Secrets and Seduction Las Vegas (Sexy Italian Imports Book 1) (26 page)

Monica laughed, realizing she would probably hear the whole, gruesome book if she didn’t let him in. She walked to her security box, pressed the “Open” button, and watched the gates slowly swing inward.

He tossed the book in the back seat and hopped in the car, pulling it up to her front door. When he got out, he held the bouquet. One dozen red roses.

****

Joe walked to Monica’s door, feeling foolish carrying the flowers when she grew magnificent rose plants on her estate. She held the screen door open for him and turned and led him inside. She didn’t say a word.

Her tank top and shorts didn’t match—blue and green—but the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra made up for her fashion transgression.

As he closed the door behind him, she walked into the kitchen and reached into the fridge. She turned as he approached her and tossed a bottle of water at him.

He caught it and set the roses down on her kitchen table. “Thanks,” he said, opening the water, waiting for her to begin.

He’d told her he would wait for her, until she could come to terms with what he’d done—what he’d been forced to do by his Hippocratic Oath. But this morning, he’d known she’d never call him. After her little skit in his office, he’d figured she’d be too embarrassed to face him.

She didn’t scare him away with the bitch performance. He was stuck on her pretty hard.

He used the silence to look around her home. Very old architecture; probably from the ’40s. Interesting arches and built-ins. Her mission style furniture sort of fit the house.

“Are you waiting for me to apologize?” she asked.

His gaze shot back to hers. She looked pissed. “Yes. Unless you want me to apologize first.”

Her jaw shut with a snap of teeth. “No, I’ll go. Dr. Pappa, please forgive me for the inappropriate way I behaved in your office last week.”

He nodded. “Apology accepted. Now my turn.” He set down his water bottle and stepped closer to her. “Dr. Kane, forgive me for making you feel I don’t trust you by reporting you to the hospital board.”

“Don’t trust me?” Her eyebrows shot up. “You could have ended my career, Dr. Pappa. Trust is the least of the things you should be apologizing for!”

He took a breath. “What I did, I had no choice in. I saw irrefutable evidence of a crime being committed, and I reported it. It was nothing personal.”

She stepped forward and poked him in the chest. Hard. “No. Nothing personal. Just your way of proving that your work comes first. Always has and always will.”

He shook his head. “No, not work, Monica. Integrity comes first. What kind of a person would I be if I’d let my love for you keep me from doing the right thing?”

She hauled in a breath, sharp and fast as if her lungs had stopped working for a second. Her eyes filled with moisture. “What did you just say?”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “You want me to repeat the whole thing or just the ‘love’ part?”

She blinked rapidly. “Just the ‘love’ part.”

He looked into her eyes, seeing all the way to her soul. She was an honest, intelligent woman, perhaps a little sexually frustrated, considering what she’d done in his office last week. But he was willing to work on that all afternoon, all evening, and long into the night, if she let him.

“Monica, I think I fell in love the moment you called me an old fart. I realize I’ve ignored you, didn’t return calls, and stood you up. But you need to know that I think about you every spare moment I have. I lie in bed at night wishing you were next to me.”

“Joe. I can’t believe you love me. I’m such a mean—”

“No, not mean. Bold.”

“Bitchy—”

“Assertive.”

“Crabby—”

“Horny. Beautiful, sexy, incredible, and perfect for me.”

She blinked, and tears rolled down her face. “God, how I love you, Joe Pappa.”

His heart shuddered, and he let out a shout. “She loves me!”

“She does.” She took his hand. “And you’re right, she’s really horny, too.”

“Yes! Lead the way.”

She turned and walked toward the bedroom. He needed to enjoy the calm between them, because it wouldn’t be long before they’d be fighting again—about where to live—LA or Vegas.

Chapter Twenty Two

That evening, Valerie and Antonio were expected for dinner at her parents’. She worked until six and offered to pick him up. He resisted, blaming his old-world upbringing. But she talked him into it, promising he could drive home.

He relaxed in the passenger seat, watching her cautiously navigate the T-bird from his penthouse toward the hills on the east side of the valley where her parents lived.

She was too quiet. He watched her profile. “Something on your mind, baby

She nodded. “Antonio, I want to make you a pledge.”

“Something sexy?” He slid his hand onto the nape of her neck, teasing the tiny hairs that escaped her tightly pinned-up hair.

“No, something serious.” She glanced at him then back to the road. “I promise I will respect your weekends.”

“Wait—”

“No.” She held up a hand. “Let me finish. I knew you reserved that time for writing. It was thoughtless of me to intrude. And I will never, never do it again.”

“And if you do,” he teased. “You’ll call first?”

She smiled. “Yes. If I do break my promise, I’ll call first to let you know.”

He laughed. “I can accept that.”

They arrived at the gatehouse at Seven Hills. The guard let them in immediately, and Antonio whistled in amazement at the homes they drove by. Multi-million-dollar estates set in amazing landscapes. He recognized one that looked like a French villa. Another resembled a Spanish hacienda.

“Are they all themed?” he asked.

“You noticed. Yes, most of them are. This one is my favorite.”

“A Tuscan villa?”

“Mm hm. What do you think?”

“Makes me homesick.”

“You should take a trip back.”

He changed the subject as they passed an interesting home. “What is this style?”

“Serengeti.”

“Oh, of course. I recognize it from
National Geographic
.”

She giggled and turned the car into the next house. “Here we are.”

It was the largest home he’d seen in the community, a huge double lot on a cul-de-sac.

“I feel underdressed.” He got out of the car and pulled a sports coat on over his sweater and Dockers. She wore a conservative dress and pumps. He smiled, guessing she wore underclothes this evening, too.

They walked up to the door and she nudged his arm. “What are you smiling about?”

“Wondering what you have on under that dress.”

She blushed, and her eyes lit with instant desire. “Be good, Antonio.”

“I bet we could find a quiet room somewhere to be bad.”

“Probably a dozen or more, but this dinner is about bonding with my parents.
Capisci
?”

“
Capisco
. Your parents don’t appreciate screwing around.”

“Definitely. These people are not screw arounder-ers.” The look on her face was half serious, half silly.

“You may think my English is not very good, but I know whatever you just said was gibberish.”

She laughed then grabbed his wrist when he reached for the doorknob.

“We don’t just walk in.” She rang the doorbell.

What kind of relationship did she have with her parents? At his home in Italy, the door was always open, and family was welcome anytime.

Scott opened the door. “Valerie.” He kissed her cheek. “Antonio, good to see you.”

They shook hands, and Antonio handed him a box. “Four bottles of Daniato wine.”

“Marvelous. I can’t wait to try it.”

“Is Mom in the kitchen?” she asked.

“Of course, pestering Sandra.” Scott winked at Antonio. “Our overworked but overpaid cook. Go see your mother. Antonio and I are going into the den to get a drink. Then a tour?”

“Absolutely.” Antonio winked at her.

Valerie kissed him when her father wasn’t looking and went off to the kitchen.

Antonio followed Scott. Passing the dining room, he set the wine bottles on the credenza. “Fancy labels. I expected something more…rustic.”

“The winery has been in the family for seven generations. It’s grown slowly, but the quality is five star.”

“Not sold in the US?”

“No. There’s more than enough demand for it in Italy.”

They wandered into the den. Large leather recliners, duck wallpaper border, dark wood accents, and the room smelled like cigars.

Scott went behind the bar. “What’s your poison?”

“Scotch?”

“Single malt?”

“Sounds good.”

“Aged thirty-five years, it should be good.”

They took their drinks with them as Scott gave Antonio the tour. He pointed out the twelve-foot ceilings throughout the house, eighteen feet in the kitchen where Valerie and her mother sat and talked while the cook worked pots and pans on the huge stovetop.

Dena nodded at Antonio, who greeted her courteously. The woman went back to talking with her daughter practically before Antonio had finished offering his thanks for the dinner invitation. Great. It’d be that kind of night. He took a hefty swallow of the scotch.

They walked through the wine cellar, media room, billiard room, and the four bedrooms all on one level. They went outside and looked in the guest house, which had a full kitchen and two bedrooms.

“We thought the guest house would come in handy if any of the kids decided to move back home, but none of them did. Pretty independent offspring we have.”

“From what I’ve seen, definitely true.”

They strolled through a courtyard with a round fire pit then to the pool area. Antonio was impressed by the full outdoor kitchen, cabana, bar, and spa, all with a fantastic view of The Strip. “This is a lot of house.”

“We hope to have grandkids to help fill it up soon.”

“Monica?” Antonio asked. Was she engaged?

Scott stopped and looked at him. “Valerie?”

He swallowed, cleared his throat. “She’s not interested in settling down any time soon.”

Scott shouted out a laugh. “That’s what they all say.” He patted Antonio on the arm. “What they mean is
, I’m ready today, but I’ll wait for you to come around.”

Antonio laughed. “I don’t think that’s true of Valerie. She has a career to think about.”

Scott gestured to the big cushioned metal chairs, and they sat facing the pool.

“Son…” Scott narrowed his eyes. “Take a look around her house someday. It’s completely child-friendly. No sharp edges on the fireplace, the electrical outlets are safety. She even has built-in child gates at the top and bottom of her stairs. Tell me she isn’t ready.”

No, he hadn’t noticed.

“How old are you?” Scott eyed his face.

“Twenty-eight.”

“You’ve probably thought about starting a family soon.”

He took a hefty swallow of Scotch, welcoming the burn down his throat. “I haven’t. Valerie’s the first woman I’ve dated seriously since college. And we’ve only known each other a few months.”

“She’s a keeper, you know.”

“I realize that. She’s very important to me.”

Scott shook his head. “Her mother thinks she’ll get over you. Marry someone more like our family.”

“Meaning what?” Now it started, words that tested his anger issue. Deep breath.

Scott shrugged one shoulder. “Meaning business people, professionals, community leaders.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think Valerie should make her own choice. I’m just telling you what you’re up against.” Scott leaned toward him, his eyebrows drawn together. “Dena can be persuasive and knows just what buttons to push to get her kids doubting themselves.”

The anxiety attack. It had started with Dena. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah. Try and live with that for thirty-five years. ‘Damn’ doesn’t quite cover it.” Antonio laughed, and Scott shrugged. “I love her, but she’s manipulative.”

“She’s honest, though. She doesn’t see me with Valerie long term, and she tries to protect her daughter from being hurt.”

“What about you?” Scott asked quietly. “Do you see yourself with Valerie long term?”

He took only a second to answer. “Yes, sir, I do.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. It was true, which meant it was time to tell Valerie about his night life.

Scott put his hand on Antonio’s shoulder. “That’s all I need to hear. You can consider me in your corner, for what it’s worth.”

“I appreciate that. I really do, a great deal. I want to make Valerie happy for as long as she’ll have me.”

“I’ve seen how Valerie looks at you, and I get the notion she has the same intention.” Scott slapped Antonio’s back. “This conversation is getting too serious. We need another drink. C’mon in the house, and we’ll sneak one more Scotch before dinner.” Scott brought them around the house and into a side door. “No sense walking through the kitchen with all those women in there.”

By the time they went into the formal dining room, Antonio had drunk too much.

He spoke with Dena, trying to keep his words from slurring. When Valerie came in, he held her chair for her. The place settings were very expensive, the glass was crystal, the flatware silver. The cook served a superb six-course meal.

Scott kept the wine flowing. He opened a couple of the Daniato bottles. The conversation stayed friendly, and Antonio didn’t sense any animosity from Dena.

“We received a lovely note from Troy this week.” Dena spoke loudly in the quiet room. “He is such a nice man, and you won’t believe what he offered us.”

Antonio, surprised and still a little drunk, lost control of his knife and dropped it against his plate. He cringed, looked at the expensive china—not broken—and glanced around the table at everyone staring at him. He should stop drinking immediately; he was sloshed.

Valerie looked at her mother. “That’s nice of Troy. What did he say?”

“He thanked us for all our kindness while you two were…dating. And offered us tickets to any game we would like to attend. Isn’t that sweet?”

Valerie smiled. “Yes, it is.”

Scott grumbled and shook his head at his wife. “This is a coincidence. A distributor I work with lives in the same building as you, Antonio. We were talking the other day, and he has seen you in the parking garage.”