“My mom’s jewelry,” Jimmy replied immediately. Cold quirked a brow at that so he clarified, “Maybe I don’t need it exactly, but... I want it here. And there’s a shoebox under my bed? Full of pictures. That, too. Please.”
“Done.”
“It’s that ring, isn’t it? They were looking for the ring. Vincenzo saw me wearing it at the club. He asked me about it... before, you know, before he tried to shoot me.”
Cold’s face hardened. “What of it?”
“You said you’d tell me,” Jimmy reminded him, pouting. He trusted Cold, he did, but he had to know what was going on.
Cold said nothing.
Jimmy reached up, resting his hand on Cold’s cheek, trying to make him look back at him. “Rod?”
Cold’s eyes flickered back when Jimmy said his name, grabbing his wrist and deftly pinning it above his head.
Jimmy gasped, surprised by the spike of lust that rushed through him. He bit his lip, gazing hungrily up at Cold.
Shifting his body on top of Jimmy’s, Cold was mindful of his injured arm as he held him firmly. “I seem to recall telling you that I would explain everything when it was the right time,” he drawled. “That time is not now.”
Jimmy wiggled beneath him, scrunching up his nose as he protested, “I deserve to know. If this really has something to do with my mother, please. Tell me.”
Cold pursed his lips in that gorgeously sexy pout he wore so well, thoughtful and calculating, as he scanned over Jimmy’s body. The borrowed clothing was too big, shapeless, but Cold didn’t seem to mind.
He gazed over Jimmy ravenously as if he were wearing soft silks and exotic leathers instead of baggy sweats. Scooting down onto his elbows, he kept Jimmy pinned while pushing the loose fabric up his stomach. His long fingers carefully traced the lines of Jimmy’s lean hips, moving up to feather along his navel.
Jimmy sucked in a sharp breath, amazed at how so few touches could leave him absolutely starving for more. He wanted to touch, too, but he knew better than to try. He was patient, keeping his hands firmly against the mattress where Cold wanted them.
He let Cold continue to pet and tease him, praying silently that he would give him an answer. Something. Anything.
“That ring belonged to Don Luchesi,” Cold replied at long last, his tongue running slowly over his top teeth. “Rafaello Luchesi.”
RL. Rafaello Luchesi. Holy crap baskets.
“The don who was murdered?” Jimmy exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you sure? I mean... how, how did it end up in my mom’s jewelry box?”
“I am positive,” Cold replied. “I spent years kissing that ring. I am quite familiar with it. As to how your mother came into possession of it... that I cannot say.”
“Can’t because you don’t know, or can’t because you’re not telling me?”
“Both,” Cold answered smugly, his nimble fingers lightly pinching Jimmy’s nipple.
Jimmy whined, his body focusing its circulatory attention down between his legs. He tried to stay on track, demanding, “Why would the Luchesis be willing to kill me over a stupid ring?”
“The don had always planned to pass that ring on to his heir,” Cold explained, moving his fingers to Jimmy’s other nipple. “When he was murdered, it was stolen; probably by whoever killed him. They searched for it for years, never found it.”
“That’s why they’re trying to start a war?” Jimmy groaned. “Over a ring?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Cold said, shaking his head sternly. “The war was already brewing long before the Luchesis knew about the ring. I am keeping it safe, and I will do everything I can to prevent bloodshed, I promise you. It’s bad for business, after all.”
“So who really killed the don?” Jimmy gasped, Cold’s fingers twisting until it made him squeal.
“Mmmm, most people seem to think it was me,” Cold teased with a wicked smile.
“But then wouldn’t you have had the ring already?” Jimmy argued, yelping at another hard pull.
“Trust that I am looking into it,” Cold soothed, his fingers resuming their delicate torture of Jimmy’s nipples. “I believe your mother’s murder and the don’s may be connected.”
“Really?” Jimmy whined, groaning as Cold pinched him harder.
