Texas-Sized Scandal

Hell, he wasn’t even sure that Nonna was going to approve of him and Melinda. And of all the people on the planet, she was the one who loved him the most and always thought he deserved the best.

He pushed the doorbell and heard Pixie barking in the condo, but there was no answer. He waited for a few minutes and then punched the doorbell again.

Pixie didn’t bark this time, which made him suspect that Melinda was in there and didn’t want to talk to him. He knocked on her door one last time. “It’s me. Slade. Let me in, so we can sort this out.”

He waited, not sure if she would open the door for him, and another minute passed before she finally did and he saw her standing there. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a high ponytail—the kind she favored—that accentuated her heart-shaped face. Her blue eyes were troubled, and she’d chewed off all the lipstick he was sure she’d put on that morning. She had on her workout gear, which showed off her athletic physique. Her skin appeared pale and she didn’t smile when she saw him, which set warning bells off in his mind.

Melinda smiled at everyone. Everyone. The bellhop who opened her door, the barista who made her coffee, the doorman. She was one of the friendliest people he’d ever met. Now, though, she didn’t step back to invite him inside.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He had no idea how to fix this. To be honest, he knew that she had liked their low-key relationship but this reaction... Was she embarrassed by him?

“I’ve had better days, but yes, I’m fine,” she said, clearly lying to him as she had one arm wrapped around her stomach as if she were trying to hold herself together.

“I don’t know how the media were alerted to our presence at the opera last night. I know my people didn’t say anything,” he said. “I’ve got a call into the police department to get rid of the paparazzi who are hanging out downstairs. We’ll get on top of this and get it sorted out.”

“Will we?” she asked. “Why?”

“Why? I thought we liked hanging out together,” he said. “Isn’t that reason enough? Why don’t you let me come in and we can talk about it?”

She shook her head. “If you come in, we will probably do more than talk and I need to be clearheaded about this, Slade.”

He smiled at the way she said it. “You are being clearheaded. I promise to be on my best behavior.”

Melinda’s building was sleek and modern, a tall high-rise made of glass and steel, but her condo was much like the woman herself, warm and welcoming. The entryway had an antique hall tree, on which she always kept a vase with fresh-cut flowers in it. Moving into the main open living space, he noted the two large couches as well as two armchairs, all in cordovan leather that he knew from experience were buttery soft and the most comfortable chairs he’d ever sat in.

Her coffee table was made of reclaimed wood, where she kept art books on her latest obsession. Right now, he knew she was researching Dalí for an exhibit the art council wanted to bring to Houston. But she also had a few magazines that she kept tucked in a basket on the lower shelf of the table. She’d even started storing the business magazines he liked to read there.

Her kitchen was demarked by a tall countertop with high-back stools. The cushions matched the colors of the large Cruz Ortiz painting that hung above her fireplace. The colors of the Ortiz painting were bright and reflected, in Melinda’s words, the vibrancy of Texas.

She stood there between the living room and the kitchen, watching him with her eyes wide and troubled. He had done this to her. It hadn’t been his intent, but he was bringing scandal to her door the way her father and her sister had. Something he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do.

“I like it when you’re at your best,” she said, then shook her head. “See? No. You can’t come in. I’m not me when you’re around.”

He didn’t like the way she said that. As if he were a bad influence on her. “I think you’re more yourself with me than you’ve ever been before.”

Two

Melinda wished she’d left the door closed, but manners had forced her to open it and now the plan she’d hatched to break up with Slade and get back to her normal life wasn’t going to be easy at all. He stood there, looking so hot, his square jaw with a little bit of stubble, his thick black hair curled a little on the top and his lips firm. And oh, her stars, she really wanted nothing more than to blurt out everything that had happened since Angela had left that morning. But she hadn’t yet decided what she was going to do about anything.

“I’m actually glad you stopped by,” she said. “Can I get you something to drink? Maybe some sweet tea or lemonade?”

“I’m fine. I’m more concerned that you haven’t returned my texts or calls. What’s up?”

“Oh, well, are you sure you don’t want something to drink? Even water?” she asked. She was stalling and though she normally prided herself on being brave and facing difficult situations, she was going to give herself a pass today. She really had more than one woman should have to deal with. An image of the seven—SEVEN—pregnancy tests she’d taken lined up on her bathroom counter flashed into her mind.

“I’m positive,” he said. “What’s going on, babe? I know you don’t like the media spotlight, but it was one kiss and, honestly, the photo isn’t that bad. Are you concerned that you might be linked to the rumors about your father? I know I’m probably the last man you want by your side while murder rumors are swirling.”

The murder victim had been found at the Texas Cattleman’s Club newest site in Houston, at her father’s Perry Construction site, and the victim was Vincent Hamm, a Perry Holdings employee, and her father was on the short list of suspects.

She shrugged, searching for the words. She couldn’t just blurt out that she liked to rise above scandal. That she expected more of herself and her family or that she didn’t like for anyone to see her looking so...well, totally enthralled by him. Slade gave off that aura of danger and that was part of what drew her to him, but the truth was she didn’t want the world—rather, her world, the Houston society circle she traveled in—to see that embrace and judge her.

“It’s a lot of things. Frankly, I think we both know we aren’t right for each other,” she said. “I figured I was a novelty for you, and you’d get bored and break up with me before this.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not bored. Are you?” he asked. His tone was almost belligerent, but she could sense the vulnerability beneath it.

She’d learned that being Carlo Bartelli’s son brought with it a lot of expectation of the kind of man Slade was. And he spent a lot of his time pretending not to be upset by being prejudged by his last name.

She chewed her lower lip before she realized what she was doing. She’d never be bored with Slade. He was exciting and everything that she’d always dreamed of finding in a man. But dreams weren’t reality and she knew that better than most. She’d always wanted a picture-perfect family and hers was far from that.

“No, I’m not bored, but we really aren’t cut out to be a couple. I mean, when I saw that photo I blushed remembering everything that followed. But you... What did you do?”

He came closer to her and she stepped back, which made him pause. She wasn’t normally someone who backed down from anything, but honestly, she wasn’t prepared to be in the middle of this kind of mess. It was one thing to stand on the sidelines and offer advice to Angela or sympathy to her father, but to have the papers talking about her? That wasn’t in her plan. But heck, when had anything gone according to plan since Slade had come into her life?

“Are you afraid of me?”

“No, never,” she admitted. “It’s me. I have no self-control around you, Slade.”

“From my point of view, that’s a good thing,” he said with that wicked smile of his that made her remember all the reasons why she’d kissed him at the opera the night before.

She felt the blush creeping up her neck and cheeks and shook her head. She wished she could stop doing that, but she’d never been able to control it. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. The reason why we need to break up. I mean, is that too high school for us?”

“No,” he said.

“No?” Which part was he saying no to? Did he think they should stop seeing each other? Or that the term breakup wasn’t too high school? Why did she do that? She always asked complex questions because her mind was constantly running with a million thoughts.

“Both. We aren’t breaking up and it’s not too immature to say it. I’m not going to let one picture taken by some intruding paparazzo intrude on us.”

She loved the way he sounded. So in control of his life and never letting the outside dictate who they were. But at the same time, she knew that it wasn’t that simple. At the end of the day, rumors still abounded about him being a mobster, even though he had reassured her he wasn’t part of his father’s illegal operations.

And now there was an even bigger reason she needed to walk away from Slade. She was pregnant. All those home test kits had proven her suspicions.

From now on, she had to make all of her choices based on that. Before, it was okay for her to pretend that Slade was going to turn out to be one of the white knights she read about in her books. But real life told her that a man who lived as large as he did would never be happy with her quiet life.

She knew that.

She had to remember that.

She couldn’t be tempted by the way he offered her everything she’d ever wanted.

She had to think of her baby.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. “You’re looking at me with both longing and fear, and I’m not sure what to make of that.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m thinking that as exciting as it is dating you, I know that there is no future in this. I think we should stop seeing each other.”

“No.”

She shook her head, not sure she’d heard him properly. She smiled and tried again. “I mean you and I really are two different types of people and it makes more sense for us to stop going out.”

“No,” he said again.

She took another deep breath. Sometimes people didn’t take her seriously because she was soft-spoken and polite, and they took her ladylike manners and modest dress to mean she was a pushover. But Slade should know better. The fact that he didn’t just cemented in her mind that they definitely weren’t meant to be.

And he was making her lose her temper.

“You can say no as much as you want, but at the end of the day, my decision is final. I’m not going to go out with you anymore. I’m not going to be on the society pages kissing you. I know it seemed to you as if I were asking you what you thought, but I wasn’t. I’m telling you. This is over.”

* * *

This was worse than he’d thought, but he’d faced tougher situations. For a moment, Slade thought about just leaving. It was the lady’s request, but he wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted him gone. He had been walking a tightrope with Melinda since they’d met in a committee meeting.

He remembered that afternoon vividly. She’d been dressed very prim and proper, yet she’d made some hilarious comments under her breath to him while the meeting had been going on. Then apologized later because she’d said she was used to his nonna getting her sense of humor. She’d been such a contradiction that he couldn’t help but want to learn more about her. So, he’d asked her out.

She’d said no.

He’d asked her out again, claiming he needed her help because he was representing the Conti family, and she immediately said yes. One thing had led to another and they’d wound up in bed. He couldn’t regret any of it.

And he wasn’t ready for it to end. If he believed that she was asking him to leave her alone because it was what she wanted, he’d do it in a heartbeat. But a big part of him thought it was due to the photo in the paper. She didn’t like the limelight. She left that to her twin, Angela, and just kept to her quiet philanthropic work.

Her family had been one scandal after another lately and he knew that Melinda had been trying to rise above it while being supportive of everyone. Her twin was engaged to her daddy’s business rival—Ryder Currin of Currin Oil—a man rumored to have had an affair with her mother years ago.

He knew he had to handle this delicately and if when he was done trying to convince her to give him another chance she still wanted him out of her life, he’d leave.

“I don’t think you can just dictate things in our relationship,” he said. “That’s not really fair, is it? Is it because I’m a Bartelli?”

“Slade, you know I don’t hold your family’s reputation against you. You’ve assured me you have no part in that criminal world and I believe you,” she said.

“Thank you for that,” he said. He was always having to prove he wasn’t a thug to most of the people he met. And as much as he was using the details of his life to make himself seem not good enough for her, he knew she’d jump to defend him.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” she said, reaching out to gently squeeze his forearm. “You’re a good man. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“I won’t,” he said, taking her hand in his and running his thumb along the back of her knuckles. She shivered delicately.

“Is it because your family doesn’t like me?”

“Seriously, if they ever met you, I’m sure you’d have them eating out of your hand in no time,” she said. “You can be very charming when you want to be.” She pulled her hand away from his. “I see what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“Trying to point out that there are a lot of good reasons for us to keep dating. But, Slade, you haven’t taken into consideration that we are at our core very different people. I’m single, but there is a part of me that is always hoping that whomever I date will turn into Mr. Right-for-Me. I want the whole shebang—husband, family, big house in the suburbs—and when I’m being honest with myself, I can’t see you as that guy to give them to me,” she said.

He couldn’t argue with that. “I’m not ever having kids, you know that. I don’t want a child of mine to have to grow up like I did in the shadow of my father’s reputation.”

He’d told her that on the first night they’d gone out. They had stayed up until the early hours of morning, talking about life and family and just everything. He had been honest with her because she was Melinda and she was different from the other women he’d hooked up with. For one thing, she was his age and she didn’t seem to be a part of the hook-up culture. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her in the long run. He still didn’t.

And when she framed her objection to their being a couple that way, it was hard for him to keep on with his plan to talk her into not dumping him.

“I get that. I know I’m not a family man,” he said. “But I’m not ready to say goodbye, Melinda.”

She tipped her head to the side, studying him for a long moment before she nodded. “I’m afraid if I don’t end things now, I never will, and when you do walk away, I won’t find the man I need who can give me what you are making me realize I want.”

Her words just made this even harder. She wanted him to stay but to turn into the man she dreamed of. And if there had ever been a man who was made for Melinda, he was the polar opposite of that. He knew the gentlemanly thing to do would be to walk out that door and never see her again. She was too good, too honest for the likes of him. But as much as he wanted to believe he wasn’t a Bartelli through and through, he knew he was.

And he wanted her for himself. All he’d have to do was pretend he’d reconsider, and she’d be his, but he wondered if he could live with himself if he did that. Nonna always said one white lie was all it took to start down the path to the gray area that his father operated in. One where crimes were framed in a way to make it seem as if there were no other option.

He had to find a way to convince her to give him another chance. Because he wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet.

Three

He knew that he needed to do something to win her back.

He had no regrets about the PDA at the opera the night before. He was never going to be able to keep his hands off her. She called to him like nothing else in his life ever had. It intrigued him and kept him coming back for more.

But she was still nibbling on her lower lip and looking over at him, her blue eyes full of regret, longing and resolve. That didn’t bode well.

“I’m sorry about the press. I have my man on it and he’s going to put a spin on it that’s going to make this all seem like nothing but harmless fun,” he said. “That’s what you want, right?”

She blinked rapidly and shook her head. He tried to keep his mind on her emotional state, but she wore a pair of leggings that hugged her curves, revealing her belly button and midriff. His fingers tingled with the need to reach out and touch her, caress her.

When she was in his arms, none of the other stuff mattered. It didn’t matter that he was the reason the social bloggers and society pages were following her. He was the scandal. Not Melinda. She had spent her entire life doing good deeds in her work as a philanthropist. He’d never met someone who always thought of others before themselves.

He did a lot of good work at Conti Enterprises but in his gut, he knew it was to prove he wasn’t like his father. Somehow, he was pretty damn sure that tinged the good deeds.

Neither did his family name matter once he held her in his arms, nor the fact that they really were very different people. Only the attraction and the passion between them mattered. That and the fact that she liked walking on the wild side with him. He knew she wasn’t used to dating a man like him. Sure, she’d dated wealthy bachelors but most of them had been doctors or lawyers. Not sons of dangerous gangsters.

Once again, he realized how much he hated that part of himself. He was constantly at war with that side of himself and it had cost him opportunities all of his life. He knew that one day it would cost him Melinda Perry as well.

But it wouldn’t be today.

“Slade—”

“Don’t. Don’t do this. Give me a chance before you kick me to the curb,” he said.

“I shouldn’t...but I want to,” she said, biting her lower lip again.

This time he groaned. He reached out and rubbed his thumb along her lower lip. She had the kind of mouth that always inspired wet dreams in him, even when he sat across the table from her at a charity meeting. He couldn’t help it. She was so prim and proper when they were in public.

But in private...

She bit his thumb and then sucked it into her mouth. He put his hand on her waist—God, she was so soft—and then he drew her closer until her body was pressed against his. He ran one finger around the waistband of her leggings and then let his finger slowly move up her spine.

She shivered in his arms and arched her back, thrusting her pelvis against his. He rubbed his erection into the notch between her thighs as she parted her legs to accommodate his hard-on. She put one hand on his shoulder and tipped her head back. Their eyes met and he knew this would solve nothing.

He wanted to believe that a day spent burning up the sheets would make all their problems go away, but he knew it wouldn’t. That this wasn’t going to do anything but distract them for a little while.

And since he’d sort of gotten used to being a distraction for her while her father had been under suspicion of financial wrongdoing, it was a role he fell easily into. He liked it because this was the one time when it didn’t matter that he was the son of a dangerous man—a reputed mobster who had a long list of crimes he was suspected of committing, though there had never been any witnesses to convict him.

Except Slade.

No. He wasn’t going there now. He was holding this gorgeous woman in his arms, and he planned to distract them both from the real world and their problems.

Cupping her butt, he lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he brought his mouth down on hers. That sexy mouth of hers melted under his and she pushed her fingers through his hair, holding him to her as she angled her head to deepen the kiss.

Her tongue rubbed over his and he sucked it deeper into his mouth as he moved toward the kitchen counter. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the closest flat surface and he couldn’t wait one more second. He set her down on the counter and stood between her spread legs. She didn’t scoot back, still kept her ankles locked together, holding him with a grip that he knew he could break. But why would he want to?

He had everything that he’d always wanted right here in his arms. The publicity was a road bump, but they’d get past it and move on. They’d figure this out, but not right now. Right now, he had other things to focus on. Like the feel of her hand roaming down the front of his pants, cupping him and stroking his erection while she kissed the side of his neck.

“You like that, don’t you?” she asked, her voice deeper than normal. A husky tone that sent shivers down his spine and made it damn near impossible for him to talk.

“Yeah.”

She laughed at the way he grunted the word but then he took the hem of her sports bra in his hands and lifted it up over her head, tossing it aside. Her breasts were full and her nipples pert from being aroused. He reached down and cupped both breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her areolae until she was arching her back, thrusting her breasts toward him.

“You like that?” he asked her.

She just ran her finger around the tip of his erection until he was about to melt into a puddle at her feet. “Yeah.”

He loved this. Loved the way she turned sex into fun. It wasn’t a game of power with Melinda; it was always something they shared. Both of them enjoying every minute of it and neither one trying to manipulate the other.

Leaning down, he kissed the side of her neck, working his way lower. She smelled of her flowery perfume and the sweat from her workout, and it made him even harder. He loved that she always felt real to him. Not like she was trying to be someone else. Melinda was one of the few people he knew who was always just herself. She owned her life and that was a big turn-on.

He nibbled on her and held her at his mercy. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she leaned up, brushing against his chest. Her nipples were hard points—he glanced down to see them pushing against his chest. He shifted his shoulders, rubbing his chest over hers, and she leaned forward to bite his neck, her fingers going to his tie. She undid it and then moved slowly down the front of his shirt, undoing the buttons and pushing the fabric open until he had to let her go to get the shirt off.

He wore French cuffs because it was something that set him apart from his father, but right now he regretted it as he fumbled to get the cuff links off. Melinda brushed his fingers aside and took them off, putting them on the countertop behind her.

“I got you these, didn’t I? I like them because they require a woman’s touch,” she said.

“Your touch...not any other woman’s. Actually, every part of me requires your touch,” he said.

She ran her finger down his chest, swirling her finger around his nipple before moving lower toward his belly button. “Every part? Not just this one?”

She reached below his belt and caressed his hard-on through the fabric of his pants.

“Every part,” he said, but the words were raspy, and speech was quickly becoming harder for him. He just wanted to rip her clothes from her body and take her.

He always fought against his animal instincts with Melinda. He wanted to protect her from that darkness inside of him, yet she called to it. And sometimes her touch tamed it.

But not right now.

She enflamed him and it was only the sheer force of his will that kept him from acting like the animal he knew he was.