few treasures when he was but a small boy. After her death, they'd continued to add to her collection each Christmas.
Everything was there, but subtly different. Lucia's sense of artistry and her lack of history with the house meant that everything was organized differently.
Danny liked it.
Despite the lack of a late meal, a deep sense of satisfaction welled in him. He'd just check on Lucia, make sure she was asleep and check the last door, then have a sandwich before he climbed into bed with her.
Except, she wasn't in his bed. She wasn't anywhere in the master bedroom. Or the bathroom. His stomach tight with frustration and a growing sense of uneasy fear, he slammed open the dressing door and strode through, only to find that she wasn't there either.
Nor were her clothes – none of them. Her suitcases were gone. Her boots were gone. The drawers were empty. Even the damn laundry hamper with her clothes from the previous day was empty.
Anger gripped him. The unease in his stomach turned into a solid fist of iron that made him want to vomit. Roberto had said she hadn't left, so where was she? No way could ten men have missed her and her things all leaving. Could they?
If she was still in the house, she had to be upstairs.
The thought pissed him off more, because that meant she was rejecting him.
Danny didn't bother to go quietly up the stairs. He stomped.
He found Lucia in the largest guestroom, the one that overlooked the front of the house. She was asleep, or pretending to be. Draped in the pristine white sheets of the four-poster king-size bed, her hair fanned out over the pillow, she looked to be exhausted.
As well she should be. She'd clearly done a full day's work in the house, and then moved all her belongings. He didn't give a damn. If he woke her carrying her downstairs, then she'd have to go back to sleep in his arms. If she wasn't exhausted already, he'd happily make sure she was too fucking tired to move.
He jerked back the covers tucked up around her and stared.
The woman was kiss-ass naked from her thighs upward. Her legs, however, were clad in the boots he'd picked out from the collection in her closet as the ones he wanted her wearing as he fucked her from behind, bent over the end of his bed. The hot pink thigh-high leather extended from the four-inch stiletto heels to mid-thigh. They clung to her skin, extending a full three inches above her knees. Black fishnet stockings peeked out three additional inches up her thighs, held up by a lacy black garter belt. She was asleep on her stomach, the boots turned to the side, one leg slightly bent so that the curve of her ass was a fucking advertisement for his hand and cock.
Danny heard the noise that came out of his throat, but he'd never made it before. He couldn't even identify it. The fog of anger in his brain clarified into a single laser-targeted point. She'd put him through this hell on earth intentionally, hiding up here and fully expecting him to hunt her.
To find her like this.
Before he had even contemplated his own future, he went down on one knee on the bed and smacked his hand – hard – on that gorgeous backside.
Her reaction confirmed his supposition. The damned girl wasn't even asleep. She gasped, her eyes flying open. She started to roll over.
Danny wasn't having that. He pressed his left hand into her back and held her down, raining another hand down hard on her rear. He couldn't help it, adding third smack before he growled, "You pull a shit stunt like this again and I swear on my father's grave your ass will be as pink as these boots. Capisci?"
"Danny –"
He stopped her with another smack. "I'm going to spank you once for every fucking minute it takes you to get to my bed and be
nd over the end, bottom up. Starting now."
"Danny!"
Danny tapped his watch and kept his eyes on her ass.
"You ignored me all day and now you expect to come here in the middle of the night and pick up where we left off at four in the morning? What kind of douchebag are you?" she suddenly raged, sitting up and banging her fist on the center of his chest.
He startled backward, but caught himself, catching that fist and holding it for a moment. "I'm letting you go so that you can get down the stairs safely," he drawled. "Don't run, I do not want you broken at the bottom of the stairs, florhinza."
"You ass." Lucia ignored his threats altogether, obviously not intimidated by his size or his demeanor. "You ignore me all fucking day, don't bother with even a single pathetic text message to let me know how you or my parents are faring, let alone a telephone call, don't communicate about when or if I will see you again, and now you're threatening me with bodily harm? Fuck that. Get out."
Danny's brows rose. "Spanking is not bodily harm." He glanced at his watch. "Three minutes."
"Out!" she demanded.
"We'll talk after your spanking," Danny temporized. And after he fucked her. The raging erection that was currently making his jeans excessively uncomfortable had to be dealt with before he could be rational. "Four minutes."
Lucia stood up from the bed and poked him in the chest. "You. Do. Not. Get. To. Make. All. The. Decisions." She jabbed him with each word. "Moving me in here – belongings and all, without even asking. Sending over your boss and his wife to keep me distracted, so I don't have time to think or interfere in whatever you did today. Giving me a freaking art project without warning me that your father was a master at carving, so that I almost cried every time I unwrapped one of those treasures. Not letting me know when or if to expect you, or what was happening with my parents."
The Don's Enforcer Page 4