“I have no self-control around you.”

Now they’re the talk of Texas...

Melinda Perry has always been the well-behaved twin—until Slade Bartelli. Rumor has it that this billionaire has ties to the mob. All Melinda knows is that his touch is hotter than fire...and now she’s expecting his baby. A fake engagement might protect them from tabloid gossip. But will Melinda’s reputation—and heart—be safe given Slade’s dangerous past?

USA TODAY bestselling author KATHERINE GARBERA writes emotional, sexy contemporary romances. An Amazon, Barnes & Noble and iBooks bestselling author, she is also a two-time Maggie Award winner and has sold more than seven million copies of her books worldwide. She loves to hear from readers via her website, www.katherinegarbera.com.

Also by Katherine Garbera

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Cole’s Hill Bachelors miniseries

Rancher Untamed

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Texas-Sized Scandal

Katherine Garbera

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09261-6

TEXAS-SIZED SCANDAL

© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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This book is dedicated to

Lenora Worth, Julia Justiss and Eve Gaddy,

my soul sisters. Thanks for always listening and having

my back and giving me a safe place to share the ugly

bits of life and then helping me to see the silver lining.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Epilogue

About the Publisher

Prologue

Sterling Perry has to be feeling pretty smug now that he has been released from jail on fraud charges. Damn. The evidence should have been enough to keep him in jail. Nothing is going as planned. Ever since Vincent—Well, that doesn’t matter. No one has any idea who killed the man. I guess I’ll just have to direct them toward a suspect.

Perry is the most logical choice. The hatred the thought of him stirs inside me makes me want to punch someone. But instead I just take a deep breath and fight to find the calm part of myself. The part that makes it easier for me to plot the demise of the men who have stolen everything from me.

It’s not as if they are good men. They both have flaws, too many to name, and they’ve hurt many people along the way. Collateral damage like me. But not anymore.

Ryder Currin and Sterling Perry are doing a good job of torturing each other, which doesn’t hurt the plans that have been put in motion. But it wouldn’t hurt to get Sheriff Battle on the case. He’s a bulldog and would help to add fire to the charges simmering around Sterling Perry.

That text was sent from Vincent on a Perry Holdings phone. Everyone knows that no one does anything at Perry Holdings without Sterling’s ap proval. That should be enough to get the case fo cused back on Sterling.

Glancing down at the email that has just arrived, a feeling of self-satisfaction spreads throughout me. Ryder Currin has some employment issues. Inter esting. It shouldn’t be that hard to get the information into Sterling Perry’s hands and then let him use his information to ruin Currin.

It’s hard not to feel self-satisfied. So embezzling didn’t work out. There are still a couple of irons in this fire. Both of them are going to pay for what they’ve done. No matter how long it takes.

One

Melinda Perry glanced at her phone as she put the last hot roller in her hair. She was trying to ween herself off her social media addiction. While she loved knowing exactly what her faves were doing, she had learned she functioned better with far less FOMO if she started her day with a mug of... She wanted to say hot lemon water, but she’d never been able to make herself acquire a taste for it. No matter how unhealthy it was, she always started her day with coffee, a teaspoon of hot cocoa mix and nonfat half-and-half.

She glanced at the clock on her vanity mirror; she was running ahead of schedule. “Okay, Jeeves, give me the latest society news from the Houston Chronicle,” she said. She’d programmed her electronic assistant to answer to Jeeves because she thought it was funny to pretend she had a proper British butler and because it had been going off whenever the commercial for it had come on prior to that.

“Good morning, Mels. Here’s today’s headline—‘Heiress and philanthropist Melinda Perry is going hot and heavy with notorious playboy Slade Bartelli. Photos available on Houston Chronicle dot com.’”

“Okay, Jeeves, stop,” she said, fumbling for her phone and opening the Houston Chronicle app. Oh, no. She didn’t want to be on the society pages. She didn’t want the world to know about her love affair with Slade.

Her family had been a hot mess for the last year and she had struggled to remain above it. Going about her business and acting as if everything were okay. Her father had been accused of running a Ponzi scheme, arrested and released from jail. Her sister was having a scandalous relationship with one of her father’s most hated business rivals. And of course, she had started a romance with the son of notorious mobster Carlo Bartelli.

To be fair, Slade wasn’t part of his father’s crime syndicate and she had met him at a charitable committee meeting. He was an upstanding citizen but the media never seemed to care about that.

As soon as she opened the app, she saw a photo of herself and Slade embracing...okay, kissing. Hot and heavy kissing in one of the alcoves of the Houston Symphony at Jones Hall.

She felt panic rise inside of her and her pulse raced. She was hot and bothered not only from being exposed but from remembering that kiss. She had to end this. It was getting out of control. She was behaving in a way that didn’t suit her at all. Sure, she was thirty-nine and, as her twin had pointed out, not getting any younger.

If not now, then when? That’s what Angela had said when Melinda had shyly mentioned she was seeing someone different from her usual type of guy.

But this wasn’t what Melinda had had in mind. She liked her charity work, her quiet life. Also, Angela had been very plain in her disapproval of Slade as a lover for Melinda. Not that she needed her twin’s approval of the man she dated.

She heard the sound of Pixie, her miniature dachshund, barking and then her bedroom door opened and her sister Angela walked into the room. They lived in the same building and always nipped into each other’s places. The design of the condo was an open concept on the main living level and then an upper-level loft that was the master bedroom, bathroom and a living/sitting room that Melinda used as a workout space.

“I thought you weren’t sure that Slade was the right man for you. Didn’t you say you wanted to be a mom? He’s a legendary playboy, you know that, right?”

“No need to ask how you found out,” she said. “I just didn’t know if we were serious or not and I didn’t want to make a big deal.”

“That photo looked pretty serious to me,” Angela said. She sat down on the tufted bench at the end of Melinda’s bed.

Her sister had a thermal mug in her hand and looked fashionable as always. No matter how hard Melinda tried, she always felt like the serious, preppy twin. She knew that no one else would ever call her that, but she was the quieter twin, in fashion and in personality. If anyone should have been dating Slade, it was Angela.

“That picture... I had no idea anyone would see us, or I never would have kissed him like that,” Melinda admitted.

“You’re blushing! We’re thirty-nine, Mels. It’s time for you to stop blushing when you talk about sex.”

“I wasn’t talking about sex! Slade just makes me hot. It’s not embarrassment, it’s—Oh, never mind. What am I going to do?” she asked her sister.

“Do you like him?” Angela asked.

Like him?

She hadn’t thought about it that way. He was so intense. She knew about his family’s rumored mob connections, but when she was with him, he focused on her. He made her feel...like she was the only woman in the world. And the most passionate person he’d ever met. But honestly, she knew that was only because of him. Donald, her ex-boyfriend of eight years, always complained that she hadn’t brought any va-va-voom, but with Slade that wasn’t an issue.

“I know you don’t approve of him. You’ve made that very clear and I’m not sure how I feel about him. He’s on the art council, which is how we met.”

“He’s on the art council? I thought his family were all mobsters—which, by the way, concerns me.”

“He’s not a mobster, Angela. He is also the only grandson of Philomena Conti. So he’s representing the family. I think Mrs. Conti had a hip replacement earlier this year, which is why he filled in at the meeting. We just hit it off. He likes art as much as I do. It was my description of a Van Dyck that made him notice me.”

Angela stood up and walked over to her, putting her hands on Melinda’s shoulders and making her face the mirror. She met her sister’s gaze, avoiding looking at herself. She had the big rollers in because it made doing her hair easier, and she hadn’t put on any makeup yet so her freckles were visible.

“Look at yourself,” Angela said.

She glanced up at her own reflection. She always smiled at herself because that helped her start the day in a good mood. Angela smiled back at her as well.

“That man noticed you because of you,” she said. “And it’s about time that you found a man who can make you forget yourself at the opera.”

Melinda sighed. She knew her sister was right. No matter what Slade made her feel, at the end of the day their lives simply didn’t fit together. He was more Cristal champagne and parties at his penthouse and jetting off to Dubai than local artist openings.

“I know. Not the danger part—he’s really not a bad man, Angela. But he’s not for me either. Honestly, I sort of thought after we slept together, he’d move on to someone else,” Melinda said. “But he hasn’t. There’s something between us that makes it hard to keep our hands off each other.”

“Passion, Mels. Finally, you’ve found a guy who brings out the fire in you,” Angela said. “But not a Bartelli. Find someone else.”

Melinda shook her head. She didn’t want the fire... Well, not all the time. Fire was dangerous. She knew that had led to trouble in her parents’ relationship and she’d always striven to keep her life on an even keel.

But now she wasn’t on an even keel. She was already really overdue for her period and she’d always been regular. Maybe she was having perimenopause. She had read an article that some women started to experience symptoms at her age.

She met her sister’s eyes in the mirror and knew better than to bring up that subject again unless she’d taken a pregnancy test. As close as she and Angela were, there were some things that they both just kept to themselves and this was going to be one of them.

“If it were that easy, I would have done it a long time ago,” she said at last. “I’m not sure where things are going with Slade, but we both know it’s not going to last.”

“Good,” Angela said, giving her a breezy one-armed hug. “Are you okay?”

She wanted to nod but the hot rollers made her head feel heavy and awkward. “Of course. I’m always okay.”

“Except I know that you’re not. You said you wanted to be a mom...and suspected you were pregnant. Are you? Is he the father?” Angela asked.

She wasn’t ready to talk about pregnancy. She hadn’t even been to her doctor yet, even though she had bought more than a few over-the-counter tests. She hadn’t gotten up the courage to take them yet. She might want to be a mom, but she had in her mind the way it should happen. She was a traditional kind of gal. She wanted Slade to fall in love with her—desperately in love—and propose marriage, to have a huge society wedding—where her father, sister and family weren’t in the midst of a scandal—and then have a baby.

“I don’t know if I’m pregnant,” she said, dropping her gaze from Angela’s in the mirror. She wasn’t a big fan of lying to anyone, but she wasn’t ready to deal with being pregnant while the Chronicle was running a photo of her and Slade kissing. “I mean, Slade Bartelli doesn’t sound like the right kind of man for me, does he?”

Angela propped her hip on the edge of the vanity and looked pensively at Melinda’s bedroom. For the first time, Melinda realized that her sister might be hiding something of her own. “Are you okay? How are your wedding plans coming along?” Angela had just announced her engagement to Ryder Currin.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Nice try, but we are talking about you,” Angela said. “I don’t know what to tell you. If you say Slade’s a good guy... Well, I’m on your side. Just make sure you know what you’re doing. While fire is good and I have always thought that’s what you needed to shake you out of your routines and lists, it can also burn you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Melinda turned and hugged her sister, resting her head against her stomach. “I don’t want you hurt either. Men are...way more complicated than they look on the surface.”

Her sister laughed as she started taking out the hot rollers in Melinda’s hair. “They are. Why can’t they just be hot, right?”

“Yes. And sophisticated and like the things we like and then go away when we need to get back to real life.”

Her sister laughed again. “If only we were in charge of the world.”

“Someday,” she said.

“Someday,” Angela repeated quietly.

Angela left a few minutes later and Pixie came trotting into the room and plopped herself on her bed. Melinda leaned into the mirror to finish putting on her makeup and fixing her hair and then she got dressed for the day.

She took extra care to make sure her A-line skirt was straight, and her blouse tucked in properly; she didn’t like it when it was too loose around the waist. She tied the pussy bow at the neckline and then switched the contents of her handbag to the purse that perfectly matched her magenta skirt. She had a lot of work to do at her foundation and meetings this morning.

She put her sunglasses on the top of her head, patted Pixie’s head as she walked out the front door, then took the elevator down to the lobby of her building. Downstairs, she was met by a barrage of flashbulbs.

Panicked, she ducked back onto the elevator. She went back to her condo, texted her assistant she’d be out this morning and then hit the treadmill. Walking always helped her figure things out. Things were definitely getting too complicated and now she knew she had to end things with Slade. No one had ever noticed when she kissed Donald.

* * *

Slade Bartelli tossed his phone on the passenger seat of his Ferrari Lusso as he backed out of his parking space at his downtown offices. He’d been trying to get in touch with Melinda since he’d gotten the news notification from the Houston Chronicle. And nothing. Total radio silence.

She wasn’t a fan of too much PDA, which he admitted was cute and one of the reasons why he liked her. She dressed like a lady but kissed like...well, like his hottest, wettest dreams. She was different, and he liked that about her. But his gut—the same one that had always warned him when trouble was at the door during his childhood—was telling him that if he didn’t talk to her, she was going to walk out of his life without a backward glance.

Part of him—the part that he was constantly fighting with—wanted to find the paparazzo who’d taken that photo and pound him. But he wasn’t that kind of Bartelli. He was trying to be the man his nonna Conti had raised him to be. But there were times when he had to admit his dad’s way was a lot more efficient.

He pulled up in front of Melinda’s building, parking illegally out front because he knew the doorman would relish the chance to drive the Ferrari if the traffic cop came by. He saw the paparazzi as soon as he neared the building. They were snapping photos, calling his name, and he faced them with a snarl, ready to unleash hell or his version of it on them, until he heard the doorman calling his name.

Not Slade but Mr. Bartelli.

That’s right. He was better than his mobster blood. But, he reminded himself, that didn’t mean he was good enough for Melinda Perry. Despite the scandal that swirled around her family—he’d heard rumors that her father was implicated in a murder now—Melinda was always above it. She loved her family but she kept her distance. No one who looked at her would ever believe she was anything but good and kind. Things no one would ever say about him.

No matter that he had to remind himself of that several times a day.

“Johnny,” he said, walking over to the doorman. “I’m here to see Ms. Perry. How long have they been here?”

“All day. I helped her sneak back onto the elevator. But they’re persistent and won’t leave.”

“Have you called the cops?”

“Ms. Perry didn’t want to. She said they’re just doing their jobs.”

Of course she did. She had a kind heart. “Let’s get rid of them. I’ll call the commissioner and take care of it. Also, will you keep an eye on my car? Move it if you need to.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Bartelli.”

Slade walked into the lobby of Melinda’s building and stood there for a moment, battling both sides of himself before he dialed his assistant and asked him to take care of the paparazzi.

“Yes, sir. Also, you had a call from your father. Not an emergency. He just wants to speak to you. And your grandmother expects you for dinner with Ms. Perry.”

“Ignore my father. I’ll take care of Nonna.”

“Yes, sir.”

He hung up with his assistant and immediately went to the elevator that led to Melinda’s condo. He knew why everyone was interested in them as a couple. Because he was flashy and courted the media. It was the only way he knew to prove that he was aboveboard ever since he’d taken over running Conti Imports. He’d been under so much scrutiny that he’d hired a PR firm that had advised him to make sure everything he did was very public and had as much publicity as he could throw at it.

He’d never have guessed he’d like the attention as much as he did, but it suited him. He liked talking to the press; he didn’t even mind it when they followed him around. But with Melinda, he knew that was just another mark against him. His dad was a rumored mob boss and Slade knew the old man had tried going clean a long time ago and he’d never been able to. That was another reason why Slade really liked working for his mom’s side of the family.

His dad had one time said that once he took his job as a hit man, there was no turning back. And Slade never wanted to be on that path. As much as his gut always wanted him to take the easy way, he fought it and made sure he never did.

But Melinda messed up his gut. She had him so hot and horny he felt like he was eighteen and not almost forty. He hadn’t been this turned on by a woman in a long time. But it was more than the sex that was fabulous. It was the way she poured herself into her passions like art and opera.

When he got off the elevator on the twenty-fourth floor and walked toward her condo, he hesitated. It would be better for her if he let her drift out of his life. He knew that media attention wasn’t something she was going to enjoy. And he’d done a good job of keeping their relationship private. Until now, obviously. He had to admit that he’d done it not for her—well, not consciously for her—but more for himself. So much of his life was in the spotlight that it had been nice to have someone who was just his. No one knew about her, and he knew she liked it that way as well. Though she might say that his family name didn’t matter to her, he knew it did.

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.

He slowly drew his hand down the side of her neck, taking his time to note all of the things about her that excited him. She had a scar on her upper arm that she admitted she’d gotten when she’d fallen out of her high school boyfriend’s pick-up truck. He rubbed his finger over the crescent shape, watching goose bumps spread down her arm, and then her nipples tightened even more.

He ran his other hand down her shoulder blade to the line of her spine, slowly caressing her back. She rolled her back against his touch, her breasts brushing against his chest. Slowly he worked his way down her back, taking time to fondle the indentation of her waist and then moving lower until he reached the base of her spine.

He cupped her butt and drew her forward until he could rub his erection against the center of her. She dug her nails into his shoulders and arched against him as he palmed her buttocks. She moaned and rubbed herself against him.

He wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her off the countertop. With the other hand, he shoved her leggings down. Once she realized what he was doing, she helped him, pushing the fabric down her legs until she was free. He stepped back and just looked at her, sitting naked on her kitchen counter and he almost came in his pants.

Her eyes drifted closed and he saw her chest expand as she inhaled. He reached up and cupped her breasts, running his fingers over her distended nipples. He loved the pink perkiness of them and the way they responded to his every touch. He rubbed his fingers back and forth over them until her head dropped back and her back arched. He needed to make every sexual experience they had top the last. With any other woman that might have been difficult, but not with Melinda.

“Slade, baby, do that again,” she moaned as she tipped her head to the side, exposing her long neck. He couldn’t resist leaning down to nip at it, sucking against the pulse that beat strongly there. Her hands fell to his shoulders, holding on to him for a brief moment, and then she moved her hands down his arms. He flexed his biceps, knowing how much that excited her.

No one had ever turned him on this quickly before. Somehow, she was a thirst that he couldn’t quench and as much as he knew that made her dangerous, he couldn’t resist her.

He liked that she couldn’t resist him either. She arched against him as he leaned down and sucked one nipple into his mouth. He looked up at her, wanting to remember her like this—turned on, so full of need and want and knowing he was the only one who could satisfy her.

A few tendrils had escaped her ponytail, but he wanted to feel her hair against him, so he pulled the hair tie from it and she shook her head as her hair fell around her shoulders, curling just above her breasts. He buried his head in the soft strands and inhaled deeply.

He noticed her eyes were heavy lidded as her hips began moving against him. He felt himself straining against the zipper of his trousers and reached between them to pull the zipper down and free himself.

He fumbled in his pocket for the condom he had stuck in there before coming over. She took it from him and their eyes met. Something passed over her face and he started to ask her what it was, but then it was gone. She undid his belt and shoved his pants down his legs, along with his boxers. The elastic got caught on his erection and he stepped back to shove them down his legs, taking the condom from her and putting it on.

She looked like something from his hottest fantasies. There were moments when he wondered why it had taken him so long to find a woman like Melinda, but then he knew his younger self wouldn’t have known how to handle her.

He leaned down and licked the valley between her breasts, imagining his erection sliding back and forth there. He bit carefully at her delicate skin, suckling at her so that he’d leave his mark.

“Enough foreplay. Take me, Slade,” she said. “I need to forget everything except this for a little while.”

Her words enflamed him because he wanted nothing more than to drive himself into her again and again. No woman had affected him the way she did. She seemed to accept him as the man he was. Son of a mobster and grandson of one of the richest, most prominent women in Houston. She seemed to understand that both parts of him made him the man he was.

She spread her thighs, leaning back on her elbows, beckoning him to her. He groaned at the sight of her. This was an image he hoped to carry in his mind for the rest of his days, even after this affair ended. He knew it would. He was poison to a good woman like Melinda, but not for the short term.

He stepped between her legs, cupped her buttocks and drew her closer to him. Rubbing the tip of his erection against her center, nestling it to the opening of her body. She shifted against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he entered her. Just the smallest bit because he couldn’t wait.

She reached between his legs and fondled his sac, cupping him in her hands, and he shuddered. “If you keep doing that, this is going to be a very short experience.”

She squeezed him and sucked his lower lip into her mouth. “I don’t mind.”

He held her hips steady and entered her slowly until he was fully sheathed. Her eyes widened with each inch he gave her. She clutched at his hips as he started thrusting, holding him to her, eyes half-closed and her head tipped back.

He leaned down and caught one of her nipples in his teeth, scraping very gently. She started to tighten around him. Her hips moved faster, demanding more, but he kept the pace slow, steady. Wanting her to come before he did.

He suckled her nipple and rotated his hips to catch her pleasure point with each thrust and he felt her hands in his hair, clenching as she threw her head back and her climax ripped through her.

He varied his thrusts, finding a rhythm that would draw out the tension at the base of his spine. Something that would make his time in her body, wrapped in her silky limbs, last forever.

She scraped her nails down his back, clutched his buttocks and drew him in. Sensation feathered down his spine, his blood roared in his ears and everything in his world centered on Melinda.

He called her name as he came, collapsing against her chest. Her arms held him, one hand moving up and down his back, until his breathing steadied, and he shifted until he stood between her legs again. He looked down at her face and kissed her softly. He had no idea what he was going to do with Melinda. She wasn’t the right woman for him, but he couldn’t walk away.

He heard her doorbell ring and she looked at the two of them, still joined and naked.

“Who could that be?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Want me to handle it for you?”

She glanced at him as he stepped back and pulled on his trousers. “No. I need to do this. Let’s go and get dressed and I’ll take care of it.”

She picked up her phone from the table and glanced at the video app to see who was there. “It’s my sister Esme.”

He lifted her off the counter, caressing her as he did so, and she batted his hands away. “Not now.”

“Give me a minute,” she yelled at the closed front door as she dashed upstairs to her bedroom. He collected their clothes and followed her upstairs to her bedroom. When he entered, she was already twisting her hair back into a ponytail and wearing a flowery patterned wraparound dress that accentuated her curves.

“Hurry back,” he said as she kissed him before running out of the room. He couldn’t last long without her.

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