Scandalous Contract (The Cattaneo Crime Family #3)

CHAPTER ONE

S TEFANIE

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I T WAS HOTTER THAN Satan’s ass out here!

The sun was treating me like I owed it money, blazing against my skin and making me uncomfortable in my clothing. I sighed, adjusting the strap of my purse as I scrolled through my phone, trying and failing to make sense of the directions my daughter, India, had texted me earlier.

INDIA : Take the south entrance, follow the pathway near the main library, then cross past the student center... I think.

I think. That last part was why I was currently wandering aimlessly across a college campus, heels clicking against the pavement, sweat gathering at the nape of my neck, dress sweaty and sticking to my skin. I swear that child of mine was going to drive me insane.

Students bustled around me, dragging suitcases and laundry baskets, shoving duffle bags into waiting cars, hugging friends goodbye before spring break pulled them apart for a week. Some of them were even crying as if they wouldn’t see each other again soon.

I was surrounded by youthful energy: fast, loud, careless . And then there was me. Overdressed for the temperature and wearing shoes that were more for show than walking. I stuck out like a sore thumb.

My black blazer felt too stiff, my dress too confining, my heels a poor choice for the amount of walking I was doing. I should’ve worn sneakers. In my defense, I hadn’t planned to do this much walking.

I’d only planned to be out of the comfort of my car and its AC long enough to help my daughter load her bags in my trunk. However, there were so many parents on campus picking up their children that I thought it would be easier to park, then walk, and help India pull her suitcases rather than navigate down the crowded campus streets.

I was wrong. And so were the directions my daughter had given me when I texted her and told her I was parking and would be walking to her dorm to pick her up. But it wasn’t even the heat or the discomfort that bothered me the most.

It was the growing realization that I was, in fact, lost. To make things worse, I didn’t even remember where I’d parked. I was just as bad with directions as my India. Frustrated, I stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk.

I swiped at the moisture beading at my temple. Maybe I should just call India and have her come meet me. First, I needed to figure out where I was. I started looking around, searching for the names of any of the buildings I was surrounded by.

There’s one! Let’s see if my child knew how to get to this building. The Sandwich Lab. It must be some type of sandwich shop. I was just about to dial her number when a deep voice sounded behind me, sending chills down my spine. My entire body stiffened.

“Excuse me, miss. Are you lost? Do you need me?”

The voice was deep, rich, and edged with a tenor that made my pulse react before my brain did. I frowned, surprised by my reaction and thankful I wasn’t facing the guy. Then the words he’d just uttered sank in.

Did he really just ask me if I needed him?

That was a strange way to ask if I needed directions. I swear, kids these days said the strangest things. Or maybe it was an innuendo. This little brat! Sighing, I schooled my face into a scowl before turning to face him.

I was expecting some overeager student trying to flirt with an older woman for sport. What I found instead was something far worse. This was a man. Not a boy. And a fine-ass man at that. My gaze swept over him before I could register what I was doing.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, and he stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me with a smirk on his face. His white button-down shirt clung to his frame in a way that suggested he worked out.

I didn’t have to see his stomach to know he had a six-pack. He wore black slacks and expensive shoes. His attire signaled that he was either coming from work or going to work. Maybe he worked here, at the college.

If so, the college paid their employees well. His clothing wasn’t from any store rack. They fit his form too well for that to be true. His attire was custom fit for his frame, and he wore them well. My gaze backtracked until I was staring into his face once more.

His face! Now, that was a dangerous place to stare. This man was the kind of handsome that didn’t just turn heads, it broke necks, leaving a trail of bad decisions in its wake. His dark hair was cropped close to the sides of his head but full on top.

I’m pretty sure there was a name for the style, but I was going to call it playboy chic. His neatly trimmed goatee only made his chiseled jawline more defined, drawing attention to the slight smirk curving his lips.

Those lips. It should be a sin for any man to have lips as sexy as those. A heat wave crept over me that had nothing to do with the sun. His smirk widened. I blinked. Damn it! I was staring. No, I was gawking at this man.

He may not be a college kid, but he was still much too young for me to be standing on my daughter’s college campus, gawking at. My gaze jerked to my phone like I had something important to do on it. Wait . I did. I needed to call India.

“You must not have heard me,” Mr. Sexy Lips spoke again. “I asked if you needed me?”

There he was again, framing the question all wrong. Raising my head, I met his gaze, piercing him with a stern glare that let him know I wasn’t game for whatever he was trying to do.

“Are you trying to ask if I need directions, young man?” I asked, giving him my best, ‘Child, go somewhere and sit down,’ look.

One of his dark eyebrows rose at my question. “Young man? I’m not a student here.”

“I gathered that from the way you’re dressed. But you’re still a young man to me. I’m almost forty.”

I expected him to be shocked by my big reveal. I expected him to look flustered, then apologize and walk away. Instead, he stepped closer, and I found myself taking a step back, gaze narrowing.

“You don’t look a day over twenty-one,” he murmured. “But I’m glad you’re not twenty-one. That would make you much too young for me.”

I ignored how good his compliment made me feel and asked, “How old are you, young man?”

“My name is Julian.”

I waited for him to add his age.

When he didn’t, I asked, “And your age?”

“First, say my name. You called me young man. My name is Julian.”

My fierce glare and my big reveal hadn’t dissuaded him at all. I swallowed, flustered by the intense look in his eyes. My fingers tightened around my purse strap, and I hated that I felt the urge to take another step back.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Julian...”

“Yes,” he whispered before I could get the rest of my words out.

It wasn’t the way he whispered yes , all dark and husky, that made my panties wet. I swear it had nothing to do with him. It was the heat. It was hot. I was sweating. Vaginas sweated just like armpits sweated.

This was natural. Yup. Natural. And it had nothing to do with the tall, dark-eyed, and handsome man before me. Ugh! I needed to get away from this guy. But his smirk seemed to challenge me to hold my ground and finish my question.

Rolling my eyes, I sighed loudly and let my irritation show when I asked, “Julian, young man, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

Ten years younger than me. No, almost eleven. I let out a low chuckle. He may look like a big dog, but he was just a pup. Let me step away from this boy before people on this campus started gossiping about me being a cougar or something. Letting the conversation end there, I turned to walk away, but his words stopped me.

“It’s rude to end a conversation like that,” he muttered.

Me, rude? He was the one being rude. Had no one taught him to respect his elders? I really didn’t have time for this.

Staring over my shoulder, I told him, “I’m not trying to be rude. I’m just busy. Please excuse me, but I need to go find my daughter , who is a freshman here.”

If my age hadn’t scared him away, this new bit of information surely would.

“Do you need help finding her?” he asked.

What was wrong with him? I was almost forty with a teenage daughter. What was this guy up to?

I frowned. “Look, I’ve been trying to be nice, but...”

“Who said I wanted you to be nice?” Julian cut in, head tilting slightly.

My breath hitched.

He grinned like he’d heard it. “Nice is boring. Predictable. I’d rather you be yourself.”

I opened my mouth and closed it. He’d really shocked me silent. A slow anger crept over me. Anger at myself for standing here talking to him for this long, entertaining his nonsense. He must’ve seen the shift in my gaze because he raised his hands and took a step back.

“Don’t curse me out,” he told me. “I’m just trying to help. You look lost. I wanted to help. That’s all.”

"I’m not lost," I muttered, shifting my purse higher on my shoulder.

He chuckled, a low sound that made me want to move closer to him. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with me?

"Sure, you’re not lost. That’s why you’ve been walking in circles for the last five minutes."

My gaze narrowed. "Have you been watching me?"

He shrugged, stepping closer, and I caught the scent of his cologne. He smelled good. I held my breath.

"Yes, I was watching," he admitted shamelessly. "I tried to look away. I really did. But, I couldn’t.”

Wait. What? I exhaled slowly.

“Since I couldn’t look away,” he continued. “I decided to quit staring and come be a gentleman before you collapsed from frustration or had a heat stroke."

I scoffed, heat prickling at my neck, more from his words than the sun. "I’m perfectly capable of finding my way. I just got a little... turned around."

"Uh-huh," he muttered, clearly not convinced.

"I’m serious.”

“It’s okay to ask for help when you need it. Just tell me you need me, and I’ll take you where you need to go.”

He said that with a straight face. So why the hell was I blushing with my mouth hanging open? His gaze dropped to my lips. I quickly closed my mouth. But it was too late, I was already imagining things I shouldn’t be imagining. Things I was pretty sure I was going to hell for.

I wanted to storm off and leave him standing there, staring in my wake. But I knew he would stand there, in my wake, watching me while I pretended I knew where I was going. He was right. There was nothing wrong with asking for help.

That’s why I turned to a guy walking by and said, “Excuse me, can you tell me where...”

Before I could finish the sentence, Julian was in front of me. I hadn’t even heard him move.

“Keep walking,” he called over his shoulder to the guy who was staring from me to Julian. “I’ll help her find her way.”

“Are you sure?” the guy started.

Julian turned to face the guy. With his back to me, I couldn’t see his expression, but it sent the stranger damn near sprinting away.

“O-oh. Okay,” the stranger stammered before rushing off.

Julian faced me with a smile, a smile that made him appear even more handsome, which should be impossible.

“Now, that was rude,” I told him.

“No. That was necessary. Tell me where you need to go, Stefanie.”

I cocked my head to the side. “How do you know my name?”

“You just told me your name.”

“No, I didn’t.”

His gaze narrowed, eyes squinted and even that looked sexy on him.

“Has the heat really gotten to you so badly that you can’t remember parts of our conversation?”

Yes, the heat was getting to me. But I still hadn’t told him my name. I was sure of it.

“Did you know who I was when you approached me?” I asked, growing suspicious.

“How would I? Are you a celebrity or something?”

I’m a meteorologist for my local news channel. That kind of made me a local celebrity. But he wouldn’t know that unless he was from my town. And I was almost two hours away from home. Still, I was about ninety-six percent sure I hadn’t told him my name.

“Stefanie,” he started, voice low and deep, almost a growl, like he was testing the feel of my name on his tongue.

My stomach clenched. I’m pretty sure another part of me did, also. But I was trying my best to ignore that part of me.

“Call me Ms. Adams,” I insisted, setting boundaries that were sorely needed with this guy.

His smile only widened. “ Ms . Adams? Not Mrs . Which means you’re not married. I’ll be happy to call you Ms . Adams.”

That sounded even worse on his tongue. His tongue? Ugh! Why was I thinking about his tongue? He grinned, slow and knowing, and it annoyed me immediately.

“Do you remember telling me that you’re here to pick up your daughter?” he asked.

“Of course I do.”

“Just checking, Ms. Adams. What dorm does she stay in? I’ll take you to her," he offered.

“No, thank you.”

He took a deep breath and released it slowly like I was frustrating him or something. I should be the one doing that, not him.

“If you don’t want my help, fine.” He took a step back. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Adams. I’ll be here watching you walk around, lost, while you look for your daughter. If you need me, just call my name. I’m Julian Cattaneo.”

Cattaneo? My daughter’s roommate was Aubrey Cattaneo, and she had an older brother named Julian. I’d heard the girls talk about how strict he was with his sister. Far stricter than her parents. Poor Aubrey was always complaining about him.

“Are you... Aubrey’s brother?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yes. That brat is my sister.”

Oh, no. Earth, swallow me whole right now. Had I really been getting flustered over the brother of my daughter’s roommate?

“How do you know Aubrey?” he asked.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “She’s my daughter’s roommate.”

“You’re India’s mom,” he said. “Wow! Small world, huh?”

“Yeah. The smallest,” I muttered, wishing I’d run into anyone except him.

“Aubrey told me that India’s mom was pretty. But I hadn’t expected you to be this stunning.”

Uh-uh. No more compliments or subtle flirting. I couldn’t lust after the guy who my daughter said half the girls in her dorm had a crush on. Though India swore he wasn’t her type, she’d said that most of her friends were in love with him.

She’d also mentioned that Aubrey got tired of her friends and people on campus asking her if her brother was single. Julian Cattaneo turned heads wherever he went. I was not about to be one of his admirers. It was time to nip this in the bud.

“As you know, the girls had to switch to the new dorms because the old dorms flooded,” I told him. “This is my first time coming to the new dorms. There were so many cars on campus that I thought it would be easier to walk. I was wrong. I, sort of...”

“Got lost.”

“Got turned around,” I corrected, hating the smile he gave me.

“I’m heading in the same direction. If you want, I’ll take you there. But only if you need me.”

To. If you need me to. That’s what he should’ve said. But he was doing this on purpose. There was a level of petty in me that wanted to teach this cocky young man a lesson. I swallowed that urge down.

“Yes, I need you to show me to my daughter’s new dorm. That’s all I need from you, Julian Cattaneo.”

He stood there staring at me for so long that I thought he’d changed his mind. Finally, he spoke up.

“That may be all you need from me today, Ms. Adams. But there’s always tomorrow. Follow me.” He turned and walked away, leaving me staring after him.

I won’t need you tomorrow either. I thought it but didn’t say it. I wasn’t about to argue with a man who was born a whole decade after me. Even so, the petty side of me wanted to walk in the opposite direction.

I wasn’t a fan of men telling me what to do. Especially not when I was old enough to be their mother. Or, rather, their big sister. Their aunt or something. I watched him walk away, noting the expanse of his broad shoulders.

I hated to admit it, but he had a nice butt. I’d bet his entire body was toned. Yeah, he was definitely crush material for young girls, just not for a grown woman like me. Julian stopped and looked over his shoulder at me.

Busted! I’d been caught staring at the man’s ass. Earth, swallow me whole again! His smirk widened. He didn’t even try to be polite and pretend like he hadn’t just caught me staring at his ass.

“If you keep staring at me like that, Ms. Adams, I’m going to start thinking you need something different from me.”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“You were. But I don’t mind. That makes us even now.”

“Even?”

“Yeah, even. I watched your sexy ass while you walked around lost on campus. And now, you’ve stared at mine. We’re even.”

Oh no, he didn’t just say that to me!

“Come on, Ms. Adams. Follow me, and I’ll take you exactly where you need to be.”

My mouth went dry as he winked at me and continued forward, leaving me behind with my mouth hanging open. I shook my head, mind unable to form a coherent retort at the moment. Julian Cattaneo was trouble with a capital T.

It would be best for everyone if I stayed as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, I needed his help. So, against my better judgment, I followed. I’d let him help me this time. After today, I’d never have to see his smug, handsome face again.

Or that nice tight ass of his.