Sexy Scoundrel: A Cocky Hero Club Novel

by Greywood, Raisa

  “Behave yourself. We’re out in public.”

  Carlina stared at me, her delicious lips parted in surprise. “I think I’m going to smother you in your sleep,” she said, brushing my hand away. “It’s the only way to be sure.”

  Jeremy barked out a laugh, quieting when I glared at him. I might not have gotten the Pokémon bullshit, but I recognized the iconic line from Aliens.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carlina

  Giorgio’s Mercedes was luxurious and comfortable, with an incredible sound system playing a soft instrumental that was soothing and compelling at the same time. The ride was so smooth I almost thought I was sitting on my own couch.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about staying with Giorgio. I’d be closer to Antonio, which made me happy, but Giorgio was going to make things difficult. I resisted the urge to touch my tingling lips. The man kissed like a freaking god, and I still felt the lingering scratch of his afternoon stubble on my face.

  He left his hair down and the dark waves cascaded below his shoulders. I almost wished he’d put the clip back in. It would be a lot easier to resist the desire burning between my legs. He smelled so damned good and I could still catch a whiff of his sandalwood cologne if I turned my head into the breeze from the air conditioning. Telling myself to get a grip, I leaned away from the enticing fragrance and shifted uncomfortably, then closed my eyes and tried to ignore the discomfort.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I opened my eyes a crack to find Giorgio looking at me with his hand resting on my knee. “I’m okay. Thanks for asking.”

  He frowned at me, his thick brows drawing together. “Carlina, if you’re not feeling well, you need to tell me.”

  “I’ll take a pill when I get to your place. Aside from that, there isn’t much you can do about it.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” he muttered. “Are you hungry?”

  “I might be later, but don’t go to any trouble. Canned soup or a sandwich is fine.”

  It seemed neither one of us were going to mention the kisses we’d shared. I couldn’t believe I’d been stupid enough to let him kiss me in public. What had I been thinking? Was I looking for more tabloid stories trashing my reputation? Everyone around us had seemed much more interested in Chansey, but you never knew what people would photograph. It was possible Giorgio wasn’t recognized. When he wore casual clothes and left his hair down, he didn’t look like his tabloid pictures at all.

  Scowling inwardly, I reminded myself to upload Mark’s video when I got to an internet connection. The thought led to some self-examination. Why did I care what strangers thought? My friends knew me. I’d gotten several calls and visits from my family and friends while I was in the hospital. The staff from La Panache even sent flowers and Aubrey visited me every morning.

  I’d be forgotten the minute a celebrity did something dumb and my association with Giorgio would be over when I was well enough to go home. Aside from Antonio, we had nothing in common, and I definitely wasn’t his type.

  He went after leggy blondes, not curvy Latinas who enjoyed their own cooking a little too much. I didn’t like his man bun, but when he let that gorgeous mane of thick dark hair free…

  “We’ll be home in about ten minutes,” Giorgio said.

  I turned away from his gaze, wondering if he had any inkling of my thoughts. “Okay. I’m looking forward to seeing Antonio.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You might not see him. He hasn’t left his room since he came home from the hospital.”

  “Kitchen fires happen all the time and my house is old. It could have happened to me just as easily.”

  “I know that.” Giorgio scowled and looked out the window. “He’s not listening to me, but he might listen to you, especially when you tell him about your new kitchen.”

  “What about it? I planned on finding a contractor get the prep work done while I’m laid up, but I haven’t even started yet.”

  He coughed and reached down to retrieve a thick folder from a briefcase. “Here,” he said, handing the sheaf of paper to me.

  “What’s this?”

  “Your new kitchen.”

  I opened the folder and my jaw dropped. The top page was an artist’s rendering of the most beautiful kitchen I’d ever seen. The only thing that looked remotely familiar was my grandmother’s oak kitchen table where three generations of Pérezes had shared meals, done homework, and played cutthroat games of canasta and bridge.

  I let out a sigh of relief. Mr. Dennison hadn’t known for sure and I’d wondered if the table had survived. It might have been damaged, but it was probably sound enough for use if it was included in the sketch.

  Where the table had once stood, there was a kitchen island, and the table had moved several feet away. The window above the sink was still there, but instead the original small frame, it was a magnificent bow surrounding a breakfast nook.

  “None of this will fit,” I said faintly. “This is easily twice my current space.”

  “It’s a little over three times the size of the original. Since the east wall where your stove was doesn’t exist anymore, my designers decided to expand.”

  “I can’t afford a remodel like this!” Even without new appliances, I was looking at a kitchen that would cost more than I’d earn in years even if I included Giorgio’s exorbitant salary for taking care of Antonio.

  “Too late,” he replied, grinning at me. “The addition is already framed and the contractor is taking off your old roof to replace it. The new windows are going in once that’s done.”

  “What the hell, Giorgio! I never authorized a new roof and there was nothing wrong with my windows!”

  My heart rate spiked, and although I’d never had a panic attack, I was pretty sure it was going to happen. He systematically dismantled my life and put me tens of thousands of dollars in debt. I wished I could lift my arms so I could wring his neck. Hot tears filled my eyes and my ribs throbbed in time with my pounding heart. I’d be in a nursing home before I managed to pay off the staggering cost of what he’d done.

  “They didn’t match the addition. Keep looking through the folder so you can see what the designers plan for your master suite. I think you’ll love the bathroom and the private deck.”

  I threw the folder at his head. “Take me home,” I hissed. “I have to stop those contractors.”

  “It’s too late for that,” he said, straightening the drawings. “Besides, who in their right mind is going to turn down a free renovation designed by Acardi Development?”

  Giorgio

  Carlina had the most expressive face and the range of emotions flashing in her beautiful eyes made me want to laugh. I knew better though. She might be laid up and helpless right now, but she wouldn’t be that way forever.

  I had plans for her once she was healed too.

  Her expression of sick horror was a little insulting. My designers were creating a beautiful space for her and had won dozens of awards for their work.

  “Even if you give me the design work for free or at cost, the renovation itself is going to bankrupt me,” she gritted out. “Not all of us have that kind of money and my insurance won’t cover even half of this.”

  I nodded, finally understanding why she’d been so appalled. I’d spent a few years living hand to mouth myself and remembered what it was like.

  “I’m taking care of the bills. There won’t be an insurance claim either,” I said, knowing she’d be all over my offer. No woman had ever turned down money from me.

  “No. This isn’t your responsibility and I’m not taking your money for it.”

  Sighing, I rubbed the crease between my eyes. Carlina’s picture was next to the word stubborn in the dictionary. I wasn’t sure why I expected her to be like all the other women I’d given gifts to since I’d already lost count of how many times she’d refused my money. It was refreshing, even though it annoyed the fuck out of me. I hadn’t gone a single day in months without wanting to take a crop to
her backside, yet I couldn’t fault her ethics.

  “Well, since you don’t have a roof or windows right now, I’d say it is my responsibility,” I retorted, trying to hold on to my patience.

  “Fine. Fix what you’ve screwed up and call off your contractors. Tell your designers thanks but no thanks. I’ll do the rest.”

  It wasn’t socially acceptable to put an injured woman over my lap for a spanking. I had to tell myself that three times and count to twenty before my irritation cooled enough to speak, but the time I spent calming myself down gave me an idea.

  “Let’s think about it this way. Leave me out of the equation and consider Antonio. He feels responsible and I want to show him how much better he’s made things for you. If I pay for it, he’ll feel good about it since he won’t have cost you any money.”

  Carlina let out a groan and rested her head against the seat. She shifted her weight and winced. “That’s the way you want to play this?”

  “If it’s working, then yes.”

  “Asshole. Fine, we’ll do it your way, but don’t even think about adding anything to what’s already in that folder.”

  I shoved the drawings back into my briefcase, knowing she hadn’t looked at all of them, then crossed my fingers. “I’m glad we’ve come to a satisfactory agreement.”

  “Shut up before I strangle you with your seatbelt.”

  Smirking, I helped her move until she found a more comfortable position. I could afford to be generous now that I’d gotten my way with her. She’d eventually come around and realize my ideas were always good ones.

  Still, it was irksome that I’d had to mention Antonio before she agreed. What would it take to get Carlina to do as she was told without fighting me every step of the way? I had a feeling I hadn’t helped my case when I’d presented the renovation as a fait accompli, but it was too late to worry about it now.

  She refused to look at me, her pretty face set in firm, angry lines. In an effort to get her talking, I said, “Mrs. Dennison already has a room set up for you and has agreed to help you if you need it.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

  “You can also give her a shopping list, and if you direct her, she can probably follow some of your recipes, but she isn’t a very good cook.”

  “I want Antonio to do it. I also want him to start going back to my farm. He knows how to do everything already.”

  I frowned, wondering what she was thinking to allow my brother to cook when he’d already set a fire. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Why? Do you think he’ll burn down your house? I’ll be watching him, so you don’t have to worry. Besides, it was an accident.”

  “I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “You know what’s not a good idea?” she asked, her dusky cheeks turning pink as she leaned forward to pin me with a glare. “Letting him think you’re paying to fix his mistakes. You’re bullshitting me about funding the renovation to make him feel better and you’ve already gone against my wishes and started it. We’re going to do this my way so neither of us feel bad about you being an ass.”

  Jeremy snorted out a laugh and I made a note to myself to fire him. “God, you’re stubborn.”

  She arched a brow. “Pot, meet kettle. I’m not the one who unilaterally decided to renovate a near stranger’s house. Do me a favor and keep your wallet to yourself. Also, stop paying me to take care of Antonio. It’s the only way I’m going to resolve the choking debt you’ve dropped on me.”

  Now was definitely not the time to tell her I’d bought La Panache for her. She’d likely make good on her threat to strangle me with my seatbelt. Her attitude left me at a loss though. How was I supposed to get into her good graces if I couldn’t buy my way in?

  We turned down the long driveway leading to my house and I wondered what she’d think of the place. I intended it to be a flip house when I started my company, but Antonio liked the creek in back so much that we kept it. Surrounded by woods, it was small and plain when compared with my later work, yet it suited us.

  Carlina didn’t say a word as Jeremy helped her into the wheelchair, then pushed her to the steps leading to the front door. Shrugging, he lifted her, chair and all, and carried her up the stairs.

  Julie took over and pushed her inside. With everyone else, Carlina was generous and kind, smiling as she shook their hands. With me, she bit my head off every time I opened my mouth.

  Except for those kisses. Shit, I could still taste her on my lips and I’d have given almost anything for another chance to kiss her.

  “I like her,” Jeremy said, standing next to me.

  “So do I.”

  “Too bad she hates you.”

  I grunted in acknowledgement, watching Julie give her the grand tour of my house.

  “Bet you a twenty you’ll be married to her within a year. Don’t forget to invite Hunter and me to the wedding.”

  “You’re on.” I might have lost the bet about Antonio eating vegetables, but I was going to win this one.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carlina

  “I hope the room is okay,” Julie, Mr. Dennison’s wife, said. Though older than me by several years, her energetic movements and platinum blonde hair made her seem much younger. “I moved the furniture around to make it easier for you to get to the bathroom.”

  She wheeled me into a comfortably posh suite with a four-poster bed covered in rich blue damask. Maroon curtains were tied back from large windows, revealing a view of a fast running creek surrounded by thick woods. A large television hung on the wall with a discreet surround sound system, and a beautiful cherry desk sat under one window. To my surprise, my laptop case rested on the smooth surface.

  Giorgio must have gotten it before the contractors went in. I couldn’t decide if I was upset that he’d gone into my personal space, or thankful that he’d been thoughtful enough to retrieve it.

  “It’s beautiful. Thanks.”

  Giorgio’s house was nice and much less ostentatious than I’d expected. Instead of the overdone cookie cutter mansions and resorts his company was famous for, this house was cozy and decorated with warm colors and overstuffed furniture.

  “I’m not much of a cook, but I can order something in if you’re hungry,” Julie said. “Or you can rest before supper.”

  “No, thank you. I’d like to see Antonio before I do anything else.”

  Julie frowned and straightened a wrinkle in the duvet. “He hasn’t talked to anyone in days. I’m not sure he’ll unlock his door for you.”

  “Well, it doesn’t hurt to try. I’d like to see if I can convince him the fire wasn’t his fault.”

  “We’ve all tried, but I’ll show you where his room is.” Julie bit her lip. “I’m worried about him. He hasn’t eaten anything since the fire that I can tell.”

  “And Giorgio called me stubborn,” I muttered. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Julie wheeled me to a white painted door, closed tightly with a hand lettered sign that said, Keep Out. I knocked softly, then again when Antonio didn’t answer. Julie wrung her hands and glanced at the door, then at me.

  “I don’t think he’s going to answer,” she whispered.

  I knocked again, louder this time. “Antonio, come out please.”

  “Go away!”

  Letting out a sigh, I straightened myself in my chair. “Antonio Acardi, I am still your boss. Get out here right now.”

  The door crashed open, revealing Antonio and the godawful stink of body odor. Aside from not eating, he obviously hadn’t bathed since the fire and only wore a pair of dirty sweats, leaving his chest bare.

  His lower lip trembling, he dropped to his knees and laid his head in my lap. “I’m sorry, Carli. I didn’t mean to burn your house down! I’m so stupid, Aunt Proserpina was right when she called me a moron.”

  I swore right there that I’d bitch slap Antonio’s aunt into next week if I ever had the displeasure of meeting her. “Oh, honey,” I said, s
troking his greasy hair. “You are not stupid, and I never want to hear that word out of your mouth again. The fire was an accident. That’s all, and it could have happened to me or to anyone else.”

  “I bet you never started a fire,” he muttered. “I am stupid, see?”

  “Actually, you’d be wrong on that.” I smiled at the memory as I petted his hair. “I was ten and tried to fry chicken. My mother put it out, but it destroyed her brand-new stove.”

  “You were a kid. It doesn’t count.”

  “It counts,” I insisted. “And lots of other things happen to chefs when they cook. Look at my hands.”

  Like those belonging to many chefs, my hands were a road map of scars and old burns, and I held them out for him to see. “This long one here was from a dull carving knife I didn’t have time to sharpen. The silvery spot is a burn from when I got splattered with hot oil, and this one happened when I was trying to cut open a butternut squash.”

  His eyes widened and he held my hand closer to his face. “All of these are from cooking?”

  “Most of them, yes.” I paused a moment, letting the words sink in. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “No!” He dropped my hand and jerked away, falling to his bottom. “You’re smarter than Giorgio!”

  I heard a cough behind me and saw Jeremy trying unsuccessfully to hold back laughter while Giorgio glared at him.

  “Then how can you be stupid for accidentally starting a fire?”

  “What about your house?” he asked, looking up at me. “I ruined it, and all of Katie’s pictures.”

  “You didn’t hurt anything that can’t be replaced,” I said firmly. “I have all my pictures stored on my laptop so I can print them whenever I want and the house is being rebuilt right now.”

  “But who’s paying for it?” he asked, bringing up the one question I didn’t want to answer. “You shouldn’t have to do that.”

  “Well, here’s the thing.” I leaned closer to whisper, mostly to make sure I didn’t look at Giorgio because I was about to lie through my teeth. “I have insurance and your brother is using his designers to make it beautiful. You actually did a good thing because now I can afford a renovation.”