Page 20 of Texas-Sized Scandal

“Fellas,” he said, nodding toward the paparazzi as the doorman held open the door and they walked past.

No one would ever call him a genius, but he was definitely picking up what Melinda was putting down. She looked pissed. The kind of pissed that was going to take a lot more than a Conti heirloom ring and some smooth talking to get around. He didn’t blame her one bit. Her life was a mess and he was the one at the center of it.

Though to be fair, her father was doing his part as well. But her dad wasn’t here. Slade was and he needed to figure out how to make this right. If he were a different man, he’d be doing everything he could to marry her.

A part of him knew that if he could make the engagement real, if he’d marry her and raise the baby together, that would do it. But he couldn’t. He had ghosts in his past and that was saying something given that everyone in Houston and probably beyond knew he was the son of an alleged mobster. And Melinda deserved better.

She didn’t offer him a drink when they entered her condo, just walked into the living room and sat down on the large armchair that faced the door. The windows behind her twinkled with the lights of downtown Houston and he had a real impression of how much he was costing her.

Until this moment, it hadn’t even occurred to him what the price would be to her if anyone found out they were dating. As she sat there, though, with what used to be her city behind her, it couldn’t be clearer.

And he was worried about how he was going to get back into her good graces for the next three months. How was she going to cope with the rest of her life?

“I screwed up,” he said. The words were raw and ripped from the most honest place in his soul. The one that knew that he was one step away from following in his criminal father’s footsteps. The one that never used the wordallegedto refer to his dad’s activities. Sure, he could put on the polish and look like a Conti when required, but even Nonna knew that the reason Conti Enterprises had flourished under his leadership was that he was a Bartelli through and through. He was the kind of man who never took no for an answer and got what he wanted.

He wanted Melinda. On his terms.

And if he needed further proof that he wasn’t the right sort of man to marry and settle down, he’d gotten it. He’d charmed and seduced her until she was in his bed and then the Bartelli luck had kicked in and made a shit hole of her life. He had no way to fix this.

The smart thing to do would be to walk out her front door and find some respectable guy to be the “father” of her kid. But even as the thought entered his mind, he felt a rage welling up inside of him. She belonged to him. The child was his.

He turned away and took several deep breaths. She was her own woman. Not his. But damn. It was hard to accept that.

“You did screw up. But mainly I blame myself because I thought... I should have known better than to trust Philomena. I thought we were friends, but she has told me more than once that blood is thicker than water.”

“I know she thinks of you as family—”

“Spare me. I found out the hard way that isn’t the truth. And I’m really not in the mood to be placated,” she said.

“Fair enough.”

She bit her lower lip and looked away from him, staring past his shoulder as she blinked a few times, and he died a little inside because he knew she’d been hoping—maybe not believing, but hoping—that he’d turn out to be a stand-up guy.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, quietly.

She nodded. “Of course. Now let’s get all our cards on the table. You know where I stand. Pregnant, reputation in tatters. What about you? Temporarily engaged or really engaged to make your nonna happy? Wants a family, doesn’t want a family?”

He hesitated. The truth was more complex than he wanted to share with her, but at this point, his only chance of salvaging any relationship with her was to come clean. But that part of himself... He had never wanted her to know about it.

But now it wasn’t as if she could think any lower of him than she did at that moment.

He moved into the living room and sat down at the hassock by her feet and looked up at her.

“I guess I should start with Nonna. She wants me to settle down with a woman who could be a partner to me. She wants great-grandchildren and to be honest, she adores you. She suggested I take her spot on the art council to meet you. But the truth is, once I met you, I couldn’t help asking you out.”

“Why?” she asked.

He had never been one of those men who could easily verbalize his feelings. That wasn’t the kind of man he was; but as he looked at Melinda, he knew he had to give her something. She wasn’t the kind of woman who did temporary. There was a reason she had never married and it wasn’t because men hadn’t asked her before. She was selective about who she let into her inner circle.

And she’d let him in.

“In that art council meeting, you were funny while the chair was speaking. All of those little comments under your breath. I was intrigued and then when you got up to talk about Salvador Dalí and why we should sponsor the exhibit...” He couldn’t tell her he’d gotten turned on just hearing her passion for the artist. “I knew I wanted to go out with you.”

“I turned you down,” she reminded him.

“You did. But I haven’t gotten to where I am in life by letting a setback affect me. I knew eventually you’d start seeing Slade and not just a Bartelli.”

She leaned over, touching his hand. “You were never just a Bartelli to me. But tonight I realized you might have more of your father’s traits than I had anticipated.”

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